#430 "Exciting Perfumes by MEM"

I still think advertising is
imbecile work, useful
for the artist as an activity
to help in putting food on
the table or pay the rent. That
attitude somewhat softened
since the war, getting back
into painting, but now with
only limited options for dis-
play. Pessoa once said to me:
the unnatural & the strange have
a perfume of their own. I've mixed
& matched. The unnatural &
strange have always been with
me. Now I've added someone
else's chic perfume; & so, in
magazines & tous les grands
magasins, posters & full-page
liftouts have returned my
name, my output, back into
the discerning public's eye.

#429 Great Journeys

A naked woman plunges
headless into the edges
of the forest, bringing the
already built blocks of a
small city along with her.

This is how civilizations
are sometimes founded —
almost as easily as one of
those videos games, but
with much more panache.

#428 Wreckage of The Shadow

The bird without feathers is
a mountain in the Pyrenees.

An angular snow shoe for
walking through the dust
of diamonds holds feathers
that do not hold a bird.

Another mountain holds a
cave. (In another painting
we are inside it, waiting
for the bird to look away.)

Wooden parrakeets morph
into prototype string instru-
ments. Bricolage becomes
a bits & pieces bird whose

disproportionate tailfeathers
take on the conductor's rôle.

The sea hovers above the sky.

#427 La Sortie de l'École

You go to a friend's house. Their call center’s average call handle times are way past your bedtime. You want to eat pasta. Why are humans so drawn to these foods? Do they help pay the utility bills? Fraudsters call Santa Clara residents asking for help tracking a fraudster. They offer six steps to get your money back by identi- fying emerging patterns. Again it makes you want to eat pasta. You go back to your friend's house & wait in the call center queue. They get round to you eventually, tell you to immediately quit school.

In the double context of a sharp decline in the vocations and of an interrogation as to their identity connected with the aggiornamento of the Congregation, the sisters of Ribeauvillé in their majority left teaching, not by force as in Congo-Brazzaville, but through retirement. Though some of them, in the scope of the institution, chose to undertake new activities and to live within pluralist communities. — Luc Perrin

#426 The Desert Catapault

The shadow of Giorgio de
Chirico arrives outside
the railway station even
though it isn't one. Else-

when, clouds exit from
the tunnel, & a wooden
mannequin has a pepper
shaker shot into their eye.

#425 He Is Not Speaking

How do we interpret
this? That the woman
controls the man &,
no matter who is act-
ually speaking, it
is the woman's voice
that predominates? Or is
it an acknowledgement
that people are fluid
beings, polyhedronic, &
that sometimes hiding
behind the mask that
faces the street is one or
several of the genders
we are made up of?

#424 The Prince of Objects

Static or dynamic — the ontology
of most games depends upon

a division between the objects
in play. If one is lucky, the dynamic

can occasionally be seen through
gaps in the static, not that we always

recognize what we see. The dance
is different in every decade. So, too,

the music. Once there was tea for
two. All died when u went away.

#423 The Female Thief

is a conundrum that is sometimes found in jars of honey.

finds that creativity, rather than spirituality, is more efficacious at keeping loneliness away.

recently completed the translation into Farsi of many exemplar sentences that all contain the words "recently completed. "

has been given the green light to explore & develop gas on 164 sq km of land with high potential.

has accumulated five annual depreciation charges, reducing the book value of her lock-picking tools.

is beholden to the glass ceiling for damping down any public opinion that a female could be a highly competent criminal.

used the Rugby World Cup to break down barriers to the gospel in sports-mad Japan in a way that has left local pastors amazed.

continues to break down barriers by showing how ethical clothing can hold its own on high-end catwalks.

relaxes by playing along on drums to tracks by Charles Mingus or Thelonius Monk or any other dead jazz musician who can't complain when she occasionally loses the beat.

sometimes wishes she were male, like Fantômas, so that — despite her reservations about exposure — she could be well-known enough for René Magritte to want to paint her.

#422 Une simple histoire d'amour

All she left him when the
relationship ended was a

chair. Decorated with a lion's
tale to remind him how

boastfully he had entered. Of
such small size that it was only

the humiliation of dismissal
that meant it fit him at the end.

#421 from Aube à l'antipode

                                On the other side of the
                             globe an hourglass over-
                                      turns. There is no
                       breakage. Even so, things start
                             shutting down. Dusk arrives. 
                                  Here, the stage is empty
                                   until Lionel Ritchie appears.
                            He breaks into song. Sings
                                          All night long. In the un-
                             seen audience we see a man's 
                               face fracture as if it were
                                        a mirror. Dawn breaks. 

#420 La Bonne Fortune

& in the supermarket I
buy a pack of pickled
pigs' ears for the alligator.
He doesn't eat them —
dietary or religion I'm
not sure which — but it
carries a simple message.
Stay in line or watch out!

& for the pig I buy a faux
alligator-hide handbag.
She's a lovely animal, &
will appreciate the gift;
but, once again, the mess-
age is aimed at the 'gator.
Step out of line, & the
next one won't be fake!

I go to lunch; the sniping
starts again behind me.
Pig in a poke, I hear from
the pool. Gator so full of
sugar it sold out for that
added aid comes grunting
from the pen. I can't be
bothered quietening them.