Friday, August 30, 2013


I just woke up gasping and shaking. In my dream, my husband showed me these photos he had been taking, or maybe they were paintings. They were kind of beautiful in a way. Women were artfully arranged, but swollen, bruised, contorted into impossible angles. He told me he wanted to show me how he made them. Somehow he had been acquiring fresh cadavers, and then slowly and purposefully beating the shit out of them and arranging them into still life. Bruising was his paint, and swelling and breaking was his sculpture.

He told me women, always women,started donating their bodies to him. That he had a cult following.  Sometimes he would put out a request for a republican, or a farmer, or a cat person. Something he would later incorporate into the image.
While he's explaining, he gently breaks  her nose. Then he punches it again and again. He caves one of her cheekbones in with a small hammer. He continues hitting and breaking until I start to cry. I ask him to stop. Tell him I can't watch this. It feels wrong. I can't be here. I can't believe you do this. He laughs at me. He says I'm being silly. Nobody is being hurt. It's art. I say I just never imagined he could do something like this. He accuses me of being old fashioned and foolish. Of believing in god. I suddenly feel like he's a stranger.  A dangerous insane person beating up dead girls to arrange on our bed. I can't breathe. I don't know whether to run or cry.

Then he starts to cry and says I'm right. He must be a bad person, then the self pity turns into anger he yells that at me that I'm a such an idiot. That people love this. I feel trapped between grief and self defense. I wake up covered in sweat, shaking, gasping. And after I calm down, I'm inspired. I haven't painted in two weeks. That has become too long.

I only slept 4 hours. But I don't think I'll be falling back asleep. Is it because I fell asleep listening to classical music? Too much Dexter and Breaking Bad?  Now I'm thinking of taxidermy and Body worlds and "The Kiss."  Gross. Yuck. Ew. Violence. The art of violence. Necroviolent still life. What a band name!

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