Wednesday, June 29, 2016
WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT
Lucid and informed analysis by Paul Mason. Definitely worth taking the time to watch the whole video.
Sunday, June 26, 2016
CAT-OLOGUE
I asked Pushkin the Cat what he thought of Brexit.
Frankly my dear I don't give a damn, he said.
You're quoting Gone with the Wind, you never saw the film, I said.
Allright, take out frankly my dear, he said.
I like your saying my dear, I said.
It's only a quote, he said.
You have no feelings for me, I said.
I'm a cat, he said.
My beloved cat, I said.
I'm not your cat and my name isn't Pushkin, he said.
And cats don't talk to people, I said.
So what about Brexit? he said
CURIOUSLY IGNORED INCIDENT
Saturday, June 25, 2016
Friday, June 24, 2016
THE HORROR
The horror...the horror.
It feels like a bereavement. It feels like the Donald Trumps, the Nigel Farages, the Boris Johnsons, the Michael Goves now rule the world.
I stayed up until 5 am, watching the blue clouds gradually creeping over the map, hiding the light, and I went to bed thinking that maybe I was asleep, having a nightmare.
Just turned on the news now. It's real.
It feels like a bereavement. It feels like the Donald Trumps, the Nigel Farages, the Boris Johnsons, the Michael Goves now rule the world.
I stayed up until 5 am, watching the blue clouds gradually creeping over the map, hiding the light, and I went to bed thinking that maybe I was asleep, having a nightmare.
Just turned on the news now. It's real.
Thursday, June 23, 2016
REMAIN ON THIS PLANET
Am voting Remain today. Anything that unites us on this planet has to be
a good thing, even if it involves difficulties to sort out. One thing
we must all agree on is that we are, above all, citizens of the earth,
this earth which covers this one planet. Imagine if everyone felt as
patriotic about the whole planet as they do about their country:
wouldn't that be a good thing?
Perhaps because ever since childhood I've lived in and been 'at home' in quite a few countries I've never really understood flag-waving. Cheering for your sports team, your school, your friends - yes, of course. But the geographical location of that bit of the planet where you happen to be born, or where some of your ancestors were born, why is that such a big deal? Sometimes you want another country's team to win the football - why not? Does that make you a traitor?
The fear of immigration is the fear that we'll all get mixed together and the lines of demarcation will gradually become fainter and fainter. Would that be such a bad thing? Eventually the mix would produce new ideas, new people, new solutions. New problems too, of course, but that's life innit?
Perhaps because ever since childhood I've lived in and been 'at home' in quite a few countries I've never really understood flag-waving. Cheering for your sports team, your school, your friends - yes, of course. But the geographical location of that bit of the planet where you happen to be born, or where some of your ancestors were born, why is that such a big deal? Sometimes you want another country's team to win the football - why not? Does that make you a traitor?
The fear of immigration is the fear that we'll all get mixed together and the lines of demarcation will gradually become fainter and fainter. Would that be such a bad thing? Eventually the mix would produce new ideas, new people, new solutions. New problems too, of course, but that's life innit?
Friday, May 27, 2016
YESTERDAY AT BOOKARTBOOKSHOP....
Marvellous
get-together at high noon at bookartbookshop today (or rather
yesterday) with George Szirtes and Clarissa Upchurch, Ian ( "Vincent" of Wayfarers's Notes) and Karleen Mulder, and another friend who had also travelled some distance to give me their blessings
and appreciation. How fortunate I am - things like this re-charge the
creative batteries which sometimes flicker and fade. Thank you all.
I take the liberty of copying George's wonderful boost to me on his Facebook page:
Rising at 5:30 I get ready, have breakfast at 7 and am in a taxi three-quarter of an hour later. Having booked a specific train I have to stick to it. This means buying a new ticket from Bristol Temple Meads to Bristol Parkway, letting a perfectly good train go and waiting another forty-five minutes on the platform for the booked train. It is sunny and cold at Parkway but warming up. Once on the train I begin to feel very sleepy and almost nod off once or twice on the way. At Paddington there is a delay on the tube because of a signalling problem but eventually one arrives and I go to Old Street via Moorgate and walk the quarter of a mile or so to Bookartbookshop in Pitfield Street for Natalie d'Arbeloff's exhibition. Unfortunately I arrive a little early while the shop is locked so have a cup of tea at the friendly Ned's Noodle Bar next door, but soon Natalie arrives, as do some of her friends, and Clarissa too and we look at Natalie's tiny exhibits in the tiny shop which is dedicated to book artists.
I
would rather like to write a full article on Natalie's work, enough for
now to say it is essentially narrative, autobiographical and
philosophical, using words and deploying a variety of visual styles that
tease, delight and move the viewer. Her work isn't very much like
anyone else's but some of it is like a cross between a diary, a graphic
novel, and sketches by Chagall.
Afterwards we have lunch at the nearest pizza place. There are six of us. It turns out not one of us was born in England. Our various birthplaces are Paris, China, Jamaica, Australia, South Africa and Hungary. We drink to that then discuss food, life elsewhere and the existence or otherwise of the soul. One of us, Simon, had been, among other things, a sports psychologist advising Crystal Palace football team, not recently but back in Dave Bassett days. We don't talk of that though I'd love to have asked him more.
Then we head off in our various directions. It's quite warm, almost hot now and we have dressed for something ten degrees cooler.
The train journeys are deeply drowsy affairs. Arriving home we drop into bed for an hour or two. We take longer to recover from things that we used to. My ankle is swollen from too much train sitting.
Below, a link to Natalie's website. Do explore it in detail. She is quite a treasure to find. Especially check out the marvellous artist's books.
My main website
Afterwards we have lunch at the nearest pizza place. There are six of us. It turns out not one of us was born in England. Our various birthplaces are Paris, China, Jamaica, Australia, South Africa and Hungary. We drink to that then discuss food, life elsewhere and the existence or otherwise of the soul. One of us, Simon, had been, among other things, a sports psychologist advising Crystal Palace football team, not recently but back in Dave Bassett days. We don't talk of that though I'd love to have asked him more.
Then we head off in our various directions. It's quite warm, almost hot now and we have dressed for something ten degrees cooler.
The train journeys are deeply drowsy affairs. Arriving home we drop into bed for an hour or two. We take longer to recover from things that we used to. My ankle is swollen from too much train sitting.
Below, a link to Natalie's website. Do explore it in detail. She is quite a treasure to find. Especially check out the marvellous artist's books.
My main website
Saturday, May 14, 2016
EXHIBITION AT BOOKARTBOOKSHOP
The opening of my show at bookartbookshop went very well, a good crowd
packed the premises and many good words were said about the work.
Herewith some pictures I took before people arrived. I tried to photograph the work displayed in the window (a unique bookwork titled NATSHEPSUT - you can read a description of it on the Artists' Books section of my website) but because of reflections, some strangely relevant, ghostly things came up. A couple of examples are among those below. The first shot is of Tanya Peixoto and Chiara Ambrosio talking in the bookshop doorway.
Herewith some pictures I took before people arrived. I tried to photograph the work displayed in the window (a unique bookwork titled NATSHEPSUT - you can read a description of it on the Artists' Books section of my website) but because of reflections, some strangely relevant, ghostly things came up. A couple of examples are among those below. The first shot is of Tanya Peixoto and Chiara Ambrosio talking in the bookshop doorway.
Sunday, May 01, 2016
IMMINENT NdA EXHIBITION AT BOOKARTBOOKSHOP
The legendarily magnificent Tanya Peixoto who created, runs and animates the legendarily unique, small and perfectly formed bookartbookshop in Hoxton, London, invited me a while back to have a solo show of some of my autobiographical books, boxes etc. What's more, she felt that there should be a new edition, in colour like the original, of Augustine's True Confession, the handwritten journal published, with help from the Arts Council, in a b&w version in 1989 (out of print).
Tanya offered to equally share the cost of printing, and so... drum roll....the brand new edition of ATC will be launched at the Private View on 12th May, a joint publication by bookartbookshop and NdA . If you can't be there in person (why not?) you can order the book ...£10...from bookartbookshop.
Meanwhile here's the cover, along with a photo of the original journal sitting in the house I built for it. Included in the show.
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