In this blog we will share with you our vision of beauty, balance, harmony.

As Mark Leach writes in his book Raw Colour with Pastels: “Sound is all around us, and it is musicians who refine that sound into something of beauty. As a painter, I have always felt that my purpose is to craft colour in a similar way, to see through the confusion and seek harmony and beauty.”

And we add: Words, fragments of sentences, spoken noise is all around us, and Ken arranges words in such a way as to capture beauty in the accidental, the ambient soundtrack of life.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

A little country comfort for y'all

Abstract No. 3 - Pastel Painting


We believe in law n‘ order
but we do like our vice. Not much
else to do on a Saturday night. The
MET ain’t coming to town any time soon
and I doubt American Ballet Theatre’d
get out of here unplucked(all
those nice little birdies in Swan Lake)un-
fucked(ditto)or undead.

What will we take? You name it.
Cut it with a razor and we’ll suck
it right in. Roll it and we’ll bogart it.
Sex? It ain’t subtle with us but it feels good.
Senseless violence? We can do that.
Shoot, we do that all the time, sometimes even for money.

Here’s number one on my hit list of great
out of town ass kickers. Three days
in Reno, Nevada—the “Biggest Little Town In The
World”—which is basically an over-sized slot-
machine with dollar-ninety-nine cent breakfasts—
all expenses paid. Sounds like a piece of heaven to me.
What was that you said about transcendence?

Well…it tastes like grits soaked in egg yolk.
Looks like a tired stripper in Fayetteville, N.C.
at two in the morning. Feels like a
pump-action shotgun ever so damp with linseed oil.
Sounds like Johnny Cash live at Folsom.
Smells like refried beans from a funky little stand
in Tuscon, Arizona. With cheese, lots of cheese.

That desert wind’s blowing hot today, and if you look real hard,
over yonder by the used car lot, you can just make out His
face in the swirling dust, frowning about
some minor offence, no doubt, but looking the other way.
He’s a good ol’ boy and this is His home town at the End of Time.

It's country time.

An exerpt from the Cohen Brothers' film "O Brother where art thou" 

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