Anodyne
Saturday, December 17, 2005
 
Don't Dream It's Over
 

Untitled (Illuminated Tree), 2005
Friday, December 16, 2005
 
Lovely English accent:

"D'you have any Shirley Coombs? Detective stories. By Doyle."
Thursday, December 15, 2005
 

Untitled (Petro-Can), 2005
 
Tecopa Hot Springs, California -- is it January yet?
 

Mr. Isaac Hayes, his ecstatic Wonderful (1974) on high repeat here at Main & Broadway tonight.

"Yes it is, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you..."
 
Kits mom-'n-dad arrive at the counter with a Cinema Sewer calendar in tow.

KM: Would this be a suitable gift for a twenty year-old who's into "independent" culture?

CJB: (wincing a bit) Sure!

[cash transaction]

KM (reading a Cinema Sewer trivia question): Sex act....sex act....say, do they print the answers with these?

CJB: Yep. There they are, see? Upside down.

KM: That can't be right. It says, "fisting."

CJB: Uh-huh.

KM: But the answer's supposed to be "a sex act!" That doesn't make any sense at all!

(beat)

KM: (to KD) ...do you know what fisting is?

KD: ....no.

KM: (to CJB) Do you?

CJB: Uh-huh.

KM: Well?

CJB: http://www.sextutor.com/fisting.shtml!

Feel free to fill in the rest of the dialogue yourself, concluding with me locking the door and pouring a much-needed beer.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
 

A Fence Secured to a Tree, 2005
Monday, December 12, 2005
 
To Seattle, to scout up some pre-Xmas stock. Back Thursday.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
 

Rembrandt, The Night Watch, 1642
 

Rembrandt, The Star of the Kings, c. 1651

I was actually thinking of this little etching from a VAG show a year or two ago. A lot of Rembrandt's night pieces have this quality about them; most of the image is impenetrable, with just a few faces or stray details emerging into legibility. Your eyes "adjust" to a Rembrandt night piece just like they'd adjust to a darkened room.

(Soundtrack: King Crimson's thematically kindred The Night Watch:

Shine, shine, the light of good works shine
The watch before the city gates depicted in their prime
That golden light all grimy now
Three hundred years have passed
The worthy Captain and his squad of troopers standing fast

The artist knew their faces well
The husbands of his lady friends
His creditors and councillors
In armour bright, the merchant men

Official moments of the guild
In poses keen from bygone days
The city fathers frozen there
Upon the canvas dark with age

The smell of paint, a flask of wine
And turn those faces all to me
The blunderbuss and halberd-shaft
And Dutch respectability

They make their entrance one by one
Defenders of that way of life
The red brick home, the bourgeoisie
Guitar lessons for the wife

So many years we suffered here
Our country racked with Spanish wars
Now comes a chance to find ourselves
And quiet reigns behind our doors

We think about posterity again...

And so the pride of little men
The burghers good and true
Still living through the painter's hand
Request you all to understand)
 
My Favorite North American Bookstore

A Novel Idea Bookstore, in bustling downtown Lincoln, Nebraska. Youngish owner, youngish staff, resident cat, great stock, great prices, killer Mexican restaurant and the Midwest's best collection of jazz and soul CDs just around the corner.

Powered by Blogger

.post-title { display: none!important; }