"Eyes are nothing but slimy beasts looking from behind"
The photos document the most primitive and instinctive conditions of humanity. The tone is acid: it talks about the vulnerable excess of desire, the insatiable hunger for pleasure on the edge of suffering, about violation towards the flesh, joy throughout offense, the eternal return towards the visceral, the morbid by wounding and being wounded.
I have let my sick, timeworn feet
Fall down the path of disenchantment.
Men have inherited the thirst of my ancestors,
The killer fear my ambiguous body gives,
The doomed face of my senseless night.
Where did my father´s name rest
When I was a child
And yet a woman?
The bitter, howling cry
My throat contains
Has ran so far….
A flower claims for my mouth,
Without even knowing
There is no flower
No laughter to stand my muddy eyes,
Or my sin covered by the hidden secret of my starving lust.