These images were taped together and stuck in an old sketchbook. I love the idea of triptych. I got to thinking what this one was about, or rather, what I was trying to say other than putting things together and seeing how they relate. I do remember this was the day that we costumed as gypsies and I was tied to a Metropolitan column. Screaming during the photo shoot until a crowd had gathered. We did, however, disappear before the police showed up.
It had something to do with that evening’s wall installation for a nightclub. We made illustrations painting white dancing macabre figures on black plastic trash bags. Behind on deadline, and very impatient, we doubled the number of images in half the time by wet coping them on more trash bags, Rorschach test style. Ugh, that reminds me of painting backdrops in an abandon house, winching as we heard the rats chasing across the sagging sketchy roof.
You know, creepy.
Of course there were, and are, also the true quiet profound moments. Those just don’t seem as loud, or come forward as often.Strange.
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