We are hormoaners , a cocktail of physiological and neurological components on legs. The neurbiological and epigenetic composition of the cocktail changes us, our perception and therefore, the world as we experience it.
There is a relationship between grief and sensing the world. Things taste, smell, sound different. Our hearing, touching, seeing is altered. We are altered β remain changed. My vision is blurred yet my mucous membranes sense texture, flavor.
We seek protection, we seek insulation, we seek resource, we seek grease β how about adding a heap of butter? May I fry you up some comfort babydoll? Stored it for you, fuelled it for you β perfectly tempered. Fuel from under my skin. From under my earth β glistening, congealed, rich. More than human carriers holding agency in my body. Too much grief, I cannot digest. At least my deep fryer can pre-digest for me. Like a bird parent chews digests and vomits food for their young. I remember my father, always wanting to be less, always on a starve.
The binge, claiming. I remember in our book shelf next to the anti-gay propaganda his diet books. Her work investigates feminist and queer perspectives on the body, pop culture, history, religion and class.
Bad jokes are always part of the process, humour being an essential aspect of her work with abstraction. Besides her extensive solo work as a solo artist, she has collaborated with several artists and institutions including Melanie Jame Wolf, Colin, Self, Michael Turinsky, Claire V. Part of ProtoZone Stories of those left behind , Workshop, Followed by lunch for those who want to stay. With Ends in Mind is an on-going project by Undead Matter.
