fish w.w. burton

so, i’m sure that many of you are wondering (and it is very possible that very few are wondering, but when wonder comes my way, i want to respond, and i suppose i’m mixing “wonders” here, but isn’t that a lovely idea: mixing wonders) why—or maybe even who is—this fish burton thing.

to tell the short of it, i’ve been going through a lot of life changes recently, things have been falling apart, my heart has been inverted, there’s a future staring at me (named tomorrow) asking me what i will do with myself.

i suppose this is in part an attempt (because all we can really do is make attempts at things (but what happens when i actually do finish the rather large sandwich i was staring at (i suppose it was an attempt, and i will always leave myself open to the surprise of accomplishment, but even then, when is a sandwich accomplished? upon the eating or upon the passing).

so this is a name change, sure, but an attempt also, perhaps a rebranding at this moment of pause and juncture.

fish is my great grandfather’s name.

w.w. is some that i will leave in ambiguity for perpetuity.

burton is the last name that i was born with.

all of it sort of coalesces into a way to move back and forward and out and in. i mean forward by what i was saying about attempts. i mean back by some sort of return to origin, and i mean out by the ambiguity and in by the feeling of being looked at by tomorrow.

i can’t say that this is a definitive statement on anything, but only that i have said it, that i am drawn to speak and when i am drawn to speak, well, can you imagine that: a drawing of someone speaking: a man who is in the midst of saying something: and yet he says nothing: and yet the drawing is held there in that moment: not a word coming from his lips: but his lips are appearing to form words: but maybe instead of words: well: instead of words you seem to think it is a kiss: or a sigh: or something that you’ve never heard: but you can see it now. what i see now, what i see right now is perhaps a word held in the air, a word without explanation.