'Piles of books everywhere!', exclaims LJ before proceeding to point at every one of them, saying 'Pile here' (on one of the Wharfedale speakers), 'Pile here' (on the unit built to house CDs and the records player), 'Pile here!' (on the other Wharfedale), 'Here' (on the low improvised shelf under the window). What can I say? I need to build a new shelf, or two...
First find of the day, Deborah Solomon's biog of Joseph Cornell, Utopia Parkway, sit outside the café, open it up and read: 'One suspects it never occurred to Cornell that one day he himself would become the subject of a biography and that someone, somewhere, would perhaps sit down at a table in a coffee-shop and open a book about him.' Well blimey...
(Homeward-bound fantasy about my biography, in which it will be written: 'One suspects it never occurred to Tomens as he sat outside the café reading about Cornell's probable incredulity at being read about outside a café that someone, somewhere, would perhaps sit down outside a café and open a book about him.' Another episode in periodic fantasies about being the subject of a biography, my fame dream, because unless I become that famous my life, when looked back at from the Last Bed, may be considered a failure - huh!)
This was in the cookery section of the charity shop bookshelves which, luckily, was next to the rest of the non-fiction so I spotted the words 'd'art moderne' and found a goodie. Chefs d'oeuvre du Musee d'art moderne de la ville de Paris - that's a mouthful, which may explain why it was in the cookery section, but I doubt it. £4. I had to scan the cover because no images of it exist online, would you believe. Here's a page from the book too. A brilliant painting by Eduardo Arroyo...
Here's a good read, The Consul, an interview with Ralph Rumney, in which he talks about his interesting life travelling all over the world, being in on the Situationist thing, marrying Peggy Guggenheim's daughter (funny story about fake whisky at one of her parties) and all-round wisdom regarding Art. 'In my experience, artists, the practitioners of artism, are the meanest and most anally retentive people I've ever met.' I know what he means. Some art-makers can't bring themselves to be generous in spirit, ie supporting another, because they're insecure or whatever.
Finally, here's a detail from something I made recently...
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