These are from a series of watercolour and graphite sketches that I did in July 2000 on the Island of Belle Ile of the coast of Brittany in France.
I was fresh out of the NAS and my practices at the time consisted of a series of soft sculpture replica vulvas which I showed in a number of shows in Sydney in early 2000.
How do you convey emotion, frenzy, stupidity overtiredness on a goddamm preformatted preset fixed font frame? Partly its paranoia - so my words don't get cut and pasted in some morons bloody plagiarised essay, or some clever dicks plagiarsied bloody thesis, but mostly - I wnat you to stumble and trip and slide through my slurring, slipping, striding, screaming missives, as I type them. Life is always more interesting in the cracks between stuff.
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