Monday, 1 May 2017

Gary Goodman

Hot Tub
I stood in the pub garden on my own
finished a cigarette and flicked the butt –
it arc-d beautifully for ages
in slow motion
and landed straight in the middle of an ashtray
another time
somebody Frisbee-ed a Jaffa cake towards me
I was in the studio
and it was about 10 metres distance
I caught it in my mouth
neither of these brilliant acheivements
were captured on film
and sent to You’ve Been Framed –
usually I feel like a wasp at a picnic
or a dead puppy at a school disco
so it would have been good for my ego
two girls on the train had been to a gig
they filmed it on their mobile phone
and replayed the whole show
on their nasty tinny harsh shriek devices
my ears were bleeding
and there seemed to be a weird
electrical wire fizzing in my brain
while this hideous noise was going on
they talked about going on holiday
and the main thing they were
basing their choice on
was whether there was a good hot tub
I wanted to flick burning cigarettes
and Jaffa cakes
into their stupid hot tub
I also wanted to cry
and there were about 100 stations
until my stop
Gary Goodman

Monday, 13 March 2017

Sean Scully

‘I always found the idea of Cézanne, walking up the mountain every day to paint it, a very moving metaphor for faith. Over time the paintings can appear similar, however they are changing slowly, as the sensibility of the painter and the medium of painting lose their separate identities.’ – Sean Scully

Thursday, 5 January 2017

John Berger

“What makes photography a strange invention – with unforeseeable consequences – is that its primary raw materials are light and time.”

John Berger (via crinaprida)

Saturday, 24 December 2016

A bad idea written down

A bad idea written down is far better and far more useful to you than a blank sheet of paper and a mythical piece of brilliance that has been stuck in your head out of fear of failure. Go ahead and fail. Then make it better.

My screenwriting prof

Friday, 18 November 2016

Breakfast, Jacques Prévert

(By: Jacques Prévert
He poured the coffee
Into the cup
He put the milk
Into the cup of coffee
He put the sugar
Into the coffee with milk
With a small spoon
He churned
He drank the coffee
And he put down the cup
Without any word to me
He lit
One cigarette
He made circles
With the smoke
He shook off the ash
Into the ashtray
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
He got up
He put on
His hat on his head
He put on
His raincoat
Because it was raining
And he left
Into the rain
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
And I buried
My face in my hands
And I cried.

Jacques Prevert

To Make a Portrait of a Bird

First paint a cage
With an open door
Then paint
Something pretty 
Something simple
Something beautiful
Something useful
For the bird
Then place the canvas against a tree
In a garden
In a wood
Or in a forest
Hide yourself behind the tree
Without speaking
Without moving...
Sometimes the bird will arrive soon
But it could also easily take many years
For it to decide
Wait if necessary for years
The rapidity or slowness of the arrival of the bird
Has no connection with the success of the painting
When the bird arrives
If it arrives
Observe the most profound silence
Wait until the bird enters the cage
And when it has entered
Gently close the door with the brush
Erase one by one all of the bars
While being careful not to touch any of the feathers of the bird
Then make a portrait of the tree
Choosing the most beautiful of its branches
For the bird
Paint also the green foliage and the freshness of the wind
The dust of the sun
And the noise of the creatures of the grass in the heat of summer
And then wait for the bird to decide to sing
If the bird does not sing
It's a bad sign
A sign that the painting is no good
But if it does sing it's a good sign
A sign that you can sign.
Then you gently pull out
One of the feathers of the bird
And you sign your name in a corner of the painting.

Trans. Eugene Levich

Pour Faire le Portrait d'un Oiseau - par Jacques Prévert 

Sunday, 13 November 2016

Eckhart Tolle

“To offer no resistance to life is to be in a state of grace, ease, and lightness. This state is then no longer dependent upon things being in a certain way, good or bad. It seems almost paradoxical, yet when your inner dependency on form is gone, the general conditions of your life, the outer forms, tend to improve greatly. Things, people, or conditions that you thought you needed for your happiness now come to you with no struggle or effort on your part, and you are free to enjoy and appreciate them - while they last. All those things, of course, will still pass away, cycles will come and go, but with dependency gone there is no fear of loss anymore. Life flows with ease.”

Eckhart Tolle

Saturday, 8 October 2016

Pablo Picasso

"What matters is spontaneity, impulse. That’s the real truth"
Pablo Picasso

Sunday, 31 July 2016

Alice Neel  

Sunday, 13 September 2015

Naomi Shihab Nye

“From my father I inherited the ability to stand in a field and stare.”

Thursday, 27 August 2015

Willa Cather

"The earth was warm under me, and warm as I crumbled it through my fingers. Queer little red bugs came out and moved in slow squadrons around me. Their backs were polished vermilion, with black spots. I kept as still as I could. Nothing happened. I did not expect anything to happen. I was something that lay under the sun and felt it, like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more. I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep."

- From My Ántonia

Tuesday, 18 August 2015

Gerhard Richter

“My landscapes are not only beautiful, or nostalgic, with a Romantic or classical suggestion of lost Paradises, but above all ‘untruthful.’ By ‘untruthful,’ I mean the glorifying way we look at Nature. Nature, which in all its forms is always against us, because it knows no meaning, no pity, no sympathy, because it knows nothing and is absolutely mindless, the total antithesis of ourselves.” – Gerhard Richter .
Gerhard Richter artist

Life of Lu

Thursday, 23 July 2015

Robert Graves

Love and honor. They are the two great things, and now they’re dimmed and blighted. Today, love is just sex and sentimentality. Love is really a recognition of truth, a recognition of another person’s integrity and truth in a way that is compatible with — that makes both of you light up when you recognize the quality in the other. That’s what love is. It’s a recognition of singularity… And love is giving and giving and giving … not looking for any return. Until you do that, you can’t love.


Monday, 11 May 2015

Wisława Szymborska

The End and the Beginning

By Wisława Szymborska
Translated By Joanna Trzeciak
After every war
someone has to clean up.
Things won’t
straighten themselves up, after all.

Someone has to push the rubble
to the side of the road,
so the corpse-filled wagons
can pass.

Someone has to get mired
in scum and ashes,
sofa springs,
splintered glass,
and bloody rags.

Someone has to drag in a girder
to prop up a wall.
Someone has to glaze a window,
rehang a door.

Photogenic it’s not,
and takes years.
All the cameras have left
for another war.

We’ll need the bridges back,
and new railway stations.
Sleeves will go ragged
from rolling them up.

Someone, broom in hand,
still recalls the way it was.
Someone else listens
and nods with unsevered head.
But already there are those nearby
starting to mill about
who will find it dull.

From out of the bushes
sometimes someone still unearths
rusted-out arguments
and carries them to the garbage pile.

Those who knew
what was going on here
must make way for
those who know little.
And less than little.
And finally as little as nothing.

In the grass that has overgrown
causes and effects,
someone must be stretched out
blade of grass in his mouth
gazing at the clouds.

Wednesday, 6 May 2015

Sea Water Benefits


“Thalassa” is Greek for “sea” but it is also the name of a goddess who personified the sea itself.  Some believe Thalassa was Aphrodite’s mother.
In the 4th century BC, Hippocrates came up with the idea of thalassotherapy–using the sea as a means to cure both physical and psychological illnesses.
Inhaling the sea air’s negative ions is good for the immune system, reduces stress and regulates chemicals such as serotonin.
The salt in the sea water disinfects and can improve the skin, remove toxins, ward off respiratory diseases and improve blood circulation.

Tuesday, 7 April 2015

Artist's Statement

The pieces are expressed in two layers: the materials that I paint on, and what is painted on this surface. Both of these elements are integral to the work.
The work begins unplanned. Line drawings, markings, painted strokes and scribbles are made with numerous mediums including oil, lumber stick, resin stick, charcoal, graphite and ink. I work on either simple wood panels or choose from a collection of found materials – such as old tabletops, cabinet doors, wood blocks wrapped in canvas, and old book covers.
Recently the work has expanded to installation pieces and books. Installations involve images drawn/painted directly on the gallery walls, which are eventually painted over. The transient nature of the images is part of the work. When working with the books, images are either added to the pages, or pages are removed and new pages are stitched in.
The drawings/markings are created primarily with my non-dominant hand. The use of my left hand allows me to draw in an unpracticed manner – an attempt to capture the purity or innocence of a child’s drawing. I am not conscious while I work of representing a specific story or idea in the pieces. The exact meaning of a piece in many instances eludes me – in the end I am more often struck by an emotional response to what I paint and draw.

Saturday, 4 April 2015

Jack Kerouac

Early morning gentle rain,
  two big bumblebees
Humming at their work

Jack Kerouac, Book of Haikus

Monday, 30 March 2015

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“To the attentive eye, each moment of the year has its own beauty, and in the same fields, it beholds, every hour, a picture which was never seen before, and which shall never be seen again”

Ralph Waldo Emerson (via birdsong217)

Charles Reznikoff

"I will walk by myself
and cure myself
in the sunshine and the wind."
— Charles Reznikoff, from “Autobiography: New York,” Poems 1918-1975: The Complete Poems of Charles Reznikoff(Black Sparrow Press, 1977)