LUMIÈRE IS A GIRL IN JEANS
Lumière a girl in jeans, look at the light. Where do you place your hands? He asked if I had gone any further. How far do you want me to go? What do you think I should find? Is it something particular?
I try to measure every word and I realise it is not enough, because then I am not me, but trying to please someone else.
Vulva is a door. It is a sow and woman riding it. She lifting her skirt with dagger in her hand. Sight chases the demons away. Pit of chastity, of virtue, entry, passage way, vestibule, horns of Uterus, Fallobian tubes, Interforamireum, space between two holes, Genitalis Mueliebris Ambitus. There was a time when female genitalia had no shame, women didn’t have to be ashamed of their bodies.
To take a dip into hellish visual reality, attacked by refined junk. Negativity in the absolute, positive push: finished, perfected, brushed and polished images. Wrappings and packages, boxes, bags, plastics to burst coverings of great delicacy, of something to want, desirable ones, items to have. Female body is strictly regulated possession, it is under conscious and cruel use of power. We monitor consciously and unconsciously bodies of ours and others to fit in. It is obsessive and means are never enough. This is an everyday topic, topic of attraction and what kind of options we have and are given.
(It is like perfecting images and they are never perfect enough. Or when they are they are dead.)