Friday, September 01, 2006

Fenestration - desperation


Inconceivable. Ha, by using this large word, I have cunningly shifted the text so it starts below the images rather than dribbling down the side of the left picture. No doubt there is some logical way of avoiding this happening, I just don't know what it is. Anyway, it's a great word immortalised by a great film, and should get an airing a lot more often.

The opening of the Bartlett Gallery in Bethnal Green was the culmination of many years of toil, hardship and borderline psychosis on the part of Tortured Artist. I wish him and his merry band every success for the future. Of course, now that he's got everything he's always wanted as an artist - giant studio, own personal gallery space, like minded artistes to supply objective yet deeply constructive criticism and advice - he now says it's all too late and his artistic ability has utterly deserted him. I removed the last of the beer bottles from his fevered grasp before he hurled it viciously to the ground to join its shattered brethren, then gently broke the half -nelson he had me in, before it broke my neck. I was then about to offer all manner of soothing words and assurances of his genius, when I realised he was listening to Bruce Springsteen. This made it abundantly clear he was beyond hope. I went back up stairs to the rooftop to listen to some fiendish imp mash up an old moog in tandem with his Apple mac. Now that's an art.

B

2 comments:

Beau Vecta said...

You have a way with bottles and fevered grasps.

Billsworth Esq. said...

It happens with alarming regularity.

B