Last night A mouse crept in my bed and whispered in my ear: We’ve noticed your indiscretions, your little deviations from the norm The greedy thoughts you fight to keep locked inside, well fed The nature of your trivial fears pinned softly in your pinafore like your well-pressed pride, which needs to be whittled Down to size in humble form. Listen: you can be a sheep that frights Or a...
Hit me, bruise me, mark me, but don’t forget me. Don’t leave me, one foot in the gutter and another beached on the white shores of a blistering beach. It is one thing to feel pain, which they say only makes you human, and quite another to be denied, utterly rolled in your mouth, a wet, moist pit that you spat out onto the sidewalk and abandoned at birth. Touch me with your slender...
Damien Hirst: why still so popular?
The first thing you notice when you walk into Tate Modern (besides the boggling number of camera-happy tourists) is the long queue extending down the cement slope towards the ticket office, a bit like pilgrims on their road to Mecca, and a bit like movie-goers lining up for a hyped film. Because that’s essentially what Damien Hirst has become - entertainment for the masses who don’t...
YAYOI KUSAMA: frequently misunderstood, finally...
“…To tell the truth, to this day I do not feel that I have ‘made it’ as an artist. All of my works are steps on my journey, a struggle for truth that I have waged with pen, canvas and materials. […] I have chosen art as the means to accomplish this. It is a lifelong task. And even if only one person in the next hundred years were to comprehend what is in my heart, I would continue to create art...