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, May 24, 2015

Medley




 
Medley 30 x 24 cm acryl on canvas by Karin Goeppert




THE SWEET AND THE SOUR

Keep going, she said, never stop.
The first place was a window seat
near a picture of Mary and her Little Lamb,
the window right above an approximately vertical   
driveway and she, unofficial goddess of mirth,
threatening to dangle us from the window ledge. Proving?
Even mothers can have a fairly fucked-up sense of humor.

The second place had lemons and limes
pieces of which floated in the potent beverages
   of village elders.
The third place was a desert landscape.
A cactus garden in the side yard. It scared me. It
was too sharp. There was grapefruit with sugar sprinkled on top
paving a soft pink highway to the sweet and sour, the wisdom
of precisely mixed opposites, and that you could eat them with breakfast.

Then:
                                                                              a seminal scene
from Fellini Satyricon: a naked African girl
in bed with two smitten bi-sexual boys,
chattering in a pretty language no man can understand
but wants to listen to for the rest of his life, her breasts
like two small perfect fruits you might find
ripening in some amply watered oasis in Ethiopia or Somalia,
her hands like elegant birds hovering in space—
though where the sour amid all of this sweetness might be
found is not entirely clear, and should remain so,
and why this scene should be deemed “seminal” is
not all that clear either, but we will leave it at that—

and a crucial moment in “Sentimental Education” when Flaubert
has Frederic Moreau feel compassion for the gray haired woman
he glimpses briefly behind shutters,
the older woman he was obsessed with in his youth
when the sweet and the sour
wouldn’t have been seen on the same plate together
speaks for itself, and that is enough.
 



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