Performance Art Museum

The messy friction of a good party was achieved, even if questions remain.

She stutters and spits, wrestling with each syllable. A linguistic motor is erupting inside of her, driving continuous speech. Text and signifiers appear as a dualistic avalanche, an unnatural fit in this body.

Within a black lace–slipped theatrical space—itself a historical body—a staggering quasi-human enters stage left, fronting enormous, buoyant, transparent mammary glands, groaning and slowly sloshing toward the balcony stairs before collapsing with a guttural groan in seeming exhaustion, leaking her juices and fluids.