Portrait of a woman in pink and blue by Joash Woodrow Joash Woodrow has made his debut. Although he has been working since the 1950s and has produced over 3500 paintings, the 77 year-old reclusive British artist has, until now, worked in complete solitude. During the course of clearing out Woodrow’s three-bedroom house in March, 2001, his brother Saul sent a box of 100 books to an antique bookshop, and unknowingly included several in which Woodrow had painted over the pages. The owner, Richard Axe, intrigued at the bold, colourful illustrations, contacted an artist friend, who called Andrew Stewart, owner …
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There is some amazing writing and thinking going on at Interconnected at the moment. Distance is the half-life of causality. Quantum fluctuations evaporate and disperse in the isness; shouts get diluted in the atmosphere. I can’t pretend to understand most of what he is saying in the posts that follow, but it makes for a highly time-intensive and challenging browse.
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Three parts of a longer poem by George Albon, from his book Thousands Count Out Loud: He reassured himself with the smallest, the almost unborn thought. It held a center that harpies clawed. * It is going between (the bus). Part of me will actually miss this music. A gust of wind like gale. * Waking, life, & white shines out from the blue sky with a sound in it, window. These put me in mind of the summeriness of today: clear moving air, with lots of blue and white in it. These poems come via: Overlap: Drew Gardner’s Blog. …
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If you live in Vancouver (or even if you don’t) and you want to be treated to an amazing piece of aural art, phone (604) 696-1328. Thanks to Cup of Chicha for the tip.
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Thanks to my friend Brian Creswick (whose website will be up this week), I’ve discovered the hilarious and surreal poetry and song of Ivor Cutler: Fame first came in the late Fifties. He was lying on his bed with a primitive tape recorder for company and, as he puts it, a story came out of his brain. Surprised at the ease at which he could bypass his intellect he tried again, and a second story emerged and was also recorded. Then a third. Writing poetry then began to manifest itself. “My way of writing poetry was to go to a …