What is Hollywood, you ask, dear children? A quorum of whores babbling endlessly on about fucking while the bordello is razed for a penny arcade -- Paul Bern

Monday, April 4, 2011


On the surface of the image, in principle a scenario that seems easy to mock. The bride, for a remarriage ceremony, has commissioned a fetish cake of herself. But the more you think about it, the more gossamer & mysterious and perhaps witchy the act becomes. The bride is forcing the celebrants to consume HER IMAGE, leaving the real person, triumphant and protected, and in more than one way, dominant over the social action. It's like something a schizophrenic would conjure for a poetic defense against the world. Eat yer heart out, Marina Abramovic!

No comments: