Present Day Ether
St. Rita’s Coffee, Kava, and Realized Dream Bar, Corner of Avenue A and Avenue O, Heaven (Right next to St. Gemma Galgani’s Giant Drug Emporium)
St. Catherine of Bologna delivers a venti Café Mocha Latte with a triple shot and an iced tea to the table.
Bob Ross: Clouds are free, very free.
HR Giger: You get talent when you discover the ground of your pain.
Bob Ross: I like to beat the brush, just beat the devil out of it.
HRG: I don’t know, how would I unless somebody tells me?
BR: Oh, you’d be in Agony City by now.
HRG: When I was a child, I was obsessed with skulls and mummies and things like that.
BR: Maybe in our little world, a happy little tree lives over there.
HRG: Some people say my work is depressing and pessimistic, with the emphasis on blood, death and overcrowding, strange beings and so on.
BR: People may look at you a bit funny, but it’s okay, artists are allowed to be a bit different.
(Julia Child stumbles in, a bottle of mostly consumed blueberry brandy in her hand)
Julia Child: When I was 32, I began to cook, up until then, I just ate.
HRG: Don’t you mean drank?
BR: Let’s drop a mountain right over there.
JC: In the 1960’a you could eat anything you wanted, and of course people were smoking cigarettes and all kinds of things, you two get me on that one, me I just drank, consumed with herb de’ provence, nudge, nudge…there was no talk of fat and butter and cream were rife. Those were lovely days for gastronomy, I must say.
HRG: There is hope and beauty somewhere in there, if you look for it.
BR: We don’t make mistakes, we have happy accidents.
JC: Merde, did you see when I cut my finger off deboning a pheasant breast. There was no happiness there, just blood, lots and lots of blood, thinned further by the day’s jug of wine.
HRG: Blood is beautiful, beauty is happiness. My God, the red afro’d hippy speaks truth.
BR: Just go straight in like you are going to stab it, and barely touch it…barely touch it.
(Blessed Karolina Kozkowna, seated a table away from the trio, faints, falling onto the ground with a thud, as gold apparently does not give).
JC: So beautifully arranged on the plate, you just know someone’s fingers have been in it.
(Karolina, who had just come to, faints again)
HRG: I like elegance. I like fingers in things.
BR: You can do anything you want to, it’s your world.
JC: Fuck, I’ve burned the fowl and am out of spirits.
BR: We tell people, we are like drug dealers sometimes. We come to town and get everyone absolutely addicted to painting. It doesn’t take much to get addicted.
JC & HRG: You’re telling me.
(Jesus walks by, saying nothing, shaking his head)
HGR: What’s his problem?
BR: He gets mad when people just don’t ask him for help.
JC: Oh, waiter, another jug of blueberry brandy…
JC: Guess anyone can get in here these days.
Thanks Google. And those who compile quotes, and those imaginative enough to figure out somewhere in here is not just random quotes pieced together, some completely made up stuff, possible heresy, not sure, mine isn’t judgmental, so it’s all about setting a timer Julia, and putting down the bottle.
Peace
_MFJ_
Blurred Clarity 