Marvelous Yoga

I have taken up yoga. Iyengar yoga to be exact. Hugo is a teacher of the art and invited me to come along to his class. It was marvelous. I felt so invigorated and yet relaxed afterwards. All my internal organs were sort of 'resettled', muscles unkinked and tensions dissolved. I tried to do a hand stand like the others in the class but Hugo came rushing over and cautioned me that I was not ready for advanced postures yet. Just as well really, I was getting into a bit of a tangle and in danger of toppling into the man next to me. Embarrassingly there was a little 'eruption' on my part during the Downward Dog pose (the unfortunate result of a too heavy lunch involving chickpea salad). Hugo exclaimed 'Better out than in' in his hearty voice. My fellow practitioners were all very discrete about it.
The other students were somewhat serious and rather territorial about their particular spot in the room. Obviously one has to persist to 'earn one's place'.
Hugo also mentioned that his mysterious Patron has suggested another Soiree event and has invited Xavier and myself to collaborate on an artwork. Now I am thrilled and honoured to take part but I must confess, a little apprehensive about working with Xavier. He is extremely enthusiastic and we are meeting for lunch to discuss ideas and aesthetic directions. Fascinating as I find his current obsession with all things nautical I do hope he will not fixate on it exclusively. I fear he may as his parting remark was
'You may now address me as Admiral Xavier when we meet. Just wait till you see my hat'.
What's next? Medals?

The Plate

Xavier and Ariadne went to the markets yesterday (I must confess I wished I could have gone too but I am still trying to curb my acquisitive tendencies). I agreed to dog-sit Matilda. They arrived quite late in the day when some stall holders were packing up and others were reducing prices. The general feeling was it had been a slow day and there were bargains to be had.
Xavier spotted this gloriously, exuberantly, vulgar (I am pea green with envy) plate. Ariadne loved it on sight. Now Xavier is still in 'maritime' mode so when they approached the stall holder he said
'I would like to ask the price of this plate and when you reply it would be appropriate for you to address me as Captain and give a salute'.
Well you can imagine the stall holder's surprise but I believe the man did as asked, though he was heard to mutter
'So where's your Captain's hat then?'
Xavier being Xavier took exception to his 'tone' and proceeded to give him a tongue lashing.
'I am on shore leave with permission from Poseidon himself, whose Cosmic Greatness I am in the process of revealing to the world' etc.
Ariadne stood by, noncommittal but I assume becoming a little embarrassed, especially as a crowd was collecting. To complicate matters the Peruvian stall holder Xavier had upset a few weeks ago then piped up accusing him of being a trouble maker. Ariadne calmed the waters by saying,
'This man may appear a little odd, I know, but you must understand he is a creative soul and if we can simply pay for our plate we will trouble you no further.'
'I'm not sure I want to sell it to you' replies the stall holder.
Xavier, totally uncharacteristically, then said
'Sir. I apologise if I seemed abrupt before. Please allow me to purchase this lovely plate, which I may say only reflects the high quality of goods on your delightfully appointed stall, so that I may present it to my lady friend who you might agree is a most lovely and elegant person.'
Well the stall holder was now a little taken aback and mumbled
'All right then', was paid, hands were shaken, smiles blossomed as the plate was handed over. Ariadne and Xavier left, beaming, arm in arm and related the whole to Matilda and I over iced chocolates and dried cherries.
Xavier has commissioned Norma-Jean to make him a Captain's Hat.

Xavier as Poseidon

Xavier's self portrait as King of the Sea. He has not let me see any other work in his 'maritime series', as he calls it. I had a friendly chat with Ariadne who has confessed some dismay about it. She knocked on Xavier's door the other day and though she could hear muffled noises of splashing (and she thought, bizarrely, the sound of a submarine ping), she received no answer. What's more, there was a very fishy smell emanating from under the door (which made her dog, Matilda, bark) and there was sea weed in the hallway! Xavier is now insisting on being called 'Captain Nemo', and saluted whenever one encounters him. I, of course, am used to such antics on Xavier's part, but they will certainly test his relationship with Ariadne. Luckily she is used to peculiar folk and so perhaps more forgiving of his foibles. I do hope so.

By the Sea, by the Sea, by the Beautiful Sea

Xavier and I made it to the seadside. He doesn't like this photo as he says it makes him look wiry...
We took a picnic of avocado and cheese sandwiches and a thermos of nice strong, sweet tea and chocolate biscuits. Food always tastes so good on a picnic. Xavier was a little like a dog nosing about for the 'inspiration' Norma-Jean had foreseen. I told him he should relax and let inspiration come to him as there was no surer way to drive it back than by chasing it. We even got in some practice making friends with dogs (I am still coaching Xavier as he continues to have trouble with Matilda, his girlfriend's Jack Russell). In the afternoon the weather closed in and we were preparing to leave when I heard Xavier exclaim. He was jumping up and down on the spot and pointing out to sea. There was a bluey-grey-purple thunderhead blowing towards us from the horizon. I do love a storm over the sea. And there in the forefront was a sinuous waterspout snaking up to the sky. It was magnificent. It didn't last long and we failed to get a good picture of it but Xavier was absolutely thrilled. 'Poseidon, Poseidon has spoken!' he exclaimed. I gather this vision has set him off on a water and mythology themed burst of work. When I called him the next day I could hear the unmistakable sounds of whale song in the background. 'Can't talk, can't talk' said he and hung up on me!

Musings on Rubbish

I have found myself musing on the nature of rubbish. I mean what is rubbish? The detritus left in the wake of human living perhaps? In the course of my collecting as I last posted, I have been picking up little pieces of rusted metal, glass and plastic. And these objects or fragments have an undeniable aesthetic appeal, a creative collagistic, anthropomorphic, zoomorphic potential. Would you class it then as higher order rubbish? Because there is no way I am going to start picking up really nasty things with food smearings, used tissues, cigarette butts, condoms and so on. One could form an exhaustive list of the disgusting. But the unaesthetic should get a mention here too. I mean a charmingly rusted bolt, now that's a good find, but an old yoghurt tub? I think not. So in fact I am a rubbish snob. A trash aesthete. A garbage elitist. A connoisseur of the gutter. Therein lies the dilemma. Because as I mentioned before there is just no way I am picking up the nasty stuff, yet if artists using found objects seek to make a statement about the society we live in through its detritus, then surely the picture is incomplete without it.

I Keep Collecting

What with all the social distractions of late you might imagine I had quite given up collecting. Not so. I am studiously examining the ground, apt to reach down at abrupt moments, collecting strange looks from passersby. Well here is a sample of my pieces. I seem to be predisposed to weathered plastic, rusted metal and worn glass. I felt I had somewhat forced the issue with my assemblage pieces previously. I am now relaxed into the collecting and seeing where it leads me...

Ariadne as Flora

Xavier's drawing of Ariadne as Flora the Goddess of Spring. We had quite a drama yesterday. Xavier arrived at my door at 2.30 in the morning. I bustled him inside as he was making quite a ruckus, causing dogs to bark, babies to wake and neighbours to protest vociferously. Well of course he is quite smitten with Ariadne but too nervous to call her and ask her out. "But she quite clearly liked you too" I say. "Yes yes but its Matilda you see" replies Xavier, "If Matilda doesn't like me too then Ariadne will give me up" and so forth. So I have agreed to help Xavier get along with Matilda as she seems to quite like me.

The Masked Ball

Myself, Norma Jean, Hugo the Strongman, Ariadne, Xavier and Matilda flying over the moon.


Myself, resplendent on the way to the Ball.

Well. Xavier came over to my place and we got ready together. He was very nervous (he gets that way before social events). I took Ariadne at her word (the more the merrier) and invited Norma Jean to come along to the Ball too when I picked up my outfit on Friday. So, masked and dressed, Xavier and I set off into a magical evening to collect Norma Jean.
We rang on the door bell and waited a few minutes, the door swung open and this vision stepped out to greet us. It turns out that as well as hair replacement specialist, stylist and psychic, Norma Jean is also a Marilyn Monroe impersonator. She gave Xavier and I quite a start. She is a mysterious person that Norma Jean.

So the three of us climbed into a very well kept taxi and were driven by a taciturn fellow (called Charon would you believe!) to the venue. A beautiful moon rose in the sky and there was a lightness in the air. We arrived at a field overlooking water and a marquee, lit from within, a great blue and yellow beacon in the night.

We entered to live swing music, the dancing had already begun (they are not shy these circus folk), the aroma of incense, the warm light from a hundred red lanterns. There were costumes of gold, silver and every colour, feathers, eyes outlined with the darkest kohl, a fire eater performing in the corner, a table spread with divine nibblies and all topped with a cornucopia of fruits, pomegranate, watermelon, peaches, cherries, pears of every colour, chocolate covered strawberries. As we arrived a great pop resonated and a tower of glasses were filled with champagne flowing like a great waterfall. This spectacle being enacted by Hugo the Strongman, an ebullient fellow who was pouring the champagne with one hand, holding up a bar bell with the other and belting out the showtune "Shall we Dance parum pum pum, on a bright cloud of music shall we fly parum pum pum..."

Ariadne came bustling over, beaming, and introductions were made all round. She and Xavier hit it off immediately. She was oblivious to his social discomfort, seized him by the hand and pulled him off to dance as Matilda capered about their feet.
Hugo, having finished his rendition, took Norma Jean and I around the marquee to look at all the little performances people were giving, ranging from silent poetry reading, indoor hang-gliding and chair balancing to colour manifestation and a butterfly ballet. It was fascinating and Hugo complimented me by suggesting I make some kind of art performance next time, to which I heartily agreed.
Hugo also explained these marvelous events are subsidized by a generous but anonymous patron, hence the lavish and almost overwhelming largesse of the whole affair.

We danced, we sang, we wet our feet in the moonlit water, we whirled and capered and ate and sipped our champagne and laughed our heads off. It was a splendid splendid splendid night and I am so very glad I stopped to speak to Ariadne all that time ago on my morning walk. I think Xavier is even more glad than I and I could barely get three words out of him on the way home. He stared dreamily out of the taxi window and wafted into his abode with barely a good night!

Xavier and the blank canvas

Here is my portrait of Xavier about to launch into another painting. He has thrown off the fugue that plagued him these last few days. "I laugh in the face of despair" he claims. Well let's see, it is always a roller coaster with him. But I'm pleased he is on the upsurge again, full of energy for work. I think Norma-Jean's reading really cheered him up. We haven't yet made it to the sea side, attention being focused on preparations for Saturday's ball. Ariadne cheerfully said "the more the merrier" when I asked her if Xavier could come along on Saturday night. I think she is quite interested to meet him. She has been intrigued by my tales of impetuousness and general creative broo haha.

Fruits of the Sea

I went to Norma-Jean's salon today for a fitting of my new jacket. Xavier came along with me. I am very happy with how it is coming along. Xavier says he will make me a new mask to match the colours in the jacket which is really very kind of him. I think I will ask Ariadne if Xavier can come along to the Ball on Saturday as he has been a bit down and I feel partly responsible, confronting him about his work as I did the other day. Norma-Jean picked up on his mood too (well, Xavier's moods are rather transparent and he was looking disconsolately and rather unsettlingly at her goldfish) and offered to do a reading for him. Well this perked him up
"YES" he cried "Guidance from the Ether! A Sign from the Cosmos" He was all attention as Norma-Jean lit the candle, drew the curtains and settled herself before the great tome, The Constance Spry Cookery Book. As Norma-Jean entered the trance state Xavier's eyes grew as round as dinner plates. Her finger descended as before, spearing the page like a trident.
"Pilaff Aux Fruits De Mer" she intoned. Xavier craned forward to see. She had pointed to a delicious sounding dish incorporating white wine, shallots, prawns and mushrooms with rice.
"The sea" Norma-Jean said "You must seek refreshment by the sea"
"Yes, yes, yes" replied Xavier, a new light in his eyes. "The sea, the sea. I will take my inspiration from the sea". Of course his reading related to the block he has been experiencing with his work (when is it ever about anything else with Xavier?). We left there in good spirits planning a visit to Xavier's favourite beach. "It is the first beach along the coast from the city which retains the wild spirit" he says. I will see if I can find some more pieces to add to my collection.

The Man behind the Mask

I am Pyramus in search of my Thisbe. Ariadne has invited me to a masked ball. Xavier has made this mask for me and I have Norma-Jean sewing me a jacket for which I found six delightful yellow buttons. The weather has turned fine and I am glad of it though I generally love the rain. The ball takes place this Saturday and I am very pleased to be going. I think there will be a lot of Ariadne's circus friends there. She has a friend called Hugo, a strongman, who she says may be able to teach me ventriloquism. Yesterday I ate turnips.

Eggplant Sambal the cure-all

As you see I am still wearing my Picasso shirt. Xavier and I had a huge fight this weekend. He was infuriated with me because I questioned his artistic sincerity. Now we know he is something of a pugilist and he got a little feisty with me. It all happened after I saw his latest painting. I wondered (perhaps I should have kept it to myself its true), whether he was painting for some imaginary audience, to try and appease some need he has for acceptance, or if he was painting from his true feeling and thought. Well! As I say he got a little fiesty to say the least. "ME!?!" he yelled "How dare you question ME?!" Whereupon he grew very red in the face, threw a book he was holding (I believe it was The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Motorcycles) to the floor (inadvertently hitting my little toe) and stalking about the room expostulating and ranting about the struggle he goes through every time he puts hand to brush etc etc. Well I'd had just about enough I can tell you and I said so. "Yes Xavier I do question. I do wonder. I see you stuck in a relativist quagmire trying to please everyone and pleasing no one least of all yourself. Take a position. You are allowed to be your own absolute truth when it comes to art. Stop toadying to everyone in your head." I was quite proud of myself, Xavier in a mood is quite intimidating. He looked aghast. He was quite ashen and pushed me out of the door without another word. I felt bad about it later. Poor Xavier. He tries so hard and is so eternally frustrated. We did not speak for some days and then he called. He did not make reference to our contre temps and we went out for lunch to a favourite haunt. Eggplant sambal smoothed the way for reconciliation though we kept off the subject of art for safetys sake.

Fingerprint of the Master
Xavier's third portrait of me. He came along today to meet my grooming specialist and hair replacement technician Norma-Jean. She gave me a manicure after which Xavier insisted on setting up this portrait. He sees it as his homage to the great Master. He kept lamenting that he was not born into the Modernist era. 'I would have been such a great modernist, instead I am obliged to be a crappy postmodernist. I am a modernist out of time!' etc, you get the picture.
To avoid another tearful scene I described my morning tea yesterday with Ariadne and her performing Jack Russell Matilda. I took them to my favourite Spanish cafe and we had Tapas, which Matilda received most graciously sitting up on hind legs and begging with her little paws. She wore a faux leopard skin collar and Ariadne had a jacket and beret to match. We were quite the trio I can tell you.