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 23, 2015

The World drifts in

Dog Rose V 40 x 50 cm acryl/spray paint on canvas - available -


A Swedish woman in Madrid helped us out
   she wore a blue uniform, a little red hat, tour guide
go to the youth hostel, she said, there you will find shelter
   what we found was an endless line
of young Europeans each holding a regulation bed sheet
   they looked different from us, noses and cheekbones
emphatic as if their faces had been fashioned from
the cobblestone road that runs between palace and cathedral
stoic boredom in their eyes traces of irony
   around their mouths
I remember walking under the orange trees of Cordoba 
   longing for a cigarette
   it was Sunday morning in southern Spain
   you can’t buy things Sunday mornings in Europe
   well regulated fountains splashing down
   to the Jewish Quarter, no Jews now though, expelled in 1492, no more Jews
after Columbus sailed the ocean
   took my first shit on the continent at a train station
Spanish-French border, Port Bou (Spain) Cerbère (France) the toilet (Turkish)
   room for the feet either side of a hole     interesting, non?
French border official looked like a Gallic Paul McCartney
   sans bass guitar sans Liverpool accent
had steak and pommes frites for dinner got lost in the Louvre
before it became Facebook showcase for selfie-taking philistines
   (thus bitched the old man, all day and well into the night)
Californians tossing Frisbees in St. Peter’s square     my fellow Americans
if provoked in Europe offer an annoyingly superior smile
light a cigarette, shrug ever
   so slightly     stoic, ironic   darling do I look like
          the secretary of state
   director of CIA    chairman of the fucking board of whatever corporation’s   
        destroying our universe      can I buy you a latte at             
Starbucks?       stoic, ironic
someone actually said I looked like Gary Cooper
   Christ, I was only eighteen
Gary Cooper was always fifty, I believe, or at least forty
   but never eighteen      this is where irony might have come in handy


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