The Struggling Kind

Jean Pierre: Art I not always 'at it' in art?
Marina: Yes, Shakespeare, you are. You have to live it. In fact you have to live IT so much
that you never have any spare time to actualy live.
Jean Pierre: If I paint quickly maybe I will.
Marina: You can only paint as quick as the canvas will dry. The painting always changes in
the drying process.
Jean Pierre: I know, it always starts to paint itself.
Marina: Moreso, it starts to paint you. Tells you what kind of painter you are.
Jean Pierre: I know what type I am. The struggling kind.
Marina: Yes, Time hasn't been very kind to you. It hasn't caught up.
Jean Pierre: I suppose its better than being behind the times.
Marina: I knew a failed artist like that once. Had a blog called Modern Art.
Jean Pierre: Not very original.
Marina: Oh, that wasn't the original title.
Jean Pierre: What was it?
Marina: Art Modern.
Jean Pierre: Isn't that the same?
Marina: No, the two words are totaly different.
Jean Pierre: Sometimes this Art lark baffles me.
Marina: You invented it!
Jean Pierre: Me and my kind, yes.
Marina: Art is a bit like paint that runs. You can't control it.
Jean Pierre: We are always chasing new ideas.
Marina: Like a puppy dog in a tale of shadows.
Jean Pierre: Should that be my next title?
Marina: Maybe. The title's been painted. Now you have to compose the story of the painting.
Jean Pierre: I'll know when its done, it'll be when I'm fainting.
Marina: That's your secret, is it?
Jean Pierre: Yes, an inexhaustable amount of perseverence.
Marina: Its a shame modern art collectors haven't the same.
Jean Pierre: Perhaps that's why that Modern Art blog didn't get known.
Marina: I think the author's still trying.   

Imploding Star

Art

ART IS NOT A FOUR LETTER WORD. THE PRICE WE PAY FOR IT IS EQUAL TO THE PRICE
THE ARTIST PAID FOR MAKING IT.

ART IS A DART UPON TARGET OF THE UNEXPECTED. ART, WE DON'T KNOW WHAT IT
IS UNTIL IT HAPPENS. SOMETIMES IT IS THE ART OF MAKING US PART WITH OUR MONEY.

ART IS HEART. WHEN IT IS TOO MUCH HEAD IT IS DEAD. IT IS STYLISED NAIEVETY.
CLEVER DUMB. IT IS NOT KNOWING WHAT IT IS TIL ALL THE AIMLESS THINGS MAKE
UP THE WORKING SUM. SOMETIMES IT IS A SNOWFLAKE. AND ITS MEANING LASTS
A MOMENT. BUT WE REMEMBER THE EXPERIENCE OF HAVING IT.

1970's Coaster

Frameless Canvas

NEW WORD PAINTING. HAVING TO SAY IT IS SMUDGES IT. TODAY I'M PAINTINGWORDS
OF TURQUOISE SEAS IN SKIES AND GREYCLOUDS IN SEA. EVERYTHING REFLECTS JUST THE OPPOSITE.

WAVES MONOCHROMED ARE PALEING. DARKENING. THAT'S THE ALTERING SYMPHONY.

THIS CANVAS NEEDS NO FRAME. MOST UNLIKE THE AIR. THE SEA.

I'M FREE TO SHOW MY WORK TO SEAGULL-CRTICISM OR HAVE IT WOUND UP SAFELY
IN A SHELL. 

Half-Smile Thru Darkness

Diary Entry

NON-MINIMAL FUSS

WHEN WORDS BECOME DRAWINGS WE ARE PAINTING IN NO COLORS AT ALL.

I WANT TO DESCRIBE AND SO ASCRIBE COLORS WITHOUT DISTURBING THE PALLETTE.

I WISH FOR THE CANVAS TO BE PEOPLE'S IMAGINATIONS. THE PAINT BRUSH TO BE THE TITLE SUGGESTED. LET THIS ONE BE 'THE CONSTRUCTION OF INSTRUCTION
USING AN OVERUSED VIOLIN'. I MYSELF SEE IT AS MEANING SADNESS TEACHING
US WHEN TO BE HAPPY.

THIS IS THE FINISHING TOUCH TO THIS PAINTING OF WORDS, A FULL STOP.

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