Daisy Love

The pull of the black square, the luminous screen, both a window and a mirror has been ever more persistent in our consciousness. Increasingly our presence only felt when mediated through a lens or an app or an algorithm, an intermediary of our existence. Creeping derealisation.

The body and all it's interiors. Pushing back against the idolisation of the body as an immutable object to be sanitised and preserved. Not a doll to be put on a shelf and admired. The body - not as a temple - but a playground to be entered, spread, explored. Slippery openings, spit and flesh and hair. Playing in the mess. Limbs merging, breaching the boundaries of the internal. Entering each other, going where you shouldn’t, merging form.