Perhaps the greatest obscure artist of them all was the Incredible Shrinking Man.
He just kept getting smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller until he disappeared.
He didn't disappear of course, he merely disappeared from sight.
Then he disappeared from microscopic sight.
Then electron microscopic sight.
With every diminishment in size, his power only increased except that no one knew it, as size is always pretends to be the standard for influence.
He didn't even know it himself what with all the freaks, spiders and gargantuan wives always pushing him downstairs or into the sideshow or onto a web with only a needle for defense.
Until he came to increasingly realize that there was in fact nothing to hold, no perceptions to defend, no crutch to milk or boss on whom to depend.
Only the infinite which with each dimunition became even more infinite as if the adjective infinite has a comparative degree and what are degrees anyways but measures of persistence and/or heat and/or persistent heat and when diminishment finally reaches less than zero the heat of the fireball is always balanced by the chill of the Ice Age as he sleeps with his figurative head in a tiny stove and figurative legs in the refrigerator until he turns or the earth spins and yet there are no keyboards available to measure the intricacies of the inconsistent temperatures and send those messages back to readers way too large to see the small print or the spaces between the lines where everybody thought the devil lived but as the shrinking man found out this was the place as near as he was gonna get to God and as he kept shrinking he kept getting closer to God or his own oversized imagination whichever came first.
When he was finally sure that noone was paying the slightest attention, that's when he knew that his time had arrived beyond words, beneath contempt, beyond time, beneath criticism, beyond paradox, beneath superfluosity beyond everything other than perpetual creativity and the desire to live forever, contentedly within the magnificent mist of chaotic, uneditable imperfection.
© 2011 Thornton Krell - 1/17/11