Kevin Carrel Footer

Category: Art

  • The Handlers

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    KCF
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    In the performing arts, as in politics, there are “handlers.” They occupy a role just a fraction of a degree from the center of attention but buried in shadow. The purpose of a handler is to bring out the extraordinary qualities of the person they serve. They are many things — counselors, coaches, flack-catchers, confidants…

  • The straying of a molecule

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    KCF
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    At the smorgasbord restaurant, in the banal flatlands where gangs and throaty V8s roared like the cleavage of the girls on the corner and the only swath of green was the cemetery behind its high gates — high because everyone was clamouring to get in — we stood in line for custard. Because it was…

  • Extreme adoration

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    KCF
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    Some writers talk about the creative process using bucolic images of springs welling up in wooded glades, but for me it is a foul black sludge that I must constantly pump out of me. Beyond me, out in the world, the black sludge turns into a beautiful child that I can admire, but locked within…

  • Live sacrifice

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    KCF
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    I was not born but sacrificed into the world. Like the rest of us, I gave up something secret and essential when I came here, something I could not afford to lose but did.

  • Blue redemption

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    KCF
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    So I play the blues like I write the blues. It is my nature. It is what comes out when I open my mouth. I can never forget what awaits me, so every moment between now and then is invested with the exquisite, bittersweet perfume that is the scent of life itself… Breathe deeply.

  • Fiddling

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    KCF
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    By some curious fluke of my internal clock, I was up before dawn. Indeed, I was up so well before dawn that I had plenty of time to fiddle around (my favourite pastime). I fiddled with the mate, then I fiddled with the camera, then I fiddled with the tripod and eventually I fiddled with…

  • SF Tango (studio version)

    SF Tango (studio version)

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    by

    KCF
    in

  • In search of song

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    by

    KCF
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    These days, what excites me is music. It is almost the only thing I care about. Making it. Listening to it. Living through it.

  • Solace

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    KCF
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    In the lonely apartment, where I sometimes take refuge, there is solace if you know where to look for it. It is not to be found in the emptiness, of course. It is to be found in the fullness that becomes evident when one listens.