Bangkok Poetization

Everyone’s a writer or an artist in a way. Everyone, at some point, kept a diary or dared a few strokes of the brush. But over time, busy with one’s own life of daily routine and obligations, the artist within dies. Arriving in Bangkok, many again feel that long gone artist in themselves.

To “materialize” one’s own enthrallment, something felt deeply. Thailand, or Bangkok for that, for many becomes a life-changing experience. Many dream of living in this never pausing carousel of decadence, downright commonness and darkly raffish milieu. Writers, painters, musicians dedicate work to their very own Krung Thep.

The artistic productivity of a city serves as a gauge of the city’s vibrancy. Most artists though have no stage and no gallery. They pursuit their art quietly for themselves, not even looking for a springboard to market their talent. I once met a Thai girl she designed the most amazing T-shirts.

She only made them for friends. A neighbor is the most amazing artist in her garden. Everything grows in a stunning beauty making my own garden look like a wasteland. Or then there’s the coincidental discovery of art – like recently on YouTube. Whatever drove this guy, I love the song, the lyrics, the profanity.

“That’s not a pretty girl you fool … If you get her close enough you see her eyes are burning mad …” – On Silom Road by some Honest Tom & Pfaff Studio:



I’m sure you know an unknown artist out here.




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April 30, 2009 | Filed Under Being Farang, Culture & Arts, Just Do It! 

Comments

One Response to “Bangkok Poetization”

  1. Honest Tom on May 19th, 2009 3.25 am

    So glad you enjoyed my song. And did me the courtesy of actually listening to the words. :)

    I don’t need to tell you how vibrant a place it is at midnight, and how quickly it clears when the storms hit, but sitting out there with a bunch of good Thai friends for a few nights I got to see both sides of the story, and whilst I had no intention of writing about the people I saw, that’s exactly what I did. Couldn’t resist the opening lines, since it’s the overspill area from Patpong, and I had always wondered what happened to the ladyboys when they got past their prime.

    I guess music, art or poetry either opens up the soul a little, or becomes disco dross. Your article was very enjoyable to read, and again, thanks.

    Honest Tom

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