A Few Words For Glen Slater.

I received an e-mail from Beth Slater, and when you receive a note from someone’s sister, it’s never good news, and it certainly wasn’t in this case. Glen Slater, who had frequented my stuff for almost as long as I had been foisting it off on the general public, has died at 60, an age which I found has gotten much younger every year. We’d never met in the flesh, Continue reading “A Few Words For Glen Slater.”

and thence to the main road

It wasn’t that he didn’t remember the lay of the land;
Hell, knew it as well as his own name,
(Even though, he noted with some disquiet,
The pavement had crept a bit farther up Bootjack Hill,
And there was a driveway or two,
Not to mention the odd electric meter,
That hadn’t been there some years before)
But there were considerations now,
Things which needed to be taken into account Continue reading “and thence to the main road”

the man who would paint “the burning of los angeles”, c. 1938

There is always the fire,
Whether in the charcoal sketches
Or the scattered canvases, each shunted off to the side
In various states of incompletion
(He offered little clue as to why each was seemingly abandoned,
As he seemed reasonably content with them
In terms of composition and technique,
Suggesting there was something else that eluded him,
Something he had misapprehended) Continue reading “the man who would paint “the burning of los angeles”, c. 1938″