Solstice Red.
Acrylic/pencil on canvas 60cm x 60cm 
Violet Hill. 60cm x 60cm. Acrylic/pencil on canvas 2018
Below are some of the artists and creative people I have written about in my book ‘The Bullet Point Book of Margate Coast Art’. These people have either lived, worked or have a connection with Margate, and the near-by towns along the coast. As I say in the book, this is a first edition, and would like to populate it with more people and places for the 2nd, that make the Margate area so creative and special, let me know! bulletpointbooks@zoho.com
Sir Edward Heath
Magnet Magazine written by ‘Charles Hamilton’
Beatles at the Winter Gardens Margate
Sir Edward Heath from Broadstairs.
John Betjeman, Candida, her brother Paul, mother Penelope Betjeman, dog is called Peter Pudding. taken around 1948 at Farnborough
The Arlington building near Margate station
Charles Hamilton
The Candida Stevens Gallery Chichester
I shall add this wonderful Gallery in 12 Northgate
Chichester, to the next edition to my Bullet Point Book of Chichester Art.
A wearable acknowledgement to the Goddess of dance.
Personal response to Pina
Personal response to Pina
Personal response to Pina
At last I have found an outlet for my obsession for the lyrics of Jackson Browne in the only way I know – for now…Chairs!
The words had all been spoken
No matter where I am…
Jackson Browne words
Words and music: Lou Reed & John Cale
It was a very cold clear fall night
I had a terrible dream
Billy Name and Brigid
were playing under my stair case on the second floor about two o’clock in the morning
I woke up because Amos and Archie had started barking
That made me very angry because I wasn’t feeling well and I told them I was very cross the real me that they just better remember what happened to Sam the bad cat that was left at home and got sick and went pussy heaven
It was a very cold clear fall night
Some snowflakes were falling
Gee, it was so beautiful
and so I went to get my camera to take some pictures
And then I was taking the pictures
but the exposure thing wasn’t right
and I was going to call Fred
or Gerry
to find out how to get set it
I was too late
and then I remembered they were still probably at dinner
and anyway
I felt really bad and didn’t want to talk to anybody
but the snowflakes were so beautiful and real looking
and I really wanted to hold them
And that’s when I heard the voices
from down the hall near the stairs
So I got a flashlight
and I was scared and I went out into the hallway
There’s been all kinds of troubles
lately in the neighborhood
and someone’s got to bring home the bacon and anyway
there were Brigid and Billy playing
And under the stair case
was a little meadow sort of like the park at 23rd street
where all the young kids go and play frisbee
Gee, that must be fun
maybe we should do an article on that in the magazine
but they’ll just tell me I’m stupid and it won’t sell
but I’ll just hold my ground this time, I mean
it’s my magazine, isn’t it?
So I was thinking that as the snowflakes fell
and I heard those voices having so much fun
Gee, it would be so great to have some fun
So I called Billy
but either he didn’t hear me or he didn’t want to answer
which was so strange
because
even if I don’t like reunions I’ve always loved Billy
I’m so glad he’s working
I mean it’s different than Ondine
He keeps touring with those movies
and he doesn’t even pay us and the film
I mean the film’s just going to disintegrate and then what
I mean he’s so normal off of drugs
I just don’t get it
And then I saw John Cale
he’s been looking really great
He’s been coming by the office to exercise with me
Ronnie said I have a muscle
but he’s been really mean since he went to AA
I mean what does it mean
when you give up drinking and then you’re still so mean
He says I’m being lazy but I’m not
I’m just can’t find any ideas
I mean I’m just not
let’s face it
going to get any ideas up at the office
And seeing John made me think of the Velvets
and I had been thinking about them
when I was on St. Marks Place
going to that new gallery those sweet new kids have opened
but the thought I was old
and then I saw the old DOM
the old club where we did our first shows
It was so great
And I don’t understand about that Velvet’s first album
I mean I did the cover
I was the producer
and I always see it repackaged
and I’ve never gotten a penny from it
How could that be
I should call Henry
but it was good seeing John
I did a cover for him
but I did in black and white and he change it to color
It would have been worth more if he’d left it my way
but you can never tell any body anything I’ve leaned that
I tried calling again to Billy and John
they wouldn’t recognize me it was like I wasn’t there
Why won’t they let me in
And then I saw Lou
I’m so mad at him
Lou Reed got married and didn’t invite me
I mean is it because he thought I’d bring too many people
I don’t get it
could have at least called
I mean he’s doing so great
Why doesn’t he call me?
I saw him at the MTV show
and he was one row away and he didn’t even say hello
I don’t get it
You know I hate Lou
I really do
He won’t even hire us for his videos
And I was proud of him
I was so scared today
There was blood leaking thought my shirt
from those old scars from being shot
And the corset I wear to keep my insides in was hurting
And I did three sets of fifteen pushups
and four sets of ten setups
But then my insides hurt
and I saw drops of blood on my shirt and I remember
the doctors saying I was dead
And then later they had to take blood out of my hand
‘couse they ran out or veins
but then
all this thinking was making me an old grouch
and you can’t do anything anyway so
if they wouldn’t let me play with them in my own dream
I was just going to have to make another
and another
and another
Gee, wouldn’t it be funny if I died in this dream
before I could make another one up
And nobody called
And nobody came Continue reading
Words and music: Lou Reed & John Cale
Train entering the city – I lost myself and never come back
Took a trip around the world and never came back
Black silhouettes, crisscrossed tracks never came back
Forever changed, forever changed
You might think I’m frivolous, uncaring and cold
You might think I’m frivolous – depends on your point of view
Society Andy who paints and records them – the high and the low
I left my all life behind me and never went back
Forever changed, forever changed
Got to get to the city – get a job
Got to get some work to see me through
My old life’s disappearing from view
Hong Kong – and I was changed
Burma and India – and I was changed
Only art to see me through
Only heart to see me through
My old life disappearing from my view
Brigid and Pat
– please see me through
The whole thing quickly receding
My life disappearing – disappearing from view
Forever changed, forever changed
I left my old life behind and was forever changed
Forever changed
Hello It’s Me
Words and music: Lou Reed & John Cale
Andy it’s me, haven’t seen you in a while
I wished I talked to you more when you were alive
I thought you were self-assured when you acted shy
Hello it’s me
I really miss you, I really miss your mind
I haven’t heard ideas like that in such a long, long time
I loved to watch you draw and and watch you paint
But when I saw you last I turned away
When Billy Name was sick and locked up in his room
You asked me for some speed, I though it was for you
I’m sorry that I doubted your good heart
Things always seem to end before they start
Hello it’s me, that was a great gallery show
Your cow wallpaper and your floating silver pillows
I wish I paid more attention when they laughed at you
Hello it’s me
“Pop goes pop artist,” the headline said
“Is shooting a put-on, is Warhol really dead?”
You get less time for stealing a car
I remember thinking as I heard my own record in a bar
They really hated you, now all that’s changed
But I have some resentments that can never be unmade
You hit me where it hurt I didn’t laugh
Your Diaries are not a worthy epitaph
Oh well now Andy – guess we’ve got to go
I hope some way somehow you like this little show
I know it’s late in coming but it’s the only way I know
Hello it’s me – goodnight Andy…
Goodbye, Andy
It wasn’t until a friend showed me a picture of Martha Graham in Lamentation – I guess in 1990 that I started to
look at dance in a different way. I had really got into dance in the mid 80’s when there seemed to be a massive explosion of energy and with a proliferation of
contemporary dance companies. Rombert, Michael Clarke
(who had studied Cunningham) and due to a friends’ connection, an introduction to the work of DV8.
The Place was going strong in London and the work was fresh and exciting with a great venue and the BIG tee-shirts. However, looking back on all that energy, the piece I remember most at The Place involved a guy in a smart suit who suddenly slowed right down from a fast pace to a stop, then slowly walked a line.
It was the most moving thing I had ever seen in dance, and for the life of me I can’t remember what piece it was from. Yet much later when I saw Graham wrapped in Lamentation that I got the same feeling that ‘wow’ feeling.
During my degree I wrote about and deconstructed Grahams’ Lamentation until it lay like the cogs and coils of a cuckoo clock spread out on a table – but that’s all it was. Of course you can’t find ‘it’ – it’s not there on the table, only existing in those watching. That inescapable grieving is in us all, and Graham formed an object for us to project our own pain. That’s the great thing about Graham, she lets you connect and compose the structure then create your own inner picture.
Along with friends Annie and Josie, we tried to emulate Grahams’ Lamination ‘struggle’ during a choreography module. Even with being filmed contained in a claustrophobic box with the dense music of Ravel’s Gaspard de la nuit, the best we could say about the work was that it was a heart-felt, well-meant homage, but came nowhere near to matching the emotion of the piece. Perhaps that’s the point, you can’t make ‘it’, only construct a composition of cogs and wheels and hope it shows the time to yourself or others, let alone make the birds sing.
I didn’t think anything could beat Lamination but I have to go for Appalachian Spring. It would be easy to say they are completely different, and ostensibly they are, yet contain that same mercurial ‘thing’. Love, loss, grief, they all come from the same place, and exist in the swaying tides of emotion of self. That place is an untouchable alchemy, a depth of feeling that Graham can convey so well. I carry that feeling me, and can still sense that togetherness of the bride and groom. For me it is the whole thing; the set, (which always reminds me of the court scene in the Crucible,) Coplands’ music, the costumes, choreography, the dancers, Cunningham, that strange light – and last but not least Graham. Like many things,
I didn’t know what I wanted until I found it, yet Lamentation and Appalachian Spring go a long way to giving form to something beyond words. With that I shall shut up, and apologise for the quality of some the photos.
Again I photographed off a videos, leaving the film running as I shot to get the movement, and the images I wanted and couldn’t find.