A manifesto in consideration for the anti-aesthetics of art in food.
You see, or will eventually come to, most people want their food, their expression, their physical representation of what lies beneath to be the perfectly picked apple in the garden, the dew still glistening upon the waxy skin calling to mind the virginal offering to you: the eater, the consumer, the audience.
We stand shadowless to negate that pristine standard of high society engaging in art for pay.
yeah, once upon a time, we were the world; you and i, fleshless, static, inviolable, anti-sentimental (my PIN was our anniversary, but wrong). you worked and you talked while i knelt and undid the knot between yr knees. those were the days, paisley crazy & always late. i was never in my body, at all; we never met eye to eye, no regrets for what was never even poorly understood.