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, March 29, 2020

Nessun Dorma in a time of plague


 
Here and There and Everywhere 69,5 x 69,5 cm - acrylic on paper


 


A SELFISH LOVE POEM ( BELLEZA MALATA)

Pollen on the olive leaves again.
San Baronto, Arezzo, arrosto vitello con patate.
I want to come back to you as soon as I can.

The fattest lemon ever seen, and felt, was in Sicily.
Rolling off a garden table, it nearly broke a big toe.
I wouldn’t mind pressing my face to the nose gay

of a Milanese perfume whose fragrance rises off
the olive hued, peach-fuzzy neck of its maker’s
   elegant daughter, then lingers in a tall-windowed room.
(Ah, the old romance scam. Sounds creepy too, but it feels empirical.)

I’ve always thought that, under certain conditions, wine
without food is marginally regrettable. But food without the
rough density of a country red or a noble Brunello, what’s that?

Scarcity. I don’t like the austere. It’s too thin-lipped, hard bodied, 
empty inside, Nordic in its responses. Not at all like the peach
that seduced me once in the hills above Vinci. Leaning back

when I bit into it I still got squirted, white shirt wrecked.
I don’t know how much of you will be left but when
you feel better I’m coming back to love every region of you.



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