Dear Goodman and Goodwoman,
I am prepared to address the issue of adult coloring books. I have struggled with their meaning, their message in the visually clotted and choked world of the now, but I have found something to say about them that is honest and long-considered: If it keeps 'adults' off the streets, then I am all for it. A beautiful world could be built around adults quietly tending their daily coloring duties. There would be no strife, surely, if all would focus on that tiny sliver of blue to be filled in at the antler's tip. Yes, an adult coloring book in every adult pair of hands; this is our utopia. Amen to that.
On the other hand, which may or may not be holding a felt tip pen, these kinds of books are perhaps too coddling? Are they actually the self-driving car in disguise? What soma is this mania, anyway? I know, I know, one 'can't draw, not even a stick figure,' but, is one likely to get better at drawing filling in these little bubbles? Didn't people used to say that free spirits would 'color outside of the lines?' Maybe I imagined it. Maybe just filling in the blanks is what we are here for: Age. Sex. Affiliation. Nationality. Descent. Race. Income.
Oh dear! I always stray beyond 'taciturnity' and end up right in 'misanthropy.'
