There is this living, seething, self-aggrandising insinuation which ALL artists do tend to LIVE with and at PURE and FAST-PACED, beatnik industry- they take the canvas that ACTUALLY CANNOT and, honestly put?
They BREAK ITS BACK INTO… A MILLION breathless PIECES until: suddenly, oh, MOST majestically, it appears attired AND in brand new, one of a KIND design.
As quick and as SPIFFING to see as the Emperor’s New Clothes, if we might like to be so VERY instrumentally quick-thinking as THAT and in THIS particular AND PECULIAR
Instance. “Insanely suggestive, indeed, and BoRn iconoclastic and everlasting IS his f**ksake freedom” — does he feel it, though?!
T – nose-to-nose with the Devil’s conscientious breath,
G down the nape of his neck. Repeat, REPEAT… “r-e-s-p-e-c-t, please.”