Why should I sit with a straight back
when there are so many more interesting positions to take up?
Ivor Cutler‘s poem “To take” (from his album A wet handle) in its entirety.
I suggested earlier that people should write a strange little poem and have the courage to share it as a tribute to this wonderful fellow. A strange little poem didn’t come to right away, but I decided to instead attempt to realize an photographic idea that’s been rattling around my odd head for quite a while.
These were some pretty weird stocking stuffers that WeatherGirl got for Sub-Evil Boy and I at Christmas. We each got a glow in the dark frog and a pack of the Cat Butt Gum (she was obviously channeling an 8 year old boy). I then got the weird snake/mermaid lady, and he got the “Plastic hut: Educational and funny toy”, which still completely cracks me up every time I think about it.
I’d been thinking about creating a still life with these oddments ever since Christmas, but had never gotten around to it. I figured that Ivor deserved a tribute, and that this would be appropriate in its strange way, so here you have it. For those interested in more traditional tribute images, I highly recommend this wonderful shot by mikey delgado.
The book in the background is Concerto for stray hand on upright piano by Charlie Fowler, who’s a pretty Ivor-Cutler-like character here in Morris, Minnsota. His book Plenty of room between the trees is an absolute classic and most definitely recommended. (I think you can buy copies at the PRCA Gallery.)
I’ll close with this wonderful excerpt from “A pain in the neck”, also from A wet handle:
God: “What’s going on out there?”
St. Peter: “It’s Ivor Cutler. He doesn’t like the set up.”
God: “Tell him to go to hell.”
St. Peter: “But you said…”
God: “Never mind what I said. He’s always been a pain in the neck. He’ll be happy there.”
St. Peter: “Well, you heard what he said.”
Ivor Cutler: “I did. Hey, he doesn’t sound so bad as I thought. A bit grumpy. That’s a good sign. Maybe I should stay. … No, not to sit at his feet. Tell him ‘thank you’. See you. Hell, here I come.”
St. Peter: “Oh, hang on. God’s coming with you. He wants to check out what it’s like. Just to refresh his memory … he says. Here he comes.”
God: “All right Ivor, let’s go.”
Exeunt omnis
