I'm an expression artist.
My work could not be displayed in a museum and would not include actual artifacts.
Time and space are my canvas.
I create moments.
Built up situations.
I bring meaning into my actions.
Every situation is directed down to it's details.
There's a storyline and script for every moment I express.
Seems like I live a sequence of creations.
Like a Vaudeville performer.
An audience is accidental.
Between me and myself or between me and the world – the show must go on.
A perceptive eye can capture a true reference.
I'm Patti Smith in a wide brim hat on my way to the market.
I'm Audrey Hepburn in a striped shirt sitting on the balcony.
I'm Lady Gaga when I'm dying my hair.
I'm Charlie Chaplin sipping wine, alone on New Year's Eve.
It's tragic really.
How much I am aware of my existence.
Is it still art if I can't sell it?
|Happy New Year! ["The Gold Rush"/ Charlie Chaplin]|
♡ ϟ Fellaw Expression Artist: