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The Heritage Trust
Preserving the Past for the Future
About Me
- Littlestone
- Studied art and design at Swindon School of Art, Wiltshire, England and afterwards Japanese painting and calligraphy at Kyoto University of Fine Arts, Kyoto, Japan. In 1966 I was a lay monk at the Zen Buddhist temple of Ryozen-an in Kyoto and practiced under the guidance of its Director, Ruth Fuller-Sasaki and senior monk Dana R Fraser (co-translator of Layman P'ang: A Ninth Century Zen Classic). Also present at Ryozen-an was the author and poet Gary Snyder. Gary Snyder was one of the first Westerners in Japan to study Zen Buddhism and was the inspiration for Jack Kerouac's book, The Dharma Bums. I was assistant conservator (paintings) at Kyoto National Museum from 1969-1980 and Chief Conservator (Eastern Pictorial Art) at the British Museum from 1980-1986. Japan Foundation Fellow 1973-1974 and Fellow of the International Institute for Conservation of Historic and Artistic Works since 1985.
3 comments:
Thanks to stubob on The Modern Antiquarian for first posting this engraving.
I nominate this as a megalithic poem:
Julian Cope Is Dead
Julian Cope is dead,
I shot him in the head.
If he moves some more,
I'll kill him for sure.
Now, Julian Cope is dead.
The Teardrops weren't they great?
In their own wee way.
'Treason', 'Reward', 'The Thief Of Bagdad',
The Teardrops weren't they great?
A footnotes all they'd have got,
In the annals of rock.
Until I got wise,
And hatched up my plan,
A footnotes all they'd have got.
Jules C. just follow me,
I have your interests at heart.
Now take this knife,
And write to your wife.
Tell her it had to be.
Now Julian said no,
He didn't want to go.
More records he wanted to make.
But if ?pitch? is your man,
You'll go with a bang,
Bigger than the Beatles for sure.
Now, Julian Cope is dead,
I shot him in the head,
He didn't understand,
The glory of the plan,
Now, Julian Cope is dead.
We'll have platinum records not gold,
To hang on our walls at home.
When the neighbours come round,
I'll always break down,
Repeating the stories of old.
But who is this man,
With holes in his hands,
A halo round his head.
That Arab smock,
And golden locks,
It can't be, it could be, it is!
J.C. please, you've got to see,
I was doing what a manager ought.
The records weren't selling,
And Balfie was drooping,
And Gary had a mortgage to pay.
From the LP "The Man" by Bill Drummond
http://www.student.brad.ac.uk/alradtke/lyr-jcid.html
Nah... JC's fine, in fact I just heard him at -
http://www.headheritage.co.uk/ramgen.cgi?catalogue=themodernantiquarian&track=indedication :-)
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