I don't listen to what art critics say. I don't know anybody who needs a critic to find out what art is.
"I wanted to bring the art absolutely up to date, to retrieve it from art history and give it life.I tried to trespass beyond that invisible barrier that no one is allowed to cross; by my acts encourage the individual to expierience it anew and to challenge it, deal with it and thus see it in its dynamic raw state as it was being made and transformed, not as a piece of history. "
The Peacock Throne.
And to all my dear, earnest admirers, I thank you for your support and constructive criticism, you've pushed me to my greastest heights. I thank you with all of my moist, turquoise soul. I beg others to appreciate my musings and collected pieces as an homage to life, as a tribute to death, and also as a mockery of what is tangible.
Look at me, eyes awake, as I shove twenty grams of white through your nasal cavity. Push, thrust, my pinky through the sharp hairs, your brain it soaks up the fluff, and I feel your movements, soft, then shaking, ending rough. Snowflakes landing in the corners of your eyes, they melt and pour downward. Pupils freed, now explode. White, white as blow.
My limp friend... This is the beginning. You've never felt so real.