BUNK-BED BUTT-SEX : THE DEATH OF A GIFTED CHILD
2023, MOLT Berlin — A box full of grenadine, a smear of drawings, thousands of stick figures with big boobs and big dicks, plates of raw meat and teeth, and most importantly, MY MOTHER
Statement from the artist:
The BUNK-BED BUTT-SEX Collection is a coming-of-age story, the story of catastrophe, of burn-out, of mass-murder and the mass suffocation of queer, creative individuals ... It is the grim satisfaction of a clean sweep into nothingness. The stick figure drawings, with big dicks, big boobs, and big smiles, symbolize a communal loss of innocence, the addictive properties of self-abuse, and the toxic, cyclic simplification of the individual in an effort to perform normality. And for who?? Essentially, this is The Death of a Gifted Child – the gradual disappearance of hope in the eyes of an artist (everyone), and the mental turmoil that comes with knowing one’s potential and having no appropriate outlet for self-expression. In a society that was never built to accommodate originality or imagination, where the commodification of human emotions turns great minds into price tags, being yourself is a truly momentous mission.
I think it’s safe to say our subjective internal dialogues are their own beasts; we slaughter ourselves over and over, oftentimes without consent, and find ourselves trapped inside our merciless minds, again, suddenly numb to the world. I say, one hundred young boys went into the forest and never came back, and I’m really not joking. And it’s sad, surely, but not so simple; 100 boys entered, and 100 returned, BUT THESE ARE NOT THE SAME BOYS. – On the topic of taming the wounded self, the utterly-beyond-repair ego, the gifted-child-to-tortured-adult pipeline, takeaway this: The forest changes you. The darkness does. The swamp. The attic. The dirty mattress. The pickup truck. The glove box. ...
Depression lingers. And that’s why I’m here now, to show you what’s left of me ... to show you what’s been buried, over and over, but not at all lost.
Mental illness is real, its consequences are real, and the conversations surrounding it, or the lack thereof, are an increasingly urgent societal dilemma. Which person in your life needs to kill themself for you to take this issue seriously? Seriously.
It is time we take the pressure off what we do or make, and emphasize who we really are.
Remember that art is not entertainment; ART IS PASSION.
I entered the forest and did not come back.
I entered the forest and did not come back.
