My piece, 'A Surprising Success: The Maas Ice-Cream Empire 1935-76' (A Family History by Henry Eves), is published today in the anthology 'Nothing Is More Real Than Nothing: Writings On Ezra Maas' [Valley Press] I first became aware of the reclusive artist, Ezra Maas, several years ago through the writings of his biographer, Daniel James. … Continue reading Nothing Is More Real Than Nothing.
Z A beak of sleep, painted crudely on a tank, becomes tainted, reflected, a skewed boot, forever glancing off a surface; destructive and distasteful as O’Brien suggested. V Peace, askance, becomes a spade; a blade to dig a grave with; a tricky proposition in any city street. The school of matter over mind: predictive. Letters … Continue reading Face/Value
Notes From a Fragile Island…26
January 8 1999 Walcott Street. The morning rain is heavy. A and I struggle our amps and guitars up Walcott Street toward the Hat & Feather where we have hired the back room to teach his brother, G, our short, Shit-Pop set for the Moles gig. When we get to the top of Walcott Street, … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island…26
Jack had a spare for J. Lydon’s book chat event at Whitley Bay’s Playhouse last week. (Book chat? Book shat, more like, I didn’t say.) It was kind of him to think of me. The show had been postponed from last year. The queue winds three sides of the theatre, beach front, side street, back … Continue reading Swastika Décor.
Notes From a Fragile Island. 22
June 18 2018 (Berlin) Three schoolgirls, skirted & shirted, each with a small rucksack across their white cottoned back, play a neat dance game in the carriage on the 7 u-bahn. They spin & clap the upturned soles of their smart shoes together, spin & slap palms. A pleated chorus of words & laughter accompanies … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island. 22
Notes From a Fragile Island. 19
March 28 2015 (Croydon) I cut Ewa's hair and then the three of us, Ewa, Tony B and me, eat Polish white sausage with garnishes of all kinds. We eat them with crusty white bread and fried onions. We drink Polish lager. And after, I accept one Polish cigarette with such ease that no one … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island. 19