This is Planet A from Momoko Seto:
She creates hybrid mix-genre films by transforming everyday life elements into a poetic and singular universe.
She also has some filthy seafood porn like this one.
(search engines show that people get to this blog by looking for “octopus” and “octopus porn”. Today is a better day for them!)
Like the sea monsters that prowled the edges of the once flat earth, the Cephalopods and Worms threaten our boundaries. Primitive, alien, yet connected to our own predatory minds and soft flesh, they both attract and repel. They are a premonition of the human animal yet to evolve, and they remind us that the primordial persists within us. It is a fearful affinity that is allegorized in the earliest myths of creation and procreation, and is the heart of evolution.
Judy Fox at P.P.O.W Gallery, NY.
I’ve been busy and aroused for the past weeks and I’ll be experimenting more intense feelings for the next ones: I’m preparing a new series of photographs that are part of Bestiario and will be soon available for contemplation (more info to come).
One of them is a self-portrait that deeply explores the idea of embracing evil and it’s been such a self exploring experience that it sometimes does not allow me to sleep at night.
Mandy Barker’s “Soup”
Beautifully alarming.
At first, the visual power of a glorious, colorful chaos will hypnotize you like a mermaid song. Slowly, after starring for a while, the ugliness will erupt; danger, repulsion and awareness of a seriously sad and worrying issue. So glamorous and disgusting!
These impressive images reminded me of “Monster Soup” where this lady drops her tea cup scared by the microscope image of all the filthiness that inhabits Thames’s water, which at the time was London’s directly drinking source.
Fortunately now, we, lucky people, have access to potable water. Although, as clean as it might look, the cycle of water and karma (what goes around comes around) will bring all the corruption back to us. And on its way will also affect millions of other species that have nothing to do with it.
There are all sorts of things in the water. I know these girls that after moving to London, their tits started to grow remarkably. It sounds funny and maybe appealing in a very naive way but that is actually because the water is infested with high levels of estrogen from contraceptive pills.
Signs of sex changes on male fishes have been seen. Also, the most common cosmetic surgery within men in the UK is breast reduction.
Gorgeously scary.
(Well, their spread of feminine regulators is certainly out of hand! )
That’s one of the good reasons why eco-porn is so important: because we need not just new porn but new dirtiness!
A nomadic way of life. Locations, languages, concepts are always floating.
Death came close to me these days, while I was sitting on the sofa thinking about the bright future.
I’ve been having dreams about tropical jungles, weird tiny creatures crawling up my bedroom’s wall, big mountains…
There was this boy that came to me and whisper in my ear some unintelligible language, felt like he had his tongue all inside me, so strange and pleasant. I close my eyes as if I was high on mdma. I kept hearing his voice talking about places where fear didn’t exist, only pleasure, until he tried to convince me to jump out of a cliff into the wild river. I thought about my friend Patri and what was she feeling when she jumped out of her balcony. It was like a moment of sharing.
After that dream, at class, we read a play from Mark Ravenhill, The Cut. There’s a dialogue between Paul and John where, at some point, Paul closes his eyes and John tells him about a place, in the middle of the woods, where there’s only himself, no history, no society, no nothing, just peace, just the truth. When Paul opens his eyes he begs John to shoot him.
I’ve been speaking with skulls while listening to Yma Sumac and Arthur Lyman.
At first, I got angry. Like when I put a foot in Oxford Circus or Portal del Angèl, full of people hypnotized by the idea of glamour and the nauseous smell of capital behind every piece of glitter.
It’s a terrible contradictory feeling getting in a MARKET of ART. I can’t help feeling sad when sensing that loss of innocence, that lack of fantasy around the the artistic experience. Facing such a touchable reality was schizophrenic: I was mad for being in a commercial centre for rich people to buy some beautiful/famous piece for their living room and at the same time I was fascinated, living a mystic and romantic experience by looking at so many and so wonderful works of Art!
A brief tour around:
This one caught my attention. Rabbit Construction from Gimhongsok “…questions of authorship and intent disrupt the reading of the work and destabilizes its meaning. Gimhongsok’s work skillfully critiques how global brands appropriate symbols and manipulate our desires while showcasing how these same symbols are cynically recycled for international audiences.” Pretty ironic and with that kind of symbolism that make all sense.
There were interesting three-dimensional structures:
Max Frisinger. This kind of structure remembers me my first year in Fine Arts, Porto. There’s something very “artistic” about it…
Thomas Saraceno “Hydrogen Cloud Explosion”
I don’t know the author of this one. Once again, I liked the structure and the sense of protection.
There were some intriguing poetry constructions and characters:
This one could be a post by itself. Do not touch. Please.
There were some interesting essays with colour and frozen images…
At this point I was (I am) getting tired of seeing things. That’s what happen.
But I did have that moment of pure fetish while contemplating some old lovers like Pipilotti Rist and Erwin Wurm. Or that strange feeling (I confess, I didn’t analyse it yet) when I see something from Damien Hirst.
Really good new one for me:
…and to finish this fucking art overdose in an exceptional way:
The perfect mirror for all of this and the main feeling after all:
P.S.- of course I didn’t pay the 50pounds (!) to get in. I had a fake press pass.
Soy incurable; aunque haya gozado de todas las cosas buenas de la vida, durante casi toda mi vida, aunque ya nos las valore o me hagan disfrutar en sí mismas, todavía me complace la idea que tengo de ellas. Abrazo, con deleite extático, la adversidad y las privaciones; deseo todo lo que guarda el mundo; iría a la prisión o al cadalzo, sólo por tener esa experiencia. Nunca me abondonó la creencia infantil de que el mundo estaba creado para que lo exprimiese. Pierdo la razón con solo pensar en los horrores deliciosos e inevitables que me aguardan. Esta es la clave de mi vida: el deleite sin trabas en cada posibilidad que brinda la existencia, potencial o real.
-Aleister Crowley
Whatever is fitted in any sort to excite the ideas of pain, and danger, that is to say, whatever is in any sort terrible, or is conversant about terrible objects, or operates in a manner analogous to terror, is a source of the sublime; that is, it is productive of the strongest emotion which the mind is capable of feeling.
This is my hometown on fire. Most of the fires have been started by local demented people.
So… this terror and caos is the perfect environment to present the new fascinating video from Grinderman, directed by John Hillcoat. A, not so, surrealist vision of our world:
