"It was as if the islands reflected the breaking apart of some pole star of the mind, until eventually they provided their own means of orientation—the polished, tense blue of the sea; the lewd swelling of fertilized vegetation; the strong zodiacal light." A distinctive international anthology of art and literature from 22 noted contributors in response to current cultural and political conditions.
Just heard the devastating news that my friend, the visionary Swedish #Surrealist comic artist John Andersson died this morning.
He was an intense and awkward man, never in good health, but driven by an inner voice in an actualised way most people aren't. (His first words to my partner were 'What does your inner voice say to you?').
His very first question to me when we finally met was 'How is Brian Eno regarded as a rock poet?' (He was Eno obsessed). His occasional letters were a joy, with hand-painted envelopes.
Given his relations with his inner voice, he was one of the few people I felt I could discuss my hospital hallucinations with. Above my desk hangs his gorgeous supportive picture of me in hospital, surrounded by friends/ghosts/witches/blues albums. He signed it off 'We're with you'.
The poet Beatriz Hausner speaks to me about growing up with surrealist parents Ludwig Zeller and Susana Wald in Chile and Canada, political pressure from the right and left, Phases, bilingualism, the