Tuesday, April 22, 2008


Am almost sufficiently recovered to do the final update of the Curdle experience. Took more out of me than I thought…

Well, got up early to await the arrival of various pieces of art and person. Holly and Liam were first to arrive, bearing poems and fetching food. Then Leesa with the photos, Matt with DVD, Alexis with music, and Sam with wicked intentions and alcohol swabs. When all put together, the tally of pieces to experience at CurdleD on Saturday night:

* Film that I did with Matt and Frank and the Nymphettes, turned into a late-night ‘Let me tell your milky fortune’ advertisement. Hilarious.

* Five pictures from the photo shoot with Leesa, of milk jugs and Moo-Zoo’s reincarnation.

* Slideshow of all the photos Emmy took of the piercings I did with Tam.

* Projection of the Hera film I did last year with MimInBoots.

* Mixed CD of milk songs put together by Alexis, including My Milkshake, No Milk Today and some Spanish kids thing about a giant cow or something.

* Poetry reading by Goatman, aka Liam. Bloody good, and funny, and insightful for one so young and precocious. Yes, we are ALL MOTHERSUCKERS!

* Philosophical rantings from behind a screen by the ridiculous Necrotitties, appearing for one night only as NecroMilkies- all French and fluid.

* Poem by Holly, written out and hung on the way with her breast print.

* Instructions for how to make invisible ink from milk, written in my own breastmilk and ironed until it showed up.

* Four photos by Sam K of my Divine Bovine show last year at Hellfire.

* Collection of nursing pads, written on by visitors both before and during the night.

* Milky Memories book, containing thoughts from visitors.

And then there was the cupping performance. Ah, the cupping! Set up the scene in the back room, two chairs, blacked out walls and window and set up the surveillance cameras so that it showed in black and white on two monitors outside in the main gallery. In essence, Sam made five cuts on my chest and tummy with a needle, then cupped each of them as she went along. They filled up with blood quite admirably, and it was hard to stay still. Cupping is an odd sensation, a slow pinch that gradually feels like a bruise. Delicious! And all I can do keep from dropping completely into some sort of happy lala land, but know I have to keep on going when I look down and see the cups filling up with blood. Soon it is crunch-time, the moment I have been waiting for. Will milk fill the cups when we place them on my nipples? First one goes on, doesn’t clamp hard enough, no milk. Second one- ‘we have milk!’. Wooohoooo! Re-do the first one, and this time it works, so that I have fulfilled my dream of having blood and milk cups… it looks and feel wonderful, I get Sam to help me to my feet and I wander into the audience to cheers and more photographs. Back into the room, with a slurp the cups come off leaving congealed blood-jelly and drying milk…

Then happy-high Zoo stumbles back into the crowd for drinking and schmoozing and eating sugary cakes and cavorting, before closing up the gallery and heading into Phoenix for a quick dance and an early-ish night. Nice to be outside again, but somehow I miss being CurdleD.



Anonymous Anonymous said...

On the cupping:

Cu(n)ts speak together, not across a wound as chasm but through (m)other's bleeding, lactating BwO: "You are red. And so very white. Both at once. You don't become red by loosing your candid whiteness. You are white because you have remained close to blood. White and red at once, we give birth to all the colours, pinks, browns, blondes, greens, blues... Luminous, without autarchy, it gives back as much as it receives". (Irigaray, 1985: 207)

Despite Daddy's protests ;-)

8:13 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I don't understand your arts concept. even after reading your entire blog I'm not sure why you're doing what you're doing. Not that I think you need an excuse to do as you please, but it seems you want to say something with this. Or are you just bored?

6:34 pm  

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