Moments before I fall asleep I am told the truth and I’m meant to forget it. The only residue I'm left with when I awake is my craving for the taste of placenta and a tantalizing desire to construct a world outside the theatre - this time, a real one, in which each of us directly participates as subject, not object.

 

The uncontrollable and nonsensical cycles of life, death, and birth brace me. Why babies have umbilical cords, the way a sunflower turns its head to follow the sun, how holding a gun actually feels quite natural. These insistent questions that all lead back to the same never-ending answer. Art is consciousness made under unconsciousness. It is the quest for locating life's specific rhythms and buried possibilities. It is the only language where my message will be closest to what I truly mean. Words are so limiting. 

 

As I was being raped by heaven, I stared down the eyes of death. What a loyal and unwavering friend Death is, standing like a savior by the side of unfortunate mankind. The monster still cannot reach me; I live forever in the echo of the centuries, so be it. The sunlight shining between my ribs burns away and removes the tunnel itself. This universal neurosis casts me out into the silence of the infinite spheres sole bearer of the secret of your name alone with you my most unknown now and forever, so be it. Without language, would all history evacuate into the ether? As soon as a human spoke, we became separated -- language was elaborated for the suppression of feelings. The repression of instinct, the core of civilization, can be expressed when I sing to you a very loud love song while naked and squatting on my heels. 

 

The days go by and I am no nearer and secret conversation is the most effective stimulant I know. I have an aching desire to explode, an insatiable yearning to vomit out all of my insides so I no longer have to explain myself. I sing, sometimes scream out the window to anyone with or without ears. I continue chasing after the illuminations, filling in any silences with my own wishes, fears, and fantasies- driven by the certainty that no matter how degraded, used up, and empty the world seems-- anything is still possible and I will love you with all my heart.

 

I repeat: there is a forgotten ecstasy that lives inside of us, a powerful force that isn’t made to fit into daily life. It is an experience that is beyond thought, a confrontation with the familiar, a nameless energy containing all the expanding circles and knowledge of the universe that we senselessly repress because we view time linearly, constantly interpret every moment that happens to us, and spend our whole lives waiting to start living. 

 

Years of love letters sent from this obscure prison and our built-up tension finally release after learning about the foundation of nothing. Smiling disbelievingly, you will never lie without telling the truth. I make too much noise when I see the light of day, I try to die in childhood. I float naked in gray water, fertilized and laughing because I am the culmination of everything and everyone I have ever encountered. 

 

I opened myself in front of everyone and you were born for you yourself, an effervescent island of consciousness locked up in a bag of skin. It was like I dropped a glass on the floor and it shattered and the world exploded. How much gold poured out, and how much rich blood was spilled... You were born, and I dissipated. I erased myself so you could have the entitlement to god. I love staircases so much, but I don’t love them as much as I love you. I love you as much as if I were always bidding you farewell. I still can’t believe you used to be just a seed — a seed that contained the future.

 

What I create is an attempt to access these complicated shadows that live within and around all of us and unveil their poetry. Yes, lightness and darkness intertwine and recreate themselves every moment, delicately stroking the prehistoric monstrosities of this earth. This is me making love to the human experience. Riding through the cosmos on the backseat of a serpent, I sob symphonies and secrets supply my soul. Heavenly being, seek me above the starry vault; I enter your sanctuary intoxicated with fire. 

 

 

 

Screen Shot 2019-08-12 at 6.46.17 PM.png
Screen Shot 2019-08-12 at 7.07.44 PM.png
Sunflower_sky_backdrop.jpg