The Dissertation Series continue, this time from Spain with The Curve of Destiny Exhibition featuring Jesûs Mari Lazkano at the Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao, March 2007
Separatists
Abando
Leave your shadows underground
Let life
Bring your light to the surface
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Friday, 11 March 2011
Thursday, 10 March 2011
Artistic Motivation - Miami
The dissertation Series continues with responses to the Abstraction, Extracting from the World Exhibition, Various Artists, Millennium Gallery - Sheffield, February 2007
Miami
I don't think so, no I'm sure
We never ever have met
By the washing powder you say
Well, unless it was special offers
I doubt it though
I'd be most unlikely to stray so far
Action
Cameras roll
Pan in pan out - cut across the set
Ladies; in the aisles please
I don't think so, no I'm sure
We never ever have met
Miami
I don't think so, no I'm sure
We never ever have met
By the washing powder you say
Well, unless it was special offers
I doubt it though
I'd be most unlikely to stray so far
Action
Cameras roll
Pan in pan out - cut across the set
Ladies; in the aisles please
I don't think so, no I'm sure
We never ever have met
Wednesday, 9 March 2011
Artistic Motivation - Iris Flex
The Dissertation Series continues with Sojourn by Derek Sprawson at the Bend in the River Gallery, Gainsborough, February 2007
Iris flex
Trapeze, wired to the sky
Sinusoidal over the still void that lies below
Skip so dainty, faint lines
Muslin curtains
Hitch a ride swinging so
Go gentle to and fro
Downalong to the strains of string guitars
And the outdoor rhythms of the pavement splashing sedans
Deserts and torpedoes
Cauliflower and rice
Children's toys inflected
Projected film
Spines to splice; sliced, laced
Traced in ever finer lines
Mains braced in suspension
Common kindness
On the boundaries of comprehension
Passed the treacheries, beyond the tension
Iris flex
Trapeze, wired to the sky
Sinusoidal over the still void that lies below
Skip so dainty, faint lines
Muslin curtains
Hitch a ride swinging so
Go gentle to and fro
Downalong to the strains of string guitars
And the outdoor rhythms of the pavement splashing sedans
Deserts and torpedoes
Cauliflower and rice
Children's toys inflected
Projected film
Spines to splice; sliced, laced
Traced in ever finer lines
Mains braced in suspension
Common kindness
On the boundaries of comprehension
Passed the treacheries, beyond the tension
Tuesday, 8 March 2011
Artistic Motivation - Mirror Image
More from the Dissertation Series, this time a response to the Delineate Exhibition featuring Matthew Shelton at Dean Clough Gallery - Halifax, February 2007
Mirror image 
Catch 22 at Delineate
Your art in lines
Layered
On lost and found and printed paper
Tea party words saved for a canvas
Backdrops collected from the streets
For your de-linear exhibition space
Is this a breach of copyright?
Or did you gain your permissions from the original graphic artists
Or typesetters
Or menu makers
Or authors, or writers
Or tramps, or vagrants
Or ladies of the night
Or your otherwise
Catch-22 mad hatters
Mirror image 
Catch 22 at Delineate
Your art in lines
Layered
On lost and found and printed paper
Tea party words saved for a canvas
Backdrops collected from the streets
For your de-linear exhibition space
Is this a breach of copyright?
Or did you gain your permissions from the original graphic artists
Or typesetters
Or menu makers
Or authors, or writers
Or tramps, or vagrants
Or ladies of the night
Or your otherwise
Catch-22 mad hatters
Monday, 7 March 2011
Artistic Motivation - Trapped
The first poem from the Dissertation series, written whilst visiting Lucy Jones' Exhibition Looking at Self in Lincoln's Usher Gallery, January 2007.
Trapped
A double gin injected with tomato juice and liquorice syrup
The consistency of Havoline engine oil, but less fluid
Tumbled over rocks, sharp spikes, granite cliffs
Hung, as if suspended from the Old Man of Hoy
Hung-over, above the crashing sea
Twisted, contorted, bare feet find a footing - the drugs kick in
Sod the lot of them; but that won't do relax, reflect
Climb with uneasy wild steps, burn those broken step bridges
Beyond the smoke of roast skin, keep the fires, the braziers, the beacons
Always the shout - bastards, why me, why anyone?
Twitch, shudder, slaver on the pavement - bugger it
If only for a day I could wear more human, less humanoids shoes
Trapped
A double gin injected with tomato juice and liquorice syrup
The consistency of Havoline engine oil, but less fluid
Tumbled over rocks, sharp spikes, granite cliffs
Hung, as if suspended from the Old Man of Hoy
Hung-over, above the crashing sea
Twisted, contorted, bare feet find a footing - the drugs kick in
Sod the lot of them; but that won't do relax, reflect
Climb with uneasy wild steps, burn those broken step bridges
Beyond the smoke of roast skin, keep the fires, the braziers, the beacons
Always the shout - bastards, why me, why anyone?
Twitch, shudder, slaver on the pavement - bugger it
If only for a day I could wear more human, less humanoids shoes
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