Abundance lacking
Profundity
Gathers
Masses
Built from single use plastics
Novelties in great quantities
Made new by machines
Made old by hands
Anthropocene
The Spleen
of Paris
World fair
Happy meal prize
Stomping through
Trash like dry leaves
Culture made crispy
&irresistibly unsatisfying
Words with teeth
and teeth with holes
When I was much younger, I chose art-making as my life's work. However, possessing a strange combination of self-doubt and hubris, I felt the need to prove my ability to make provocative works replete with arcane philosophical motivations, which I aimed to describe with complex art jargon. I remember this with hot embarrassed cheeks. I no longer aim to impress anyone with my work or my explanations of the work. Instead I focus on bringing pieces to life because I simply must. I aim to make them as accessible as possible. I share them humbly and honestly.
I'm happy to be 28.
My lips shriveled like two salted slugs.
The goal of nearly every human is to find and pursue meaning for one’s life during one’s lifetime.
An existentially-minded person would tell you that everything is meaningless. In an optimistic interpretation, this phenomenon grants each individual the power to attribute meaning to otherwise meaningless objects, words, and situations.
Art imbues value into otherwise meaningless materials.
Watering dead plants.
Lines of worry,
nervous smiles,
the face you make when you're all alone.
unrealized & unassuming
ill-witted & maladjusted
self-loathing, self-loving
beauty-obsessed
repugnant
Pleasure seeking
ascetic
5 life challenge
pathetic
man-eating vegetarian
left-handed blasé teen spirit
unrequited
un-united
loner psychlogy
mother’s biology
——
On the tail end of my beauty era
Cells degenerate, they return to the ether
Pains grow and calcify
Stultification prompts indifference
Indifference causes me to ossify
I spurn a man who loves me
I spurn a second..
Fruitless is my womb
but fecund is my brain
my chest is in pain
and death waves it’s hand to me mockingly like a
a beauty queen on a float in a parade
My best friend is a bottle
Confidants
--
In the morning my face bore all I wished to hide
like a sheer curtain in a window with a light on inside.
—-
I love my mind but I hate my body.
I live in abstraction
and memory
from a lens smeared with grease
some obscure cognitive astigmatism.
AB