like watching a needle pierce the severed skin of an accident victim -- i never seemed to have a problem with it.
i wondered if they had issues looking at the mutating pieces of their souls.
almost like their own eyes were medusa's, and the slightest look inside would turn them to stone.
well...
i've turned to stone.
many times.
what they forgot to tell you,
is that stone can melt.
and metal gold burns its way to the surface.
+ + + + +
i can't take credit for finding out about artist damien hirst myself.
i suppose he entered my life in the manner most things do --
osmosis. naturally.
here's a taste of the horror he can provide so delicately.
"adam and eve under the table"
"sacred xvii"
"beautiful inside my head forever"
"the broken dream"
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