The Power of H: illlustration

Thursday, April 18, 2019

Lost souls. Orange hair. Everyone believes we are on the ledge. Of something. I turned 70 and my wife flipped some pancakes. Somewhere between joy and anxiety. I don't know how Trump survives himself. Why are some of us worried about the future and others want to trade hockey cards. These poems are snap shots. On the old Kodak. A black box with a shutter where we used to hide our memories. Now they are splashed all over the known universe. I feel like Soren Kierkegaard walking down the street while children taunt him. Except my taunts come from myself. I want to know why we are here. And not.

Thursday, March 28, 2019

Like a Brueghel painting. Time turns on itself. Events are repeated and altered. Characters both dead and imaginary appear. At the core of the story is an exhibition of paintings. The paintings tell the story of the moments before, after, and surrounding the events in Dealey Plaza, on November 11, 1963. The assassination of John Kennedy. And amongst the crowd that packs the exhibition at the Zig |Zag bar is a serial murderer.
“I think you should have included those other pieces.” Sharmaine sipped her coffee.
“The assassination shots?”
Sharmaine nodded.
Willy shook his head.
“Jack said that they were too gruesome for his bar. He didn’t want his customers retching. The image of Kennedy’s brain’s splattered across Mrs. Kennedy’s face doesn’t run up the food bill. And the other one of Mrs. Kennedy trying to escape by crawling out over the trunk of the limousine. People still have to drive home. The third one, the autopsy of Kennedy was my favourite. I love the image of those doctors looking like Supreme Court judges dipping their fingers into the President’s head like it was a box of donuts.

download
THE EXHIBITION