in Berlin we walk through a field of freshly rained city dust, smashed wine glasses, techno clubs with psychedelic art on the walls, Karl Holmqvist and a pool high on chlorine, germs and naked, drunk bodies. I fall on wet concrete, a cloud of cigarette smoke touches my skin. a girl in the middle of an empty dance floor, her movements sporadic, she must be nuts. She gets insecure, maybe violent, shuts down and falls close to me. I kiss her lips. we walk along the highway, eat breakfast, bees are all over our food. You seem so distress, you fear, but I pay no attention to all what men do. Later that day i see you and your passive aggressive girl with a beautiful voice is there too, I drink my drink, I’ll be okay. or maybe I won’t.
microcrystalline wax, beeswax, stainless steel, piercing rings, concrete, wine, spit, return flight berlin/london, floor grinder, muscle factory guys, floor paint
solo show @ almanac, london