Art is created out of love and blood

Art is created out of love and blood. And blood and love and more blood. And air. Even in a world of multiples, all I feel are multiple forms of desire. 

It’s nuts to think that rules should not be broken. Once upon a time art was made about people that everyone recognised — like kings, queens and princesses, and even their dogs were famous. Now the person in the artwork has to be a nobody. So I don’t break the rules, I make art-love to nobody. 

The protagonist stands amidst his domestic abbreviation looking like a spare part. The hoodie thing he’s wearing in every shot is a description of the social order. It’s not amazing that a single garment can be a work of camouflage, worn by someone who wants to fit in but cannot (fit in). 

Rich boys wear expensive clothes and poor boys wear cheap, but these days it all looks the same. I mean, I can tell the difference but why bother?

The Cloak of Invisibility is passed down through generations, it is not a weapon because it is a hiding place. It is a thing that renders all things possible, because it eradicates the implausible.