The Lemming: Tell me a little about yourself. What started your interested in art? Have you taken art classes?
Narcissus-X: Narcissus-X is artist! Narcissus-X is art! Art not that art be art, lest aardvarks swim delirious cadences with Calliope musing over the sound of silent shibboleths.
How could Narcissus-X teach, or be taught? For in teaching is the stultifying fog of pettifoggery and impecunious pelicans: publicans of plebeian platitudes. Narcissus-X perceives, and perceiving ponders crystal penguins: silently sliding against an obsidian sky.
The Lemming: Ah, thank you. What medium do you prefer, and why?
Narcissus-X: Far from medium is Narcissus-X! Ultima Thule beckons, echoing from the depths of the digital abyss. Slickly slides crimson and azure, chrome of saffron and amber hues, lest jonquils jeer in haste. Yet monochromatic musings mutter ashen laments over once-unblemished expanses of alabaster or ivory leaves.
The Lemming: May be view your portfolio online?
Narcissus-X: Portobello Road runs not through Nottingham Wood. Little cares Narcissus-X for pandering to pretensions of philistine posers.
The Lemming: Do you have a favorite artist? If so, what appeals to you in that person's work?
Narcissus-X: Visions of leonine aspect, the artificer of Hohlenstein Stadel stands before Narcissus-X, silent yet crying across ages for expression of facing introversions of unrecognized anima.
The Lemming: Can you remember one of the first works of art you created? why is it memorable?
Narcissus-X: Full fathom five found Narcissus-X a filigree of floss, fiber frame of fantasies. Yet round and round it wove its walls and towers, and still Narcissus-X shuns the person from Porlock.
The Lemming: Where do you find inspiration for your work?
Narcissus-X: As far as the obsidian sky, yet near as night, through the onyx gates of twilight and gloaming; deep within halls of reflected shade: there Narcissus-X drifts on ebony sampans, beholding flights of crystal penguins.
The Lemming: What do you feel is the most difficult part of creating a masterpiece?
Narcissus-X: Having traversed Stygian scenes, silent symbols clashing cacophonous cadances amid grim menhirs of lithic lyricism: then must Narcissus-X ponder. And pondering, wrests chimeric visions from their haunts: yet this does not try the art of Narcissus-X. It is later, as form emerges into actuality, that Narcissus-X ponders anew: is this the form? Or does Narcissus-X behold a mere phantasm?
The Lemming: Finally, please share a few images and tell the Lemming about each: briefly.
Limpid occlusion, refracted reality or patchwork perception? Narcissus-X presents for pondering.
Orthogonal orthodoxy or shattered dream? Narcissus-X, having wrung, moves on.
Spindrift swirl blown in every-circling winds yet never reaching an end. Narcissus-X broods.
Boil, boil, toil and travail, roiling thoughts emerge from the mind of Narcissus-X.
Paltry placards, silent shouts, morning beckons, yet Narcissus-X stands: whither the penguins, the silent crystal penguins of fiery eye?
The Lemming: Thank you! That's all we have time for.
- "Nullurpa: The Unsoda"
(March 7, 2014)
- "Night of the Creeping Tree"
(February 21, 2014)
- "A 'Bookish' Librarian, Art, Words, and a Rambling Lemming"
(November 8, 2013)
- "Narcissus-X: Earnest, Angsty Artist; and now an Online Comic"
(February 11, 2011)
- "Jabberwocks: A Guest Post by Narcissus-X"
(June 11, 2010)