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, January 25, 2015

Dazed and Confused for so long it's not true....

Daphne auf Yupo - Daphne on Yupo 32 x 22 cm by Karin Goeppert


You didn’t actually jump
out of an airplane, you merely shuffled
till you ran out of floor, then you were
out there banging along the “skin”
of the aircraft, paralyzed
by a panic of such sublimity you’re unable
to remember what it felt like, silk opening
more or less horizontally,
saved again.
You hit the sand, brushed off,
took a leak, moved on to the tree line, shot an
azimuth—a compass reading, not a local animal—
even so you often got lost
in some awful swamp at Fort Polk, Louisiana,
in the poison ivy of Fort Benning, Georgia,
in the Columbian girls of the Canal Zone
at ten-bucks a pop the best bargain in town
got lost in them too, lost among civilians
at the National Gallery in D.C. who mocked you when
much too wasted on Mexican weed and Southern Comfort 
and something else which, symptomatically enough, you don’t  
remember, you looked at the pictures too up close and
slipped through the cracks of badly restored Old Masters
or the girl in Carmel who once said, unhappily, disgustedly
even, “Are you lost? I didn’t know people like you came here.”

Dazed and Confused - Led Zeppelin 

Monday, January 12, 2015

Jeep's Blues

Die letzte Welle - The last Wave 38,5 x 48,5 cm by Karin Goeppert


The man who was talking to her said
he once sat naked in candlelight
for hours on a cold hardwood floor   
till someone came along and remarked,
“Maybe you should get out more often.”
He had spent two years in Burma, meditating
every day all day, before returning home to Illinois,
nerves uprooted, digestive tract in an uproar.
“We in the West tend to be literal minded,” he said.
“And greedy. We always want too much of a good thing.”
At a Zen Do in Kyoto the native monks
sneak out for the Japanese equivalent of fried steak
as the Dutch novice slurps down some rice and vegetable
concoction.  Asked to come along, he’s indignant.
J.S. Bach, on night duty at the church boarding school,
composes a cantata silently to himself while listening
to children dream. My half-brother Gary, a little 
league pitcher of some promise, ruins his right arm.
After surgery his parents have him out in the yard
throwing with his left arm. “Why have you come to us?” the
Zen master asks the Dutch novice. “I am searching for
the meaning of life.”—“The meaning of life?” asks the
master. “Ah, that’s easy.” A strict little frown. “Life is a joke. But it
takes much time and hard work and meditation to find this out.”
Far as I know he’s still out there searching for the punch line.  

Jeeps Blues by Duke Ellington

Saturday, January 3, 2015

Orient Espresso

Nachtblume - Nightflower 60 x 50 cm - acryl/spraypaint/ink


Confucius say that Charley Chan wore make-up and fake eye lids.
There are said to be ten thousand things that offend
so why not start with Asia and work our way westward?
The accent didn’t work either, more Assyrian
than Manchurian, and while watching I had the urge
to touch your breasts. They looked so soft. And then
we ate an envelope of some deceptively tasty chemical product.

The rest, as they say, is a blank. What you don’t know about me
(and if you did would increase your affection eight-fold at least)
is that I worship willow trees and would like to spend my afternoons
beneath one of them, composing poetry, smoking weed,
and chatting up the pretty things giggling
vacantly by the River of White Cranes.

I would turn into a Chinese poem
by a defrocked monk (one of those fabled
transformations making it possible for us to grasp  
how backwards and forwards are essentially the same) and we
would dance in the sunlight (music from the 60’s and 70’s)
and drink rice wine and eat sweet and sour
while arguing bitterly in the cold shadows of Taishan.

Erik Satie - Gnossienne No. 1
played by Alessio Nanni