The Book of Me; a Thesis and Introduction
I wrote a post. Then I deleted the post. It wasn't a bad post; in fact, I think it had some rather charming turns of phrase. In it, I revealed a deconstruction of my personal mantra, which I might as well have tattooed on my chest, but when taken out of context could perhaps cause offense. In just jumping into the meat of my personal ethos, I realized that I was doing myself, and the intentions of this site, a disservice.
This place is a Me place. It is a corner that I can point to and say - explore, and understand the unique biologic entity known as C P Kelly, and all his myriad psychosis.
But the aforementioned post didn't do that - that post jumped into the middle of the book.
And let me tell you: the middle of this book gets weird.
For now, I realized (via some quality advice from a man [or woman] we'll only call J. Lanzing) that before the weirdness happens - before we get into my enemies of sea and sky, the fire that burns inside me, the trauma and the pride and the overwhelming collection of swords - what this site needs is a heavy dose of CONTEXT. So lets start again, with a new thesis.
This is a story of evolution.
Visit ART/Passion, and you'll find drawings stretching back over a decade. It's not meant to impress you (though I certainly hope you're not disgusted), it's meant to catalogue the development, growth and change of a person through their artistic expression; as of now, none of that work is particularly a la mode, but I'll be uploading some new pieces soon. At ART/NewsPrint, you'll find everything I did for the Trojan Horse, USC's alternative paper - pressed by a million deadlines at school, this art is the equivalent of a giant middle finger, perhaps as "punk rock" as my work ever got. But it's ART/Myopia that functioned as a slap to the face. Myopia was a comic I did for almost four years - to this day, I don't know if anyone beyond my friends ever read it, despite the fact that it was in a physical paper, left on the stoop of every building on campus. It was an artistic endeavor that slowly became a reflection of the man creating it, and as such, became incredibly auto-biographical. As I hunted down the old files to post, some still make me laugh, while others are completely opaque.
But some made me wince. Some... embarrassed me. Not because of the art (which, lets be fair, is incredibly inconsistent), but because of the content. Within these comics, I revealed a side of myself that I had almost forgotten had ever existed. The truth was, for many years, my insides were writhing with hate. Hate at the Administration, at the Government, at Bigotry; this is a productive kind of hate, the kind that can birth creativity and humor. But I also found pieces that I had published, cutting down my friends, cutting down strangers, cutting down men and women both. I don't think I hated myself, though arm-chair psychology would beg to differ, but I certainly wasn't happy with who I was, and because of that - with my righteous indignation, from atop my high horse - I lashed out.
This isn't a story about metamorphosis. I will never be free of mistakes I made, or the things I've said or done that might have caused genuine hurt. What I will do - and promise to always do - is absorb those mistakes, learn from them, and strive to never do them again. Those offensive comics haven't been included on this site: though they are indicative of the man I was, they are not representative of the man I would like to be.
I consider this post one of purely foundational importance. I hope to write many things here, treatises and essays and short stories, as well as news and exciting personal developments. But in case I ever write something that causes you, my reader - whom I love if only for the fact that you've extended me the courtesy of reading - anguish, I needed to at least let you know that I am just Collin Kelly, and sometimes, like all other humans, I can be an accidental ass.
It feels odd to be this vulnerable in a public space, especially when I seem to be apologizing for something that hasn't even happened yet.
Read this book long enough, and I'm sorry to say the paper may cut you.
But please, keep reading; the story is just getting good.