A collision course in chosen portraiture – she’s about to flip the finger midst the flip of the script, the ambidextrous sonuvabitch that she is
We all are – rather inactive albeit completely taken in by this thing, singular and dutifully suggested to her by way of one such over-anticipated art gallery or another.
Mountains from magnificently instrumented molehills and the motherfu*ker says that she is in fact the greatest living artist about to let itself be forever unknown.
To all n sundry – a dime a constrained and contrived dozen and that Dolly Parton existence placated by way of coffee-painted industry shall fall slip-slide by the wayside… f
Tick-tock, take alarming stock and start
At giving them the time. Dali salvaged it all and said so much. Nothing but an irreversible necessity of hidden quandaries.
All the drivel and none of the drive anymore ‘cept for…
Nine-to-five no more and thank you kindly Dublin ‘Fair’ City – livin’ upon an urban-shaped prayer. Where Art matters more than any of her favourite beer-faced sins in this whole wide snide-eyed world of inundated
Ours in fact – The artist who stands apart, no-one and none too much the typified art which will adorn ten thousand more walls of complicated yet spontaneously chosen portraiture… the needle in the haystack – one of each – midst that of a million international cities.
Please, she is – they all are – especially exceptional at being upside-
down at being
Invitingly real. And it feels a little like a funny kind of a satisfying simulacrum lifestyle again
Wherein the only people we seem to be able to dutifully deceive needn’t have to be ourselves.
And their imaginations bring with them a poised source of constant aside creative income
Even if none too physical anymore than the next great person, as they aspire atop that laddered existence – to the rank of the next great master.
They just won’t back the fu*k down ever again…
Until they feel a light flicker-to-swipe.
At the kindly, kindly rejuvenation of their festering insides.
Always a smile
Even if and when you see for yourselves the mere makings of a put upon frown.
Shameless at being shameful, strangers connect the dots because of them – they are all of us only evidently over-accentuated.
They take our art apart, while we take them apart at the imperfect seams of their senseless beings. No wonder they are all so fu*king undeniably, disgustingly scared.
Of themselves forever more.
We are simply these miraculous Puppeteers who shall attempt as best we shan’t ever manage to achieve – to steer too many ships to ever get to keep a watching eye upon. Put upon.