Breaking the apple with your forehead! I remember that! I knew we were going to have a future together when you suddenly did that on the coffee table somewhere in Baku. I meant to write that before, I don’t ever want to forget it, so I wrote it down, for the record.
Where were we? With our respective works, the last time we were both here; a furball, a fox ?
I thought for tonight, I’d post up some images of the most recent incarnation of Fox Cub which I performed for Winter Rites in London in February.
A thought. An ‘animal’ performance piece, this time involving both of us. Something we could not do alone. Ever thought about how if you tie two people together it’s easy to think of a horse or some other four legged thing, immediately. The results being possibly gracefully restrained and perfectly timed, possibly injured. Tragicomic probably. Thinking the dark side of slapstick together with genuine wanting it to be convincing, to be a horse. A costume is not even necessary. I love our awkward chemistry as it is. We should try this! Sort of the opposite of never thinking about the fact that Claude Cahun was shaven most of the time and that everything else was a fake. All that hair. Horned curls of wet black, blonde plastic plaits. Shaven by night.
Let me know what you’re thinking. About.
It’s raining in London. Again.
(Photos by Julia Suermondt, mostly, the blonde woman with the bite marks in the above photo, so this is not one of hers.)