bmw sales and event center, munich, germany. coop himmelblau

you want me to feed you something, well i am not going to feed you anything, i am going to make a mess, you can have back what you have given me, what i have turned it into, let this misshapen dream be a cog in this mess you have built around me, your opaque city, i have had to get lost in it, be threatened by it, alienated, ‘warmed’ by beige and grey, and draw something on every opaque surface, behind which you conceal your grand narrative, which even you do not understand, i dont propose to understand what i do either, but i propose that it is not a palliation, that i will not give you something that you can swallow, or photograph, or quip, or inhabit, lean against, sell, market, or hide behind, because i will let cats vomit on it, let my work stain it, i will fall asleep on it, i will keep it in my back pocket until it falls to blank pieces, then i will let you pick them up and put them back together, i wont pretend to understand, because i know that you dont, and i wont pretend that you will make it yours, or that you would even think that it was your right to give it your livelihood, as long as you dont expect me to ignore what you have constructed around me.

…and if i have to watch one more little bird die on the sidewalk with its neck broken while people gawk and make light of it, i will burn your world to cinders.