to index

 

FROM THE CONFESSIONS OF A. /
A_PHOTO_MONOLOGUE

"Like father like son ! Like mother like daughter ! Itīs always the same !
In my mind I know that I have confidence in her. That sheīs not making my mistakes.

I had my part of the glamourus life. The night people, the fashion army, the hangers on.
I canīt stop the images. They come, they invade me. Strikes me like lightning.

The white lady. The brown sugar. The needle candy.
The horse junk scag shit smack coke snow skin-popping mainlining pill-popping ...

Itīs like a poison. I know. You make love to the camera. You canīt stop, you get more and more obsessed with the camera. With yourself. The great manipulator. Vanity.

I feel she has the right hardness, the survival instincts.
The images of her are filled with that, the hard light, back alleys, filthy nails.
She looks like a young Twiggy on the bum. A heroine gypsy ... anorectic and depressed ... yeah, but strong! "

 

 

 

 

 

ACROPHOBIA / video

Naked feet on a wooden surface. In between the windwashed wooden boards we see the ground below. Beach grass, rocks.

Slow motion sequence of falling, floating in between the beach towers top and ground. Like a drunken wingshot bird.

Feet balancing on the rails of the tower. Safely, securly.