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The Diary Of My Interval Child

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One drop of experiment and I understand the great thing about the ache, the worth of the interval, fertilizing my complete being. The periodic elimination of my ovum with my menstrual circulation impressed me to provide beginning to one thing which has a organic

The periodic elimination of my ovum with my menstrual circulation impressed me to provide beginning to one thing which has a organic finish, and to create the beginning of the tip.

Instruments: tampon, fingers. Supplies/substances: menstrual circulation, canvas. Length: 9 months.

Month 1

Greater than 50 shades of crimson, and the continual transformation of it, reaching a fragile coloration palette with that harmless angle.

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Month 2

Month three

“I’m a bit shy…don’t count on to see my genital…don’t have expectations in any respect. Simply settle for me independently from my sexual orientation, my pores and skin tone or my non secular views…”

Month four

The worth of the interval turns into some unusual form, and the drop will get bigger and bigger, reserving the entire canvas residency…

Month 5

“Take a look at this easy canvas, the snug womb of mine, which makes me keep so lengthy, possibly perpetually…”

Month 6

One other month… and the invasion of the drops rapes the virgin floor of the canvas.

Month 7

What’s in your thoughts? Curiosity? Admiration? Disgust? Too many ideas? Nothing in any respect? Perhaps the identical important substance that you would be able to see right here outlining my head form…

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Month eight

“I can really feel the stress and your disagreeable ache, however I’m trying ahead to be born, to be the beginning of your finish…”

Month 9

“The final month, and there’s no probability to be misplaced…”

When an ‘ovum dies’ an paintings is born

“I’ve no preconceptions, no expectations, however I do know I’ve a mission, even when I can’t see, discuss or breathe, however you may see, discuss, and even breathe as an alternative of me too…”

The natural connection between the paintings and the artist

The maternal intuition… the new child… the essence.

The particular software and the particular substance

Feeling full

My first self-portrait masterpiece of menstrual circulation.

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