who’s been a bad boy

Dear Art-Viewer,

Have you been a bad boy?

Have I?

Little boy, big boy, stupid boy, lonely boy ... (Come here and sit on Daddy’s lap.) I mean, we were just children! (Remember running barefoot in the backyard? I think of the small town I grew up in, and my stomach turns to knots. I remember staringinto the forest, late-late night, and imagining all the creatures lurking there, turning upside down in the dark. I remember my mania, and I remember my depression. I remember colors. I remember that face. I remember that night.) I’m just a child, right?!

Well, it’s safe to say that the spectacle of modern-day violence is on full display for those with the guts to look. This spider web of external brutality stretches its fangs outward, then inward, exposing each individual for what we truly are: a mess. When boy meets beast, when our masks slip off and that outrageous urge for life becomes too monstrous to contain, the silence that once drove us mad transforms into the scream that guides our rebellion. So, is it a cry for help, or a roar of triumph? In this case, it’s both.

In this installation, the art is not on display; the work remains rolled up, much like our hidden emotions, forgotten memories, and abandoned dreams. Instead, the art pieces serve as bricks and bones, constructing the scene where our character regurgitates the burden of adulthood and the freakish impulses of adolescence all at once, giving voice to the monster inside. We try to simplify the narrative, but it always backfires. “That’s just life.” Right? Well ... It’s complicated. Life can seem like a vague, overwhelming smear of faces and bruises, and a big pile of trash. Now the real question becomes:

Let this installation be a symbol of our collective mass psychosis and the provocative, twisted storylines we put together in a half-assed attempt to cope and move forward.

With love,

HURRICANE ALEXANDER