Monday, 2 December 2019

Sunday, 10 November 2019

I IS BLACK | I IS BLOCKED...

I am angry..

Bunch of CUNTS..I am angry.

You treat me BLACK and now I know...

I AM ANGRY..


CUNTS THE LOT OF YOU!


I see now what it is to be BLACK...

An Outcast; a dirty fucking Nigger!

Ironically, "Censored, Silenced and Blocked by Social Media".

I am a product of my time, allow me to speak freely.

Who am I...but a nobody? Yet here I am.

Denied, offended and blocked at every stage...

Don't joke with me you fucking cunts...


No you disrespectful sell-outs, the lot of you...

Disgraced for showing primitive natural talent...

Groomed is what you want...the natural "Conformist"...


CUNTS!


How qualified are you to talk about African Art?

You posing rasta, chocolate, drops...You darkie, nobodies!

How QUALIFIED are you....Blackie....African-man?

How African are you?

Most are white and those black have convenient forgotten-pasts.

Don't make me say more because I may explode..

like a dirty terrorist but with good reason on my anger.

For so many generations denied, the goodness so obvious.

My heart bleeds for the talent lost because of colour hatred.

What a fucking waste.  |  'Water' load of CUNTS!!!

Don't press the button..it is red hot to go off..already!


"WATER" LOUD-OF.....(YOU KNOW...WATER!!!)

YOU PAID YOUR TICKETS TO BE ARTISTS...

WITH ARTISTIC DEGREES AND PhD'S AND FOOLISHNESS

WITH ROYAL ACADEMY CURATOR-SHIPS AND THE LIKE.

I HAVE NO RESPECT FOR THOSE THAT SAIL OUT...

YOU HAVE NO PLACE IN MY HEART, THAT IS AFRICA.

BRING ON THE AFRICANS..THE TRUE ARTISTS OF NOW!

BRING ON TOMORROW, TODAY.



For those that have bought their tickets via Western Establishments and Institutions...

HOW ON EARTH DO YOU REPRESENT AFRICA???????????

"WATER" Bunch of....!!!!

In an age where women can be men and men can be women.
It seems so strange than nobody wants to be African but me.



Poem by Joe Pollitt

Friday, 1 November 2019

NIGERIANS VALUE THEIR CULTURE

BEN ENWONWU | CHRISTINE
BEN ENWONWU | CHRISTINE
BEN ENWONWU | CHRISTINE

BEN ENWONWU | CHRISTINE

Estimate: 100,000 - 150,000 GBP
Lot Sold: 1,095,000GBP

Lot Details



Description

BEN ENWONWU
Nigerian
1921-1994
CHRISTINE

signed and dated 1971 (lower left)
oil on canvas
76.3 by 61cm., 30 by 24in.

Condition Report

Cataloguing



Provenance

Acquired directly from the artist in 1971
Thence by descent

Exhibited

Lagos, Exhibition Centre, Management Consultant Services Ltd. presents Professor Ben Enwonwu's Paintings and Sculptures, 23 May-6 June 1974, illustrated in the catalogue, cat no. 56A, titled 'Mrs. Christine Davis' 

 

Catalogue Note

Spanning close to 60 years, Ben Enwonwu’s artistic career followed one of the most important periods of Modern Nigerian history; the journey from a British colony to a newly independent African nation. Nigeria gained independence from the United Kingdom on 1 October 1960, and with it the country was in search of a new post-colonial identity. Ben Enwonwu MBE became an advocate for a new Nigerian national culture and a pioneer of African modernism. By his passing in 1994, the artist was, and would continue to be, considered one of the most revered African artists of the 20th century.

Ben Enwonwu was born in 1917 in Onitsha, eastern Nigeria, to a mother who ran a successful textile business and a father who was a retired technical assistant and a reputable sculptor, from whom the artist learned his early carving skills. In addition to being an acclaimed painter and sculptor, the artist was also a distinguished writer and art critic.

Enwonwu studied fine arts at the Umuahia Government College in 1934, before receiving a scholarship to study in the UK in 1944, where he attended Goldsmiths College and the Slade School of Fine Arts. During this time, he studied European art movements such as Symbolism and Fauvism. Ben Enwonwu’s mastery in combining European techniques and traditional Igbo aesthetics is central to his artistic oeuvre. Enwonwu returned to Nigeria in 1948 to begin his federally appointed position of Art Adviser of the Colonial Office. The artist continued his practice in Nigeria and in 1949 was declared by Time magazine as ‘Africa’s Greatest Artist’.

The present lot was painted in 1971, the same year that Enwonwu was appointed the first professor of Fine Art at the University of Ife. Assuming this position in the wake of the Biafran War (1967-1970), Enwonwu sought to expose his students to ideas of national reconstruction and reconciliation and the effect of this tense civil war on Nigeria’s post-colonial cultural identity.

Enwonwu produced some of his most accomplished works in the years directly following the end of the war, including the four known portraits of Adetutu Ademiluyi (known as Tutu), a Yoruba princess from the ancient Kingdom of Ife and this portrait of Christine. Painted just prior to Enwonwu’s famed portraits of the Yoruba princess, Christine is a clear precursor to these works. The present lot bears an especially close resemblance to Enwonwu’s most famed portrait of Tutu, the whereabouts of which are currently unknown. While Enwonwu is well-known as a portraitist, portraits of this high calibre are exceedingly rare.

Christine herself was born in New York, the step-daughter of a renowned Ghanaian lawyer. In her early twenties, she moved back to Ghana to reside with her stepfather before relocating to Lagos, Nigeria in 1969. In Lagos, Christine and her husband Elvis developed a close friendship with the artist. Commissioned as a gift to the sitter, the present lot is a product of the friendship between Ben Enwonwu, Christine and her husband. Known for her elegance and dignified beauty, Christine had the innate ability to stay composed and immobile for as long as the artist required. Enwonwu’s loose brush strokes and vibrant oil captures Christine transient beauty. The portrayal of her long-neck, glowing skin, curved lips and delicate smile are testament of the warmth and grace of the sitter. Her devotion and composure are conveyed in the portrait and is a testament of the trust and complicity between the artist and Christine.

The similarities between Christine and Tutu are striking. Stylistically, the artist employs similar techniques in both works, a mixture of clearly defined and loose brushstrokes. Christine, in the present lot, sits up tall and elegant, there is a subtle emotion conveyed through her gentle Mona Lisa-like smile and a sense of ease in her eyes which emanates to the viewer. Christine and Tutu are bonded, especially in the dignified presentation of both figures, translated through their embodiment of a regal posture and authority of a statesman. This regal and dignified pose is highlighted in both Christine and Tutu, as both sitters share a mesmeric frontal gaze, along with their torsos both positioned in an outward and angular manner, as present in historical Western paintings. There is also backlight present in both Christine and Tutu. In both portraits, the light takes on a luminescent character, emphasizing the unique features of both subjects, chiefly the elongated necks, a feature recognisable in Enwonwu’s work. The light in both works forms a halo, and giving both Christine and Tutu a delicate, yet iridescent and angelic glow.

Christine is said to have had a great appreciation for different cultures which she encountered. Being a stylist, she sought to express herself through the traditional attires of the locals. This is further reinforced in the present lot, where she is depicted wearing a beautifully tied headscarf called ‘gele’, which signifies her married status. Although Christine was not born in Lagos/Nigeria, her attire shows her affinity with the region and a and a deep respect to West African tradition.

-----

AFRICA | CULTURE IS BOUGHT AND PAID FOR | MAKE NO MISTAKE, ART IS POWER!! AFRICAN ART IS NOT ABOUT PORTRAITS OR STILL LIFE BUT STILL, HERE WE ARE? 

THIS NON CONFRONTATIONAL ARTIST, THIS CREATIVE COCONUT IS THE BEST OF NIGERIA? WHAT FOOLISHNESS, WHAT DISHONESTY, WHAT LIES WE SHARE AS WE SLIP UNDER THE UGLY SHEETS OF (S)HELL. 

HOW IS IT THAT NATIONAL TRAITORS CAN BECOME NATIONAL TREASURES? TO LEARN FROM THE OPPRESSORS TO BECOME THE OPPRESSOR. THE FORCES BEHIND THIS UNJUSTIFIED SUCCESSFUL RISE ARE PURE EVIL; SO EXTREMELY WHITE. MONEY TALKS AND BULLSHIT WALKS, EVERYBODY LOVES THE COLOUR OF MONEY ~ GREEN CAN MAKE A HISTORY OF YOUR CHOOSING, SO BUY YOUR WAY IN AND START WRITING....(Mona Lisa; Money Lease-Her more like. Who-bought you? No refunds Mista. No funs here. 'Pay or Go-way' Policy of Sotheby's).

NIGERIANS ARE NO FOOLS, THEY WILL SEE RIGHT THROUGH YOU ALL. THE ELITE CAN HIDE BEHIND FOREIGN AID BUT TIME WILL TELL. LIARS WILL BE EXPOSED AND THE TRUTH WILL OUT IN AN ORAL CULTURE. THE DRUMS ARE BEATING AND THE MASKS ARE TALKING FROM BENIN BRONZES TO COLONIAL CONFORMIST ARTISTS, MAMA WATA???

To be continued...

VALERIE KABOV | COMMITTMENT TO THE MEDIUM

Source: ART AFRICA

In ‘Committed to the Medium,’ Valerie Kabov considers the rise of new painting from Zimbabwe. This article is available in full in the most recent ‘Painting’s Not Dead!’ (13.4) issue of ARTsouthAFRICA, which is the final edition of the magazine you have known and loved for over thirteen years. Look out for Kabov’s article, titled ‘Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Global Art Market’ in the upcoming, inaugural edition of ART AFRICA!

AA STORY Valerie Kabov Committed to the MediumCLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Mavis Tauzeni, Eve’s Diaries Pt 4, 2015. Acrylic on canvas, 180 x 160 cm; Wycliffe Mundopa, Paradise of Vice, 2015. Oil on canvas; Gresham Tapiwa Nyaude, Love Pirates part 1, 2015. Oil on canvas; Wycliffe Mundopa, Myths of Harare (Drowning in air), 2014. Mixed media on canvas, 178 x 235. 5 cm; Gresham Tapiwa, Nyaude Dog’s Life Part 2 & 1, 2015. Oil on canvas, 180 x 210 cm. All images are details. All images courtesy of First Floor Gallery Harare.

At the recent art fairs in Cape Town and Johannesburg this year, there was something almost peculiar in the cornucopia of art offerings from around the continent; the significant presence of Zimbabwean artists on the South African art scene. This presence has extended so much so that Zimbabwean artists Gerald Machona and Kudzanai Chiurai represented South Africa internationally at the recent 56th Venice Biennale. Zimbabwe’s close proximity to South Africa cannot fully explain the prodigious flowering of talent in a country with a population of only fourteen million, whose economic woes have decimated its arts education, resulting in the absence of even a single internationally recognised Fine Art degree programme.

Of particular importance is the emergence of painters from Zimbabwe. Misheck Masamvu has become an established name in South Africa, represented by Blank Projects and presented at art fairs by Goodman Gallery. Artists like Portia Zvavahera, winner of the FNB Joburg Art Fair Prize (2015), and Richard Mudariki have found themselves a permanent home. Given Zimbabwe’s historical art reputation being cemented in stone sculpture practice, the rise of painting is somewhat unusual. While sculpture still delivers some heavy hitters, it is the ‘non–traditional’ and, as some have argued, ‘non-indigenous’ medium of painting that’s creating excitement in local and increasingly international art circles.

The conventional historical view is that the missionaries introduced painting and sculpture in Zimbabwe in the 1930s. Key to this introduction was Canon Paterson, who founded Cyrene Mission School in 1939 in Bulawayo, and Father Groeger, founder of Serima Mission. At both schools, young men were taught painting skills with a view to decorating churches and religious paraphernalia. Canon held the progressive view that given the opportunity African artists could reach the same heights as Europeans. The generation of artists that emerged from the Missions includes painters like Kingsley Sambo, whose works are in the MoMA in New York. In 1957 Frank McEwan, the first Director of the National Gallery of Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) established the studio workshop, sponsored by British American Tobacco, which fostered the stone sculpture practice alongside painting. Still, the medium was not viewed as entirely indigenous.


Zimbabwe’s introduction to contemporary art came after its independence, with Gallery Delta’s Helen Leiros and artists like Berry Bickle and Tapfuma Gutsa seeking and promoting alternative ways of expression. Leiros in particular taught and fostered modern art techniques and mentored artists of the born-free generation, such as Lovemore Kambudzi, Misheck Masamvu, Richard Mudariki, Virginia Chihota and Portia Zvavahera.

While this history is important, it cannot explain the level of talent and quality of art production in Zimbabwe; these are contiguous with and true property of the culture, values and passions of the people and the times they live in. The medium – painting, poetry, sculpture or music – is in many ways a matter of convenience and availability. When conditions change so can the modes of expression. At its core, Zimbabwean culture is characterised by an ability to appraise life philosophically, with a measure of detachment and a big picture view. This culture manifests in many aspects of Zimbabwean tradition, from the immense importance of avoiding conflict and preserving social relationships, to the sophistication and conceptual structuring of Zimbabwean proverbs, monotheistic spirituality and belief in the sacredness of human life. This culture underpins the incredible perseverance and optimism of Zimbabwean people and continues to inform the new generation of painters, arguably even more so than all other artists. It can be said that presently in Harare, the medium of painting reflects the tensions, the complexity and the arduous path of the country better than any other available medium. Painting requires idealism – technical, artistic and personal. While the new generation of sculptors in Zimbabwe has, in many cases, opted for found and discarded objects as a resource, inventing their own medium and the method, the painters in Zimbabwe are required to forge ahead with technical, artistic and personal idealism and sacrifice.

Given the cost and availability issues, it is surprising that anyone takes up painting in Zimbabwe today. When making one painting can cost the same as the artist’s monthly rent, the choice between painting and eating becomes a real one. Capitulating to these economics, art schools such as the National Gallery Visual Art Studio or Harare Polytechnic have resorted to teaching painting with acrylics and in some cases, even poster paints. While some artists opt for print based techniques as an alternative, there is a younger generation of doggedly committed to the medium. Among those leading the charge are three young artists; Wycliffe Mundopa, Mavis Tauzeni and Gresham Tapiwa Nyaude.

Through the works Misheck Masamvu and Portia Zvavahera, audiences have come to associate new Zimbabwean painting with powerful metaphoric figuration and bold gestural statements in preference to finer detail. Although it is hard to speak about a ‘Harare School’ or a movement emerging, this ethos of place also informs the works of their younger colleagues, although each is making their own very distinct thematic imprint.



For Wycliffe Mundopa, the Hegelian dictum that art must be of its time and of its place is a most fitting description. Few artists are more passionately committed to being in Zimbabwe and sharing the pains and the struggles of its people than Mundopa. “This suffering is what makes us,” is his motto and the sentiment pulsates in each of his paintings, which spin like a whirlwind through the underbelly of Harare’s high-density areas and pain-points. His circus-like colours and twisted lines underscore the razor-sharp social commentary on a world where entertainment and poverty are close companions and where everything can be for sale. In his complex compositions, Mundopa displays his depth of historical research and admiration for the Dutch Masters, Rembrandt and Rubens in particular, by making us feel that if they had lived in Harare today, this is exactly what their paintings would look like. Mundopa’s recent show ‘Myths of Harare’ at Commune 1 Gallery (in Cape Town) and the selection of complementary works on paper at Ebony Gallery, (also in Cape Town) was a runaway success, displaying for the first time Mundopa’s prowess in tackling museum-size canvasses. We can only look forward to what happens next for this prodigious talent. 

Mavis Tauzeni produces, in many ways, a counter-balance to Mundopa’s frenetic subversive carnivals. Her canvasses are immersed in the unsettling stillness of introspection and waters that run deep. Deeply personal, Tauzeni’s imagery oscillates between the surreal, futuristic and dreamy. It bears some kinship to the world of Wengechi Mutu, who Tauzeni cites as a role model. Yet despite its surface otherworldliness, Tauzeni’s world is no less of a social commentary, speaking implicitly and explicitly to the difficulties of being a woman – and a woman artist – with an independent and individual journey. While she speaks to the realities of her life in Zimbabwe, the tones and sentiments engendered in her work are immediately empathetic, not only to women but to all of us yearning to break out of convention and social expectation. Tauzeni has already attracted attention for her works on paper, having been acquired by the Fondation Blanchere Collection in 2014, but the artist’s true passion is painting. Tauzeni is ready to emerge as a painter of note, with a new exhibition at First Floor Gallery titled ‘Eve’s Diaries’ and comprising major canvasses.



In stark contrast to Tauzeni and Mundopa is Gresham Tapiwa Nyaude. While no less informed by the drama and trauma of daily life in Harare than Mundopa, Nyaude’s practice is the epitome of the tongue-in-cheek street smarts that characterise the ‘ghetto ethos’of his native Mbare. Visually translating slang and vernacular, Nyaude works in waves to create series of obsessive, thematic paintings, exorcising each subject to exhaustion before subjecting a new victim to his keen wit. His past series include ‘The Midnight Shoppers’ based on the invisible and undocumented night-life of the Mbare ghetto; ‘Native Advertising’,’ which confronts us with how the news and media manipulate perceptions of Africans and particularly Zimbabweans, and how the media themselves are manipulated; as well as ‘Dog’s Life,’ in which dozens of gleaming canines stare down from canvasses, their grimaces simultaneously  accusatory, vindictive, victorious and prevocational, the spectral allegory of the ‘ghetto hustle.’ Nyaude has already garnered international interest, with works from ‘Dog’s Life’ having been shown at SMAC Gallery early in 2015 and ‘Native Advertising’ currently on show at F2 Galeria in Madrid, as part of a3bandas gallery festival in the Spanish capital.


Intellectually on point, emotionally powerful and technically adept, this trio of emerging painters is not to be underestimated. Together and individually, they are also role models for their peers to emulate and given what we know about Zimbabwean art and artists, there’s more to come.

------

JUST SAY NO TO ART EDUCATION!!

On reading this article by Valerie reminds me of 

Low Art | Art Brut | Jean Dubuffet

Thursday, 24 October 2019

Letters from the Wilderness by Joe Pollitt

25/10/2019

My Dearest Prince Babatunde Jellah Epega,

Greetings from Royal Tunbridge Wells to Your Highness on this cold and frosty October morning.

I trust that you and "Venus Bushfires" are perfectly fine. So too are your glorious Princesses whom I assume are happy and content on this extremely rarely seen early morning.

I couldn't sleep well so I've just woken up. A small miracle for me to catch the dew in the hedgerows for lack of a garden. Flat living can be so tiresome. Gardenless and fruitless; sunshine so rare in these parts. It is far too early for me. I am more of a night person, sleeping at dawn and waking at noon if you're lucky. I guess these are the advantages of being a childless man. Regardless of my daily habits, who in Africa cares? I have been thinking about your Opera and what is African Art? It, for me, has become a cozy home, for those that don't quite fit the mold, the misfits and the rejects. Those that want to confront rather than conform. There has never been a more important time for the emergence of the importance of African Art and I regard myself as an 'African Artist'. The Continent has inspired me to think and be different, as I'm sure it has you too. Things just seen in a completely different perspective and that needs to be celebrated and understood. You and Helen are doing cultural marathons to show others this and the vast opportunities it brings.

I really love Helen's song "We Come in Peace", but to get full audience participation Venus Bushfires needs to slightly simplify....be more like the football terraces and break it down. Like 'OH AH CANTANA, OH AH CANTANA'... so what about "FREEDOM GIVEN!.....FREEDOM TAKEN-AWAY!" - Do a Classic Trump on the Crowd, so all can feel included and nobody has to have a good voice...it is more of a revolutionary chant....This is truly a magical song, a mind opener for many, I being ONE!

I do hope we can meet soon to discuss more. This subject never gets boring for me. I woke this morning thinking how you switched from English to Pidgin as Fred (Kingston Gallery Owner | Simon Fredricks) did with Jamaican Patwah at King's and realize it is a 'life-collide'. A journey for identity when the parameters in England are so very rigid. I have seen this in my own cousins who I grew up with; now with New Zealand, Australian accents, but I really thought it more a put-on but I realize it is more wanting to be immigrated fully....In your case my dear friend, it is slightly different but rather more exciting because you are living between worlds divided. I wonder what your young girls, your wonderful Princesses, think of it all? They are going to be or already are, so incredible.

You have inspired me to write again and I want to find a rather different kind of voice and wrote this, which should become a series of "Letters in the Wilderness" ~ the wilderness meaning those not wanting to be brainwashed by creative ideas of the West more inspired by those without artistic formulaic degrees, Masters of Fine Art or even Doctors with PhDs....I prefer to encourage the untrained, those Artistic Doctors Without Borders. Whether this is successful, only time will tell but it is worth building upon regardless.

The Pidgin Opera has inspired me..Tonight I have been teaching myself "Pidgin"....I really LoveitO....but you can use the keyboard characters  too...- | ~ } "" { .... and so the symbols mean something too...this is awesome...so inventive and linguistically malleable.

How on earth did Helen write her Opera, Mami wata GENIUS.

So this is my first go. Please do bare in mind I can only get better:

"How-u-dey? Me-dey-fineO.
Wetin-be-u-dayO. Me no-sabi and me no~NO! Dash-me, Gi-me CoffeeO. Me no-money, me no~friendsO…..
Wetin-dey-happen? Wahala no-dey stopO.  Me comot for safety, me comot for security. Who dem send you?

Me want chop, talkshop dayda k-leg customa. Come chop, abeg...make me no vex you...if you no gree, that-be fineO, Charlie~~~~"

Good luck with tomorrow/today perhaps with the Opera performance to 360 plus kids. They are going to adore you all.

KEEP being FANTASTIC.

May the Gods bless you richly.

Lots of love,


African Joe XXXX

Ps. If you didn't get a chance to see this because of Opera Commitments: Here are the highlights from the England vs All Blacks | Semi Finals

 

Letters from the Wilderness by Joe Pollitt


24/10/2019


Dear King's Scholar Luke,

You have run beside me and at times held my hand metaphorically but you have been a great support. What is African Art to me? When I was a child I went to my primary school…First Day, I was given a small bottle of milk with a blue straw…New to me for sure…but I saw the straw and I saw the girl's ear and thought is this straw for that ear? Come on yes of course...it kinda fits…yes it does...makes sense...I don't need the straw, maybe she does?  Maybe she has somehow misplaced hers and I really don't need mine. Yes, maybe she does need my straw afterall...let us see. I had been strategically placed in the high-chair and overlooked the other toddlers. I felt so powerful, an overwhelming sense of unearned privilege. I was seen as important by the group. I had to do something all their eyes where on me. So I reached across and pushed the blue straw into the little girl's ear canal thinking it was meant to be….'The Lady Oldie'…Wwwell she wrenched me out my high-chair with such familiar force and rushed me out the room…I WAS EXPELLED….I was 4 years old. It was the First day of my academic career. Clearly, I was a non-starter....

When I was five I pissed my bed like a drunkard that I am now, in fact, aged 49, I piss my bed more now than ever before. I am known by some as the "Bedwetter of Royal Tunbridge Wells".  I piss the bed twice, if not three times a night just to make sure and in winter more to keep warm. Put I used to go on this hateful “school run”…I would punch the driver in the back of the head for driving too slow and again when he or she (dependent of school days) was driving too fast…I used to weep in the car every morning….and my school uniform stank of piss because I was so sad..I never noticed myself but others said I stank…They tried to help but I would simply piss on them....SO MISERABLE….TO HAVE TO LEARN FROM SUCH SELF RIGHTEOUS DO-GOODERS! I remember one day I went to the school and wanted to say goodbye to my Mummy….and Mrs Gledhill held me back with both arms…So I punched her in the face and ran to  kiss my dear Mummy goodbye…Again EXPELLED ..aged 6 and three quatres. MYBAD….

It gets worse…

I joined the Cubs and I was 7 and then my very famous AdMAN Dad, Stanley Pollitt, from Boase Massimi Pollitt went and died on me at the tender age of 49 in 1979, I was 8 years of age and I remember walking to the Sweetshop in Sussex after our weekly boring Sacred Heart Sunday Catholic Mass and saying to him, “D-Ad you are 49, you will be an antique at 50…if you make it?” The next day he was DEAD. Still to this day I feel my comments killed him…Bullet words from a terrible bed-wetting ‘EXPELLED’ son. He tried to teach me to Box but never let me punch him….he wanted to punch me to a pulp to teach me a lesson…A lesson in what? Well, I did learn something…how to run from adults. I don't miss our so-called, "BOXING LESSONS" one bit.

Naturally as a young fatherless boy of 8, I started swearing. Well what else is there to do...FCUK.

"FUCK…FUCKERS..BUM-LICKERS, ARSE SCRATCHERS, NOSE PICKERS, SHIT, SCREW YOU….BUM, TITS, BIG TITS AND ASS. SPIT, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK..COCK..COCK A DOODLE DOO...COCK...cock..cock..COCK..COCK...FUCK..FUCK..JESUS...CHRIST ALMIGHTY (pause for breath) CHRIST ALMIGHTY YOU FUCKING JESUS (that was my ulitmate 'crowd-shocker'!)"

Well, what a reaction from the Scout Hut. Everybody was watching me now...I was virtually famous. Celebrity no less..the rudest boy in the room. The fact was that nobody had heard such a potty-mouth, the parents heard right away and I was excluded…No more jelly and ice-cream birthdays for little old me...No Sir ree... I was sent home immediately…EXPELLED YET AGAIN…but all I wanted was for others to feel as angry and upset as I felt about losing my favourite dear AD/DAD…BMP | “SMASHED GET SMASHED” and he did….The silly potato-head.

It gets worse

To be continued.....


Anyway Luke, just thought I’d touch base. 

Hope that your childhood was worse than mine…I have plenty more to offer.

Big Kiss,

YOU ROCK…..STAR.

Yours sincerely,

Master Joseph Pollitt | 3rd Grade Student, Bottom Set and Sinking Fast

Wednesday, 23 October 2019

Letters from the Wilderness by Joe Pollitt

24/10/2019

Dear Puppanickle,

It's been a hard days night but um feeling quite all write. Had another tough two weeks, facing kite-surfing Wendy at the office..."Windy-Wendy"..Thatz what we 'Kool Kids' call-her. Let me share with you an'ickle Jackanory 'bout my hard-working weak......

And back to the writing, back to the rhythm. The sounds of the Underground, the blasts from the past, slowly waking up to join me in my-writing.  Adjust can't sleep, too excitedO. Me be me, wear me is free, look, finally let-it-be, as-eye-is clearly accepted. I can dance O, Lieca camel whithers humps, lumps and teddy-bear paws. This feels good. This feels right, like I've been herO....Wwater bumbum.  Just slide on in to the other-side, cultural butterfly spreading her beautiful wings. Neither this nor that can touch me now. I have found my tapping feet, my neck-nodding up and down and side to side hitting every beat.....as I slide on in to the other-side. Where rigid conformity and gentile formality are calmly swept under the rug. Lucy goosey is on her way going. It's been awhile since I have opened up like this two-YOOOOHOOOO! Busy pushing into third, then fourth, fifth and looking for my sixth gear. Riding in my mind, smoked filled razor-blades scratching at the sides of my eyes, opening the lids to see what others see when they read me...WRITE....

Nothing but confusion as I givea shout-out with some catchy little soundbites and slogans from the past; a grey haired porcupine with sharp-spike-spikes, waving all her weapons proudly in the air, letting off the bullets that shower without sponge, without soap, without Wwater bumbum. So you too can feel me thumping, banging out her beats, roaring out for loners, for losers, for rejects, for misfits, wherebe the ne're-do-wells...coz we wanna NO! There rizza seat with your name in-it, park your rump down and Abba rest in peace.. A creep-ona-seat, sitting sniffing at my feet.....YOU ARE WELL-COME!

Wotz the sense of making sense when incense is taking up the room. Nothing said, nothing spoken, all is quiet....ALL IS BRIGHT.... All clear on the Western front, back-off, theres nothing to see here people, absolutely no message meant. Make your way to the doors, find your closet exit and make like-a dove with three wings and leave. These golden years are priceless, the aches and pains of age are quickly fading as I type. Wot write have you to be here? No right at all, that's why it feels so dangerously WRITE .


Meet four a-pint or five depending on the outcome of the second part of the third Act. Put your best frock-on and let's boogy-baby, want-some? Till then stay as you are. What, no Wedding--ring? Don't change a thing. Stay just as you are, I'm off-too guitar-car.

All my warm fuzzy winky-wanky-wooes,

Uncool Joey XX

P.s. Howz Foam-at-the-mouth-Bob and Sightseeing-Simple-Dimple-Seaman-Simon, be sure, be absolutely certain this time, to send them my LOVE! Tata