(21) Tyler Barton: to cancel
It was a pink. Damian knew that it was truly a pink. A pink so pale it was an ocean of white with a single Swedish Fish swimming somewhere in the center. That’s how faint. That’s how light. A pink nonetheless. It was a shade of pink that would make Damian a renowned artist. So renown, in fact, that he could, by age thirty, determine to the hour how long ago a croissant had been baked.
At forty, his new photography phase was not welcomed by fans. They wanted more of the color. That color. That color Damian had never properly named. That color everyone just new as and called That color. That color they dyed the tote bags. That color they painted the space station. The first time Damian had ever seen That color, he was twenty-two, and That color was the background of a magazine cover wrinkling in the rain on the road. On the cover, a trio of Korean teens lounged beside the headline: Boy Band Maturity, but behind them was nothing. They simply floated in That color. Damian told this story on a podcast when he turned fifty, and it was decided that what this was was cultural appropriation, and Damian never sold another piece of art again. Except to his mother. His happiness increased exponentially every year until his death.
Tyler Barton is a literary advocate and a co-founder of Fear No Lit. His debut collection, ETERNAL NIGHT AT THE NATURE MUSEUM, is forthcoming from Sarabande Books. In non-pandemic times, he leads free writing workshops for residents of assisted living facilities. Find his work in Kenyon Review, The Iowa Review, Subtropics, and soon in Copper Nickel. Find him @goftyler or at tsbarton.com or in Lancaster, PA.