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.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Vanity, thy name be ....

Franken - Franconia 48,5 x 38,5 cm


It’s not that I have anything against work, per se,
but what I need is a patron not some Vice-President
   for fuck all 
pulling my chain whenever he feels like it. There’s a character somewhere    
   in Henry James, I think, who claims that he  
does not entertain ideas, ideas entertain him. Now that’s a position I can
still get into. But the issue before us, as the chairman of some
   highly self-important panel might pronounce,
is financial and not ontological or even epistemological
and phenomenology is just a picture in your own mind 
   of what constitutes the “really” real
which apparently is unknowable and I can do better than that:
   what would it take to receive living
expenses plus a simple comfy old house, with a courtyard
and beautiful tiles and Moroccan pillows all over the place
and a flat, spacious roof on which to sleep nights during the hot months
   and this located in a palm
   olive grove within sauntering
distance of the medina or acropolis? I’m not so much
philosophical as complicatedly blown away by the physical
   world and most of its moving parts. Still, I think some foundation
could plausibly make me Dean of Poetry in Absentia
   at the Library of Alexandria, or appoint me
Secretary General of the Union of Disaffected Aesthetes,
College of Arts & Letters,
                                           University of California, Berkeley
whose principle duty would be to write a yearly essay on the state of his Sensibility.
   Let me swim around in a think tank
all barnacled with concepts, clichés, marching orders, systems
   of tightly organized, internally concocted   
delirium. If you required more I could easily offer you
a re-write of the Classical Tradition and even a few of its
more amusing offshoots, my version, for instance, of the long lost
dialogues of Socrates after the orgy, or even confessions  
   of the Buddha before he went straight.
Open your blinds, that’s me in the street,
   waving and waiting for the sun
to warm my blood, inspired as ever,
                                                      as swift as Sugar Ray in his prime.

Carly Simon - You're so vain


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