one past nelson

revisited an old favourite glass box. with a starfish replacing the lion fish this time around, as star attraction. and then there was an impressive following act. lounge piranha and expensive beer. an evening like many other. memorable. the people we know. is the most reassuring reality...

i sometimes wonder what happened to the coffee houses of yore. the centers for the arts. the breeding grounds of all things cultured. not some government sponsored art school, where the kids are fed on ravi varma. or worse still a moneyed school of design. from where a million theory spouting annoying twats spill into the world armed with tarkovsky, monet and rareified notions of themselves. if only papa had a thinner wallet, this world would have been a better place without you.

i have a notion and won't be sad if you dismissed it as poppycock. the taverns of the minds are the places we drink at. slap each others backs at. destroy the furniture at. and crawl out of completely incapacitated for logical thought. over good music and beer, the arts of tomorrow are being shaped.