Category: Image

Paint Suicide

6/22/2018

Ugh, I went too far with this one. I posted it on Facebook because I thought it was cool. A tube of paint, full of color, splatters on a canvas after shooting itself. It's blood spatter becomes art. So all art can be seen as a voluntary splattering of blood/feelings/characters etc. We dig deep and what bubbles to the surface might as well be the essence of ourselves that makes our body go.

But there's another way to look at it and it made me sick. Suicide as art. Suicide creating art. Something positive from suicide. The tube of ink has been squeezed and squeezed until it is half empty. It's crinkled and bunched. It looks worn out and exhausted. It has given and given and has little left to give. So it shoots itself onto a canvas. Perhaps that's a statement about art and its failures and what it takes from the artist: "You want art, I'll give you art, so hang that on your walls you greedy motherfuckers."

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Skin and Muscle Removal: 23rd Century Plastic Surgery Trends, a prose piece

6/21/2018

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It was the latest thing: skin and muscle removal, complete exposure of bones, including the head. (Plastic surgery, even in the 23rd century, still marches on).

They met at a wedding. In those days, weddings could get rather risqué. Some were as sanctified as a mass, and others requiring, at the reception, consummation and turn-taking with the bride. These two met at the latter.

The reception hadn’t yet achieved the “bride and groom’s first dance” portion of the evening. They met at the buffet. It’s astounding how much easier it is to flirt and be honest when one doesn’t have a face. It’s less than a mask and more of an extreme statement of naked truth. No need to worry about blushing or bad skin or splotchy complexions.

He owned a brothel and she designed and manufactured prostitutes. In fact, he his company preferred her prostitutes to others because of their human warmth and animated facial expressions.

These two didn’t bang at the reception as everyone else did. They took the taboo option of sneaking away and getting breakfast at Denny’s for their 4am Pancakes and Porn special (all the pancakes you can eat with porn on every TV). To the sounds of people fucking loudly and with fake enthusiasm in the background, and smushing their pancakes into a pools of syrup, they honestly told one another about every terrible thing they’ve ever done.

To their relief, they discovered they weren’t terrible after all, as the other didn’t storm out offended.

Did they eventually bang? Did they become friends? Did they dismantle any other parts of their body?

All that is important, really, is that they never kissed. They couldn’t without lips. But that was fine because kissing had always presaged danger and misery. And these two managed to avoid that.

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The Countess Robusta's
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Paint Suicide

Skin and Muscle Removal: 23rd Century Plastic Surgery Trends, a prose piece

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The Countess Robusta'sBlend of the Day

Paint Suicide

Skin and Muscle Removal: 23rd Century Plastic Surgery Trends, a prose piece

Subscribe to this blog at Feedburner:

Countess Robusta

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The Countess Robusta's
Blend of the Day