Cold stays the wrinkle to take stock of folds overlapping, be it the torso, or the brow and covets the conceal. Protection invented against the elements, but what protection is offered against our own malicious luck?
Online ordering demonstrates alienation in its purest context. Submitting the consumer to one-click fantasies, like a magician on retainer, POOF! Pull back the curtain and the product appears on one’s doorstep, cardboard capped, begging to be eviscerated.
Factory hands, wiggle inside welder gloves, assembling the button-mashing-glass- case. Preparing the handoff to a delivery driver, who curls their toes in winter apparel, trudging through the cold to place the item outside its new home. A shoulder shrug “thank you” from the consumer and its back to shopping. This cycle monetizes the Earth’s rotation. “Your package is on in its way!” Measuring minutes to elaborate the destination from here to there; attesting that the consumer never had it this good.
The procedure which designed this convenience assembled itself by accident. Elaborating the metaphor of humanity’s assemblage, birthed by coincidence, in allegiance with space-dust and luck. Setting off the repetition to duplicate the accident creation wrought.
The painter studies the model, posing nude before them and examines the features relevant to shading and color. They appropriate shadows, hiding in the model’s sunken cheeks, into their masterpiece, by adding black puddles to emphasize the gauntness overtaking the model’s frown. The painter is known for this. Exasperating the human frame to demonstrate an alliance between animal and element, revealing smiles in sunsets and booty shakes in conjecture to the moon’s tides. The painter turns on their stool to dip a brush in paint, from off their palette. They fall forward and to catch balance, place their hands before them, flipping the palette end over end, where it strikes the canvas and splatters Pollack blotches across their fantasy.
“Oh no!” They exclaim. “It’s ruined.”
The model covers themselves with a bathrobe, approaches their portrait and holds a twinkle in their eye.
“I like it.” They say.
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