Making A Ruckus

I recently went to sleep thinking, comparing and dreaming. I realized how similar my love for brewing mirrored my love of creating things with a can of paint. I find great similarities in the two and both have had an influence beyond their years. Both crafts breathe on respect and acceptance, have limitless possibility, and remain carefully hinged on detailed craftsmanship. I can't help but enjoy the parallels and think even further down the path.

My thoughts began to ripple - "Should I build beer or paint walls!? Should I drink, consume, and relish or simply paint!?". They are each freedom, self expression, and in so many ways rebellion. Both demand respect when done well, but are a filthy disappointment when poorly executed or carelessly delivered. Both can be rigid and beautiful, hurtful and calming all at once. There are always connotations, assumptions, and
displeasures stomping around, causing a ruckus, mulling about.

"Oh little controversies and misunderstandings, how you amuse me, how you make me smile and feel in control. Your complexities make you so hard to understand in such a beautiful way. Your beauty will never be for the common lamb."

I am craft and art, paint, beer and splattered ideas. I represent the genius with a dull appearance and the moles of the drinking class; the small, the hurting, the heroes, and the drunks alike. I lead the call for appreciation, open thoughts, and open palates. My screams and shoves serve as a sharp warning to barbarian minds that my class is burning, developing and producing! We will rise and we will breathe and we will create magnificent creatures of the arts. Art forms of supreme flavor, substance, and relevance. This is a promise. This is a commitment. This is my mind as an artist, as a convicted craftsmen, as an independent home brewing tagger that cant wake up!

-Gaucho