Covent Garden
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Ernstophilia
Several years ago I had a feverish flu and was staying in a room where the only thing within reach of the bed was a book of Max Ernst’s fabulous paintings. I love Ernst anyway, and when I recovered I wrote this poem about someone who is deliriously obsessed by the painter’s work. It was originally published in…
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Moby Dick in a Paul Smith Window
In the window of Paul Smith in Covent Garden this lunchtime. Not the greatest photograph, but a white whale shaped stapler on a large piece of crumpled blue paper filled the entire window. So elegant and simple. Managed to speak volumes about the Paul Smith brand without a single item of clothing. Class.
Peter Kenny: a writer's notebook 