The Oil Man Cometh….last night.
It’s dark outside
Strange sounds from near my gate
So I get up.. look out at flashing lights…who could it be this late ?
And then I hear the sound …that low soft purring noise.
Oil travelling down the snaking hose into my tank
I wait..the Oil Man knocks
His torch a blinding light.
It’s your 3rd eye, I laugh
I’ve never known you come with oil at night.
The oil is in…I’d like to check the boiler in the shed, he says
The shed ! The shed…!
Oh…do come to my shed..I joke..
We stumble in the dark to Sweet Fine Art
I open up the door turn on the lights and say….
Welcome to the Womb..all red and bright
And he turns on his heels and gasps..oh my…
I can’t believe all this !…he’s whispering.. a most unusual place.
He peers.. he’s making mental notes..
he does not speak..he looks…
I see that he’s impressed… and I like that
because it’s real.
He’s not some clown pretending to like art
in swanky London Town, New York or Paris France.
He is the Oil Man in his working clothes
…he takes in what he sees, digesting it
As food for thought…ideas to be enjoyed.
and questions me…what does this mean ?…or that ?
He’s without airs…he is relaxed
and not in haste …I urge him on..I say,,
There’s more to this than that ..
There’s pictures everywhere…the Blue..the Orange
Yellow and the Green…and he’s
transfixed like Peter Pan ..and marvelling
Whilst moving thru the rooms.
This is sublime for me.
For this is why I’ve made my Sweet .F.A.
It’s for the Oil Man and the rest..
who want to look at this without the need to purchase anything.
Forget the History writ in books of isms ,
or the great turning points in art
All that’s required is an eager eye..an open quiet mind
that knows how to enjoy… to savour an experience.
He came a tired working man and left with lighter step
and I was very happy at the thought of that.
K.B. 29th Oct. 2014