“米莫萨·埃查尔德的作品让我们进入了一个万物相互渗透、相互变换的世界，一个欲望彰显和欢乐的狂欢世界，用一种模糊的声音组成了一个反叛的语言系统。”—— Romain Noël
I woke up with pop music in my head again.
A certain very influential LA-based stylist is actually just weaponised serotonin or whatever.
The other day, as she appeared through the window, I wondered whether she knew to what extent the soft folds of her back revealed the shape of her spine, disfigured from so many years sloped in the same position.
From this angle, I couldn’t help but wonder whether her lower vertebrae had become damp or spongy, or whether the blood had dammed in her lower back. I wasn’t sure whether this was a form of new life that I couldn’t comprehend, or just another weapon upgrade.
Since then, I’ve let her numb my brain every morning. When I talk to people about it they just say that you need to be careful with how you share and show your holes, and that you should learn to draw the line between hard and soft. But all I want is the complete exteriorisation of the world. I want everything to have a face, and only a face.
I don’t really have an image of the blood in mind. I don’t think it’s photographic. It’s already there.
I mean I’m not even sure we’re talking about images anymore, or just different kinds of chemicals leaking from different kinds of trays.
A song has also been created by Aodhan Madden on theoccasion of this exhibition.
Available for a listen here.