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 10, 2014

Baby Sitters in September

September 50 x 40 cm mixed media painting by Karin Goeppert





THE BABY SITTER

Getting someone last second to give a twelve minute speech on
“construction engineering issues with special regard
to Stalinist era high-rise housing in East Berlin”—impossible.
Maybe you remember (or probably don’t)
Gerald R. Ford? When Nixon was going down
in flames his idea of preemptive revenge
on an ungrateful nation was to replace his corrupt
Vice-President (the wonderful Spiro T. Agnew)
with mediocre “Gerry” Ford (i.e., Nixon’s successor), a man
who became famous for losing his footing—
tripping over the trains of fine ladies’ gowns
at state receptions. Stepping out of Air Force One
while waving at the adoring masses and not stumbling
at the same time was a considerable feat for Gerry. Apparent
physical ineptitude became his signature, his prop, his claim
to a personal style, like Roosevelt’s smile, Clinton’s cigar.
Still, if you keep
recent presidential history in mind, he didn’t do a bad job—
sub-zero expectations and no daddy hang-ups.

So, the next time you’re looking for a baby sitter
(as hard to find as construction engineers)
you might do worse than a tattooed girl
with tongue stud, red eyes, chronic sniffles. Behind
that blank gaze—which isn’t even a gaze, which isn’t even  
an empty stare on a subway platform at midnight—
so alienating that she looks indeed like she’s from
another planet—and beneath a voice flattened by tons
of post-modern urban nihilism—
affection just might be waiting its last chance,
responsibility and good citizenship their renaissance.
And standing next to her, a lump
of pierced boy-meat, a moving pattern
of crystal meth ticks, is breathing through his mouth.
Drastically pint-sized, wiry as a garrote,
is he not an Eagle Scout incognito?




Beethoven's Third Symphony, 4th movement
Danmarks Radio SymfoniOrkestret - Fabio Luisi

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