Buddha/B-side/Who is female?/Cunt is currency.


Why is your body moving? Try to be less aggressive.
How am I aggressive? To deal with aggression or should one? Or Is physical violence the limit?

To make one feel like a woman, a natural woman: what kind of a woman is that?
Is that what is needed in need?
And who needs this natural woman?

Demands her and what you prefer her feeling like? What is it to feel like a woman? Girls walking at malls waiting to be found. Girls walking in circles at airports wanting to be found. I need to be found.

My cunt is currency. I am not a human being.
I am an object.. I need to be found. My cunt is currency. I am not a human being. I am an object. I have no other feelings than those that are programmed. Then there is the endless passion for bringing you pleasure, if that is a feeling. I don’t think much of myself or for myself. I know it is not allowed for me.

I think things that are only given for me to think as I am told, I do as I am told, as I will never do against your wishes and against what is suitable for me to do and say. I stand and sit when you tell me and state my admiration to you which nothing can extinguish.

crazy love the fragrance. Compassion is what I should fell, But I do not. Problem is how the issue of gender is discussed and what is it about? Gender that is devalued and problematic. When the whole idea of gender is bullshit, you feel like a natural woman, question mark.

Cunt is currency, looks is currency, what else is there than having currency and something to buy?

I can approach this topic by how I have always been viewed by people, commented and stared at. Pushed into a role of female which is highly narrow and limiting, refusing this is irregular and not wanted, to understand power of feminine attraction is awkward, what power, and which one thing one should understand is how to exploit this situation, to see the whole picture over and over again unchanged can be defeating. To me it has been traumatising no less to figure out how trapped we are by visual pleasure instantly and how women do not have power because our thing is to please and via that get attention and be liked, loved, noticed, approved, hired etc. It is sad as hell. By kissing ass and doing as we are told we do not get power, we do not have power, ever.

To be female in a shallow profit driven world and succeed is to accept how one-sided women should be, are desired to be, not try build more dimensions and possibilities. Assumptions and options which repeat the same stay boring and have nothing to do with progress, intellect, human rights and dignity or my line of work when one tries to change the state of things and one’s life, tries to change the expected. My worth as a maker is in the work I do, not on how I look like and what I have under my clothes. To pay attention to my looks when I work is pure sexism and I do not tolerate it, not from women and not from men. I am many times left out because of my gender and looks play an unwanted bizarre role, sexism functions as limiting and exclusionary like picking the fruit to be eaten. I do not play games which sexism is all about and expects to play along. I do not accept my role as all pleaser which is the part of women and rules of this game are set for women. We all are scaled out through and through how attractive we are which tactics is wrong and hurtful in many ways not only for the people but for progress within society.

Attractiveness is subjective and the easy breezy simple way to see and judge people, why on earth is it so? Stereotypes live on as do behavioural patterns, models of thinking. It is far too easy to think and stick on to the view that women who are attractive are stupid, available, weak, deaf, easily led, want certain things, can be manipulated and to overcome this bias they must work harder, look ugly, learn to say no, work harder than those who do not have the burden of looks and sex, burden of sex is the expectation, assumption and the ready-made image which must be met. Yes a burden because whether ugly or beautiful we are judged by it completely and it is waste of time, human resources, energy, unnecessary bullying and repeating of old thinking patterns which do more harm than good. How to be objective and be sure to get accurate results is obviously very difficult task but it is not impossible. It is not enough to be impressed by work done, we must be impressed by character and habitus, to please and like are more important than what has been accomplished. What comes to doing one’s job well, is it a matter of gender and appearance because cock has more valid info and capability than cunt? We live in a corrupt world where to understand laws of corruption pays off. I must grow myself a cock. What do we do to end corruption is not play with it.

In business and in art where you come from, gender and appearance strikingly have big roles still, looks and gender can tell of intelligence and talent usually lacking which correlation to me is pure fascism. That is the most comment sparking thing about me I appear and I am not what you expect me to be, such issues which concern me as a human being are almost solely about my surface from head to toe. Best thing is of course to say so that I can hear that I am fuckable. Oh yes fuckable of course, how else can someone like me be understood and set to one’s place but naked and legs apart. I am trying to be a professional artist but it fails for many to behave as professionals somehow (is there piss in your heads?) who think they are professionals when it comes to gender roles and how women are treated and perceived within the industry. Someone who looks like I do cannot be talented and her looks must be commented because that is the compliment, right. I don’t find it flattering, I know what I look like and I do not push my appearance to be the most important thing in me.

One more thing: when photographing an exhibition, it is more interesting to photograph the artwork than the artist. When I say I don’t like to be photographed, please don’t insist because I mean what I say and I am showing my work not myself. For me this has a huge difference whether you get it or not. I’m not into posing with my art, it is fucking lame.

Men’s fears towards femininity that breathes outside regulated cocooned womanhood. What is a woman?

She left her panties and other underwear on the floor without thinking much who would see them as she does with all her clothes, dropping them off liking to watch them herself as constellations of random and a day; cotton, lace and strings, used, changed, private creatures which a minute ago were pressed against her body and let loose. Memory of a cloth has parts of her form. What is so disgusting about it she does not understand but tries maybe that is what she likes because she has to be pure and clean to be liked. She does not leave her clothes on the floor to stay there for weeks but just for a moment, she is not that disturbed.. It is a moment of absent-mindedness, carelessness and something of herself she likes to examine, her relationship to all. It is that she does not behave like she should behave well-mannered especially when she is alone. There are windows, anybody can see in. She malfunctions and is dislocated in places like arms, in places that are sterile and in perfect order and under control that nothing breathes there, like finding perfection in death. Demand for sterile body is against life’s natural flow, decay and against nature in her, her dirtiness, her will and her femininity that smells. Why are you so horrified but you still want to barge in, invade her and her privacy to watch her wrongness to blame her and accuse her for her being wrong not being like a norm of the civilised. Do you lack something when you do that or is it just power you like over her? Do you notice what you lack? Act of curious and wish to speak about what an abomination she is. What did she do? Fears of men have become fears of women fulfilling stripped and solid perfection to be admired. We are raised to think superiority is sterile environment just as a superior race would be. Shame of what did she do. Shame that is experienced because of her, for her and what she is.