Sunday, 31 July 2011

just a wee bit a fun


test 3 [of 3]
oil on paper
11" x 15" quarter imperial cold pressed 300gms paper
yellow - pale hue, yellow ochre, alizarin crimson, titanium white
layout for oil on canvas


Saturday, 30 July 2011



"Based on a true story, SÉRAPHINE centres on Séraphine de Senlis (Moreau), a simple & profoundly devout housekeeper whose brilliantly colourful canvases adorn some of the most famous galleries in the world. German art critic & collector Wilhelm Uhde (The Lives of Others Ulrich Tukur) - the first Picasso buyer & champion of naïve primitive painter Le Douanier Rousseau - discovers her paintings while she is working for him as a maid in the beautiful countryside of Senlis near Paris. A moving & unexpected relationship develops between the avant-garde art dealer & the visionary outsider artist.

Martin Provosts fictionalized & poignant portrait of Séraphine is a testament to creativity & the resilience of one womans spirit"

I kneel on the floor too
sometimes so close it's a blur & out of focus
I have three easels, but I don't use them
I'm not claiming to be as good or anything like that
just I laughed when I saw her doing the same


Saturday, 23 July 2011

Bridget's Song


I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Soft & warm continuing
Tapping on my roof & walls

And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain drenched streets
To England where my heart lies

My mind's distracted & diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you're asleep
And kiss you when you start your day

And a song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear & strain to rhyme

And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you

And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths & die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you go I

ok so it's "Kathy's Song" by Paul Simon
something's you just wished you'd written
but being the "worthless piece of shit" that I am
unfortunately the talent is lacking
I have so many "songs" undone

Thursday, 21 July 2011



open up the history books, let's go back in time
turn another page, read another lie
we've been fit up & shut up by what's been said
I wanna put a bullet in society's head
I've all the hate of a slave ship inside
asking questions it's a hobby of mine
I feel like the real prophet of rage
but it's hard to kick off from a psycological cage

time's up, time's up, time's up, time, time
time's up, time's up, time, time
Time's up

there's a piper in hamlyn & a piper in rio
and he's taking all the kids & now it's for real
he's still outta tune & he's still outta time
he's the devil's disciple leading the blind
what can justify this social crisis?
what can justify this urban decay?
I'm calling collect to a corpse called britain
when I look around I know something's missing

time's up, time's up, time's up, time, time
time's up, time's up, time, time
Time's up

Oxygen, Oxygen, Oxygen, Oxygen


time's up, time's up, time's up, time, time
time's up, time's up, time, time
Time's up

I wanna talk about those who died
I wanna talk about those burried alive
inmates of a system we are all deprived
by state machinery digging our graves
and I clearly understand that I my not live
but it's gone to far now to forgive
we've got dumb dumbs in power dumb dumbs trained on us
but the real dumb dumbs just don't make a fuss


those who don't defend themselves die
those who don't die are burried alive
in the prisons, in the reform schools
in the slums of workingclass districts
in the stone coffins in the new housing developments
in the crowded kindergardens & schools
in the brand new kitchens & bedrooms
filled with fancy furniture bought on credit

My life's on credit

Monday, 18 July 2011

A poem for Bridget

All that’s left is this recurring nightmare:
It’s as I see you in the street
I steel myself to smile & walk past you
But for some reason you turn to speak
Instead of conversation
It’s just a smile to let me know
That I never stood a chance.
I walk away crushed & broken hearted
As you laugh at me as I go

I wonder if it will wake me again tomorrow?

May 23rd 2011
[yeah I know, pathetic]