Saturday, 31 October 2009
Friday, 30 October 2009
No Fluente I said. I'm going for the sombre not the sombrero!
We compromised with the stetson Rusty had left behind. Let's just say it was a frightening spectacle.
Fluente produced from his man-bag a bottle of tequila and some limes, then raided my 1960's cocktail cabinet for the crusty bottle of triple sec last opened for the funeral of Winston Churchill for my Maiden aunt who had a penchant for 'stickies' day or night.
'Aye yai yai yai yai' Fluente shouted. 'Margherita time!'
The party now beckons...
Blogs may be sporadic for a while until I get the virus geeked out of the other machine. Let us hope that it is easier to remove than Hank.
Hank was a male au-pair that my first wife Joy insisted on after the incident with the naked Danish girl in the laundry room.
Hank fancied himself as a photographer and insisted on making a photo-documentary of the life of a British housewife; this required him to photograph Joy at all times of the day, performing her everyday tasks. This seemed harmless enough in essence while she was removing casseroles from the Aga and suchlike but when I found him snapping away as she reclined in the bath I felt that things had gone far enough.
It took three more months to get rid of Hank and Joy soon followed him.
I learned some time later that Hank and Joy were living together in Harmony Nebraska. Rusty had bumped into them at a pie baking contest. Joy wasn't feeling too well.
She had a virus.
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
I have lost my yellow plastic spoon; it was a very important part of my life and work, it helped form me and inform me.
It was a teaspoon I picked up at the Hayward Gallery when having a coffee after seeing the Bruce Nauman exhebition some years ago. I had gone with a woman called Jane. I cannot remermber what colour spoon she stirred her coffee with.
Please, if anyone knows the whereabouts of a yellow plastic spoon, let me know.
I must return to the Hayward to see if I can replace it but deep inside I know it will not be the same...
Sunday, 25 October 2009
As I looked into the skip a womans head popped up; a mass of glorious curls redolent of the fragrant nurse Caz.Hello dad! She said. She rummaged in a sequinned evening bag then handed me an object wrapped in paper. It is 93 year old birthday cake she said.
I told her I only like the icing.
That's all right she said. Just eat the icing and lie about the rest.
That''s what every-body else does.
Friday, 23 October 2009
Thursday, 22 October 2009
On the back he writes:
This is where it all started. this is where I got my name; Lula-Mae and me had been down to see Richard Brautigan one summer and we all decided to go skinny dipping by the bridge. Lula-Mae laughed when I stood naked in front of the red metal and she said: Far out Billy-Bob, you are so sun burnt I can't tell you from the bridge.
Richard laughed and said: "I guess Billy-Bob's just gone rusty, and it ain't even raining.
the name stuck after that.
Rusty wrote this part of a Brautigan poem at the bottom of the card. In place of a name:
It's Raining In Love
I don't know what it is,
but I distrust myself
when I start to like a girl a lot. -Richard Brautigan
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
I found the balls in the back of a rubbish truck in Notting Hill. The bowl was a gift from a woman who knew that I didn't have one.
What worries me is that this image would be quite happily considered 'ART' by those who think they know best.
It is nothing more than a bowl of balls.
Saturday, 17 October 2009
Each time I visit I am encouraged to paint an image of my latest dream.
Last night I dreamt I was a child. It was a stormy autumn evening and I had been milking pomkin the goat who had lashed out at me with her hooves annd rendered me unconscious for a while.
Groggily I returned to the house and entered, but somehow I had gone in through the wrong door and found myself neither inside nor outside. there was a wall of raining teaspoons clouding my view of the walnut tree and of the three beakers on the window sill; my mothers red one, my dead fathers black one and my yellow one. Each time I reached out for my beaker (I was very thirsty) my hand was stung by the falling spoons.
I gave up in the end and finally fell asleep.
I awoke some time later on the straw in pomkins shed.
If it is possible for a goat to sneer, pomkin sneered.
Doctor F chuckled and clapped her hands on hearing the dream and seeing my painting and then ushered me out of the room giving me no explanation as to what it all might mean.
Friday, 16 October 2009
Sunday, 11 October 2009
We decided not to talk about it.
Instead I went to make cheese on toast for us all. I could hear Rusty and Babs talking and laughing in the other room as I grated cheese and then a finger. I burned the toast and Rusty came in to criticise.
I was about to throw the burnt toast in the bin when he pushed me to one side. He then grilled the bread on the other side, cut off the crusts and sliced the slices horizontally. once toasted on the cut side he had made 4 pieces of melba toast.
Here he said; presenting it to Babs.
What's that she asked.
Why is it called that?
It is named after Dame Nellie Melba, who, when not eating peaches liked to eat this stuff.
Thursday, 8 October 2009
Sunday, 4 October 2009
Saturday, 3 October 2009
And I think is that a view of a mountain or a view from a mountain and Babs says that the sky is as high as an elephants eye.
And I say you are lying Babs
And she says I know, I heard it in a movie. And eveyone knows that the movies lie.
I left that sleeping dog to do the lying.
Friday, 2 October 2009
I said no. Personal experience is like horse shit; it needs to stand around for a year or two before you dig it into the garden. Otherwise it is too caustic to do anything other than kill everything.
So you won't be writing about me.
Oh yes! I'll be writing about you, but only the stuff I make up.
He said, as he eyed my larder, she may be a nurse Jan but the only thing she is nursing right now is a hangover. He went on to say: Women teach us a lot of things Jan but all she done teach me is that I'm way out of my depth, and she aint teaching me to swim.
He found eggs, strawberries, black pepper and cream.
Heck, if we aint got a prairie omelette. He said.
What is in a prairie omelette I asked.
Whatever you got left in the chuck wagon at the end of a drive. He said.
Do you know, a strawberry and black pepper sweet omelette with cream is quite extraordinarily delicious.
Hey Rusty I said as we licked our fingers, let's go rent Brokeback Mountain.
Aw shucks. Said Rusty.
rusty came along shortly after the photo was taken and shot the thing with a Colt 48.
I said Rusty you can't do that and he said Jan, the constitution says I can do what I damn well please with my gun.
I said GULP.
Thursday, 1 October 2009
Tristan has a 'gig' (nasty word) coming up and requires my help for read throughs and rehearsals.
He is reading 3 poems with films made for the event at the Tabernacle, Powis Square on October 10th. Ditto TV are putting on the show... Probably best to be there. Just in case.
Babs says she will attend.
Swine flu. Pigs flying. what's the difference?