Running Euphoria


Running Euphoria. Miss Finland is a winner. Foaming mouth of a horse, muscles working with tense mission to keep track and footwork in balance fast and faster. 

Born to run, some people are born to run, to run the world. Run for office, run away, run to the wall, run and run, run to win A RACE and then what? You are a winner.
Today it is as if we are all supposed to run. To be still is not an option. Nobody wants to be a loser so we run, that is how we win. Run in corridors to get there on time, make an appointment, down the stairs, tell everybody how we have been running, how many kilometers and it felt so good. Diagnosis for our time is this: coming to you and never getting there. We have to know how to run correctly not to injure ourselves and not to look like fools. To sweat is good for body.

To think of me, jerk off.


2001, self-portrait on bed

Surely my nude picture is going to explode the internet. I wish. Why do I do this and have done it, is for many reasons. It is the conflict which interests me, it is because nudity on the internet is seen obscene which naturally is a very every day picture in a sense that showing skin is more a rule than exception. In art reclining nude is a concept and an ideal. To see a bare ass, I should probably be wearing a thong and it wouldn’t be as big a crime, is a revelation. Judging of the ass begins immediately. A piece of ass, hmm not big enough, not round enough, not this and that. Looks like a normal white ass. A crack, and then you can go deeper because all is not there, not even close.

To think of me means very often to think of sex, not me as a person who is a complete human being. I am all too often seen as very incomplete and incapable just because of my gender, origin and looks. I am directly associated with sex and measured like a piece of meat. Here the body of mine should be covered because it is a shame, a hurtful picture. I must keep this secret, pornography, eroticism to myself, although it is all over and why I exist. To hide my sex which equals my being, my existence, everything felt in the context of constant sexualization and human relations, is to me hypocritical. Those who speak of me in objectifying terms as I wasn’t there want to have something to stare at, point their fingers at, put someone in shame, ashamed. That is possibly the only thing they can do, feel embarrassed. This picture is about hurt, it is about need to humiliate just as much as it is about laying on the bed after a hot day. It is not about the act of fucking or seduction. It is a reclining nude which usually are seductive images and were pictures of prostitutes, is a classic term in fine art. It is a kind of replica or appropriation. In fine art, which I began to study in my early twenties and saw a lot of reclining nudes of women, nudity is where art begins. It is no wonder art is sexist, sex is a difficult topic and which open sexism I have also

faced like it was something completely organic to the system of art, a game.

SuoMen Performance Red Ochre Splash 1998, image by Sakari Sali