“Blazing fires,” yelled the Preacher. “Blazing fires will purify you! Just go on– walk through them a sinner and exit a saint!”
We smiled and we clapped.
The next day, we all lit our homes on fire and strode through our front doors into the flames.
Oh, how it hurt! How it burned– how we melted! We all rolled on the ground, writhing and screaming.
The Preacher tore off his face and his bloody skull laughed at us from our front yards.
THE HOSPITAL ROOM
The Hand of God reaches down into my shadowy inferno and yanks me out like an elevator going up, up, up.
I am a prophet and no prophets need eyes. We see the darkness and walk through heavenly fire.
So, I blindfold myself with white bandages.
A black serpent has curled up inside my head. I feel it inhaling my clean air then exhaling its own polluted smoke into my lungs.
On a Friday, I tried to gouge out my eyes so it could escape from my skull.
Despite all the blood, it still hasn’t moved.
As a gift for my sacrifice, the Hand of God touched my blackened eyes and taught me how to see like angels do.
I awoke on a Sunday in a white room dressed in a white robe.
"The project of a summer began with the notion of freezing different objects and photographing the results under different lighting conditions to attempt to preserve the purity of colors as they may be seen in nature. I was restricted to a very small area of land, and had to use found objects in my proximity. After collecting flowers in the garden and freezing them, obtaining better results than I expected I began to add found objects, such as three abandoned and broken windows, old books, as well as different utensils. The purpose of the study was to observe the interaction of all these objects in different situations, under diverse lighting conditions, in the studio, and in the case of the images here, mostly natural light. "Church," is a photograph which I took at Salisbury cathedral in England, printed, then placed into water and subsequently froze. "Later," "Staining the View," and "Window Pain," use one of the windows at different stages of the study, as I later painted it with a number of found paints. The project thus began with a simple idea, and because of the restrictions of space, allowed me in fact,\ to further explore possibilities by including a number of other objects."
“I’m not only an illustrator but also a writer, so I love to start my drawings from a story. I mix drawings and stories to create new imagery and I like to mix memories of childhood with current experiences. For this, I often find myself drawing ambiances totally dreamlike and surreal. I want to create in my illustrations new worlds, new sensations. I like to work with geometric shapes, soft lines and I also love colors. I think they are an essential part of my illustrations - without these would not exist.
'My Girls'is the new project I'm making here in Berlin. It is constantly evolving and I feel that within these images there is a lot of the city that is welcoming me at this time. This is also a project for women, portraying the feminine beauty that falls in love, moves and grows with the surrounding environment. It tries to make explicit that the beauty of the female body can be both disarming and elegant (even with a few pounds more). With 'My Girls' I try to talk about all the female eyes that I meet every day, which help me to look at reality with a perspective I had not imagined."
"I'm a sky watcher. I'm looking for aliens, but what I get from the experience is a rabid awe and excitement of something new, visitors from another realm. While the images I present are not meant to be aliens, I hope to capture the beauty and acceptance of the unknown. I have written about contact from creatures in the sky, and now I am attempting to create a non-verbal experience of the same. While the two might not match as far as content and storytelling, the itch inside me is satisfied in both cases."
WOUNDS IN US
i can catch the danger and the rhythm of the rain
mostly in sirens and screeches
i just float in my favourite forgiveness
and learn Italian easily
accent building wire fences
I can't tell one
from the other
and nothing unravels
something is sewn up in you
release your dead
make some room for me
Waffles: A found poem from: King, Stephen. Cujo. Viking Press, 1981. P. 105.
Dead-End Roads: A found poem from: King, Stephen. Cujo. Viking Press, 1981. P. 296.
Kids: A found poem from: King, Stephen. Cujo. Viking Press, 1981. P. 27.
They say, this is not incongruous. To my taste is quite pleasant, though. Such colors are spread in organic environment. Wrapped in raisin elegance with the brand new thirst. Cannot afford. Still late to early pretentiousness. Wandering around that bleached, remember it in purple juice! Streamed away for fertilization of new ethereal sprouts. No expectations, ripening by touch, the gazes are vanishing. As if in jest, with bare steps on serene day, the plisse folds flutter. Hardly touching the paving strewn with pollen, scarf flows after the emerald lisps. Whatever unknown bites have turned into forgetful with a bloom of fragile amethyst. Where did he get that disgusting chocolate jumper? Should be silver now. Fragrant apparel weaved from lacy peonies with strew of spice of smiles haggard with confuse. This scent has no age. Put it on and wear the whole day. Everyday. All year round.
1. Tell us a bit about yourself. What inspires you to create? Where and when do you feel most comfortable? Who or what inspires and influences you?
Stereoprimitive! Yes, you are! Finally, I have the voice. Isn't it fame? Thank you, Sea Foam Mag! It is only the 4th interview, yet, I bet they are already controversial (I should probably start to encript secret messages in the interviews)! Each time I dig and manage to bring out some gems. Kidding. Only intestines.
I'm a genius, who isn't? The force is a curse, inspiration - voluntary prosecution. Since very childhood I was quixotic, allergic to practical stuff: messed with colors to invent a new one, staged a ghost puppet show, walked on stone surfaces and picked up dry insects for the sacral beauty sake! Same shit, different day. Still collect rocks from my habitats to whisper the stories when I move. Comfortable? Seriously?
2. Where do you live? What are some significant traits of your surroundings (geographical, immediate and/or environmental)? How do they influence you?
Everywhere and nowhere, literally. The plan is to settle down. As an enlightener, I carry my luggage of kilograms of magazines, wreckage of conceptions and essences for the coloring. I chase the opportunities to grow and contribute (when I have a visa of course, my origin comes from the third-world country environment, and being a freelancer doesn't add much to the stability). Almost every encampment leaves a scar, vine stain on the mind-map, wrinkle or sketch and bouquets of stereotypes to work on (carefully fold and dry them, gently dissect afterwards).
3. Love the description of "Overage". Is there a personal feeling or situation that you can relate it to? if you had to describe it in one sentence, what would you say? What do you hope viewers take away from it?
So far art was produced by humans - it is infected with personality of the author. The series is the incarnation of an outdated pattern. It is not only about trendy-brandy fashion, mostly about aging and conversion. I collected several herbs to grow mould on them, extracted them with oil, and only then composed these collages, took pictures; the original is gone. Quite ephemeral (mail me for the protocol and on my 100th anniversary you can make such an installation). In one sentence - watch your petals. It’s all in the posture, liquid elegy I would say, the image appears as retro to us. Have we overgrown them? Is it just a memory? Whatever the viewer can find, poetry or bacteria - that’s the feed!
4. Are there any recurring themes or messages in your work or is each series its own message? Why?
I don't create collages*, rather meanings. There are plenty of pics around. The high mission is to invade minds with ideas, inject intracranially. To share the aid, to overcome the borders, frames… cages. In my case, visual aid. I’m still concerned that decoding is available only for sighted. Somehow my method intertwines with the digestion and appetizers. The common thing that is easy to approach and communicate through it, two-way as well. Look at this juicy lemon, smell the refreshing zest scent and oops-poops! *Lita spreads to various mediums - author's note.
5. How do you feel about the future? What are you hoping for from it, tangible or intangible?
The curve of marshmallow beaver tends to replace the agender cockroach! No one knows. I'm fine-tuned, empathic. Can be split into 10 engineers - too much vibes and impressions to distribute. Jalapeño-woman! The hot filling. The future, huh? Scared as a lady bug and calm as a stuffed seal - either fly from bloom to bloom or enjoy digestion. As an artist I think it is time to establish a holiday - "in honor of those who did not kill themselves" (according to some statistics, creative field is the leader in suicide rating).
6. There is no question (Lita just wants to throw up a word on the routine). Have you ever seen gipsy plumber? Street chemist-jugglers? Programmers that beg you to read the code from your palm?
Whereby musicians, actors, artists are the ambassadors of culture, the future heritage, prestige. I elitistically starve and my loan is close to a medic or layer student one. The buns and a good slut are always in need! Nowadays these "follow a dream speculation" just messes people up. Follow the common sense and save up! Artists are totally out of the system (even in Finland, one of the most civilized Nordic countries, the article in local paper said that only 3% of artists live on their artistic income). Welcome to the bloody shows where you can not only entertain, but also learn and suck from the energy share!
Creators produce unique matter – Archimedes’s principle (he may be not a real person, anyway, people love fairy tales) could be discovered and, for sure, would have been by someone else. Authors’ ambrosia is unique!
7. What is the most beautiful thing you can imagine? And the most unpleasant?
You`ve seen my creatures, I can imagine the whole universe. The question is sweet, thank you for asking. I suppose, the cocktail of beauty and disgusting that we are surrounded by: pinch off a piece of flesh, grind an amethyst, shed the light that pierces the ocean, leaf of melissa, acridity of pineapple, greed and bacteria on the tip of a knife. Leave to infuse.
"These pieces are a minimalistic approach to try and describe some of the indescribable feeling within me. A longing for something I've never known outside of my dreams."
"Overall, I would describe my work as 'tongue-in-cheek environmentalism', where I pair the clear beauty of nature with the less appealing effect humans have on their environment. I'm not trying to take a stance of an educated environmentalist, but merely a person observing how we leave a mark on the world. In my most recent work, such as 'Artificial Habitat', I make more of a conscious attempt to place these elements into one image, while my other projects are meant to be viewed as a series. 'Artificial Habitat' is an ongoing body of work, documenting the world around me through the lens of a 21-year-old mentally ill college woman on the verge of graduation, and her entrance into the 'real world'."