unfolded sheets and cornered pages, cobalt, rising from the blanket, found a world within the drawer - everything unpainted. the velour shadow of the curtain, quiet and thin and barely moving, bows before the wounded evening - everything unpainted.
I see her, Little Annie, in a shaded space on the far side of the street, vixen, stood against her trestle, beneath a tarpaulin that shivers. It is draped and slung with floating dresses, throws and scarves; tie-dye collage against a background of movement, of brickwork, of shapes and faces. She is weightless, appears so, almost … Continue reading Her Picasso Gift.
cut-up. Nat. Geo/ Boys' Own. watercolour wash. 20" X 30"
bad lieutenant had the greasy palm, sought soft fruit solace in an odd shaped bar. supped black sambuca - contracted boozers' arm. couldn't find way out of carrier bag. caught a tap on the chin from the bristol crow. grew to dislike soubriquet bestowed. reversed tartan, tripled vodka intake flow. couldn't find way out … Continue reading soubriquet.
