Well, this looks promising.

Exhibit A
Exhibit A

The

Method

To My

Madness

A Collection of the Incoherent Ramblings

of

G. Derek Adams

I think this was from high school, sometime. It’s apparently a poetry portfolio, and since it’s on notebook paper, I’m guessing I did it at the last minute and banked on my native charm with our Gifted Teacher, Ms. Stephens to carry me through. And from the ‘A’ scribbled on top, I guess my plan worked. Here follows the transcript of three awful poems.

What Is A Poem?

A poem is the color of night wind blowing.

A poem is the sound of green things growing.

A poem is the taste of the headman’s blade.

A poem is the smell of bluish-green jade.

A poem is darkness.

A poem is light.

A poem’s a bandage.

A poem’s a knife.

A poem’s all of these; and more

A poem is both key and door.

OH MY GOD THAT IS TERRIBLE. ‘bluish-green jade’ really? REALLY. Oh man, I really thought I was super clever with this one — showing the scent of a sight, the sight of a smell, IT’S LIKE I’M WALT WHITMAN OVER HERE. And then the juxtaposition of ‘knife’ and ‘bandage’. Wow, it really hits you. Hits you hard, with all that TRUTH I’m dropping.

To Be Sung Tunelessly

Trees grow (in the ground)

Waters flow (up and down)

Winds blow (through the trees)

Farmers hoe (dirty knees)

(Now thank me for giving you the Secret of Life)

Holy shit. Okay, I’ve got to believe I wasn’t serious about these. I hope, I pray? Okay, last one.

Error

I  hereby state that Galileo and Copernicus were all wrong.

The world revolves around me;

Whirling and twirling in front of my eyes.

How dare they!?!

That I could possibly not be the sum total of creation!

I am not a speck of dust, oh no

It is the stars that are tiny;

No bigger than a pin head

and less important

-Anyman

Ha, this one wasn’t too bad. It probably also marks the last time I ever used a semi-colon.

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Time Travel Hat

A few weeks ago, I cleaned out my old room in the house I grew up in. My mother was something of a pack rat, a custodian of a thousand pieces of paper chronicling my childhood. I pawed through box after box of old report cards, half-completed math worksheets, programs from graduations and honor’s ceremonies from Grammar School through High School.

Most of it went in the trash. A lot of it was too sterile, boring. A page of me practicing cursive from second grade has no connection to me now. A blurry picture of a tree I took doesn’t mean much when I don’t remember taking the picture, the tree, or even why I was taking the picture.

But then there was some stuff. Some cool stuff. Some embarrassing stuff. Some interesting stuff. Stuff that I did feel a connection to, that I could still feel the timeline stretching from me now, just shy of 34, to the weird kid in middle school and high school that made these things. Especially because, one of the first things I found was my Time Travel  Hat.

Ingredients: The inside of some sort of sports helmet, a claw attachment from an old Transformer, and a pronged light purloined from an old robot set.
Ingredients: The inside of some sort of sports helmet, a claw attachment from an old Transformer, and a pronged light purloined from an old robot set.

It never fit me, when I first made it. I had a huge head as a kid, but it’s only now that it fits like a glove. I love the tiny coincidences and time overlaps of life — it’s all up to interpretation of course, we’re all creating out own mythology. And maybe that’s what this is all about. I’ve always believed that the art reveals the artist, and in many ways my writing is a tool to interrogate my subconscious. A wily foe, if ever there was. There’s things I write, symbols and characters and repeated themes, that I only have the vaguest notion of what it means.

So, now I have a time capsule…and a Time Travel Hat. I have old pictures and stories and poems and toys, scribbled doodles on the backs of folders. Posters and 2013-10-16 12.28.02stories and all sort of strange errata, the output of the Derek Prototype. Time to dig back through the evidence, like a good detective. It’s a cold case, but the Truth is Out There. I’ve only skimmed through this stuff, grabbing the things that I still felt a little heat on. The first whispers of Aufero, the Gray Witch dangling her long fingers into my young mind, maybe even the early shadows of the long Dark? And some really dorky pictures, of course.

Over the next few days or weeks, I’ll be throwing the best stuff up on here for due investigation. Random pictures and errata I’ll probably just put up on my Tumblr, if you’d care to follow along.

I’ll be creating a new category, Time Travel Hat, and tagging all posts like this with the same.  Come along, Gentle Reader, let the investigation begin — the Hat begins to blink and whir…