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Eight

is it a colour

not yet discovered?

They say the eighth colour of the rainbow started to fade around 460,300 years ago

before it could be witnessed or recorded into human memory

the words to describe it do not exist and never did

Where Do Grandmas Go When They Get Lost? is a visual tale that explores, through the eyes of a child, the whimsical and poignant question of where our grandmothers go when they "get lost."

AI Film Festival 2024

#inspiration #Youtube

ego massage

you dress the part to be the part velvet talker with pockety square caressing the big boy turd sculptor. blushing at your raving complements, who could imagine such a voluptuous organic form, tapered so perfectly and textured so meticulously. Yes, everyday a new masterpiece you say, blush blush he did. a collection steadily doubling in value. your capacity to sell shit is outstanding

because your special talent is fixing broken limbs with massages but it didn’t work on mine and your fancy shoes stepped in shit

#thoughts

mentaltimetraveller

Calvin Marcus Fish with peas and spaghetti, 2017  Glazed ceramic 17.8 x 10.2 x 5.1 cm 7 x 4 x 2 in

#inspiration

mentaltimetraveller

Bea Schlingelhoff, ‘No River to Cross’, 2021, exhibition view, Kunstverein München.

#inspiration

mentaltimetraveller

David Altmejd

2022

#inspiration

fat twat stained big tooth crooked smile eternal beer breath dribbled slime stain fluent in fart jokes stepped in shit and brought it into my house.

you specialise in copy paste copy paste copy paste copy paste copy paste copy paste copy paste copy paste

an upgrade from little me

#thoughts

sleeper strangers

on the overnight plane

i am wide eyes disguised amongst the

sleeper strangers

my crawling eyes roll up your muscular hands tangled in gold, dance along your belly and explore your stubbled jawline until lingering on the back of your neck

while we cross continents and you sleep deeply by my side all night

#thoughts

exislanegra

mar de fondo /febrero 2017 víctor m. alonso

#inspiration

september night

our goodbye lasts a moment too long until we are crossed-eyed gazing with your thick glasses tangled in my hair i taste the bitter flavour of your last drink you count my freckles as I fall asleep

and the next day we make plans over lasagna and a bottle of wine

#thoughts