AE I Don't Think About You At All

I Don’t Think About You At All
October 31, 2024.
Materials: art panel, inkjet print, gouache, acrylic paint, recycled lace and mesh (torn underwear)

Original + Print available

Original is A4 size: 210 mm x 297 mm / 8.3 in x 11.7 in

Print is A3 size: 297 mm x 420 mm / 29.7 cm x 42 cm / 11.7 in x 16.5 in

Two Print options are available:

$35
Coated Matte paper
Printed in Lewes, UK
300 gsm
Archival 4-color ink
Signed

$45
Coated Photographic Satin paper
Printed in Lewes, UK
300 gsm
Archival 4-color ink
Giclee print
Signed

The Story:

The first image in a mixed media collaboration with my friend @ulric_joseph referencing work we created 15 years ago. We’ve come so far and so much has changed for us and the world since then that it felt like the right time to revisit this project and ask the question, “what is truly erotic now?”.

I’ve got so much to say and write and yell on this topic but to start I’ll say that anything real and valuable should be a two-way experience that is positive for all involved consenting adult parties. Anything less than that is a form of exploitation and isn’t acceptable.

This work and topic drudged a lot of my past up to the surface, with anger being the emotion sitting right on top. So expect some angry, confrontational messages. As a (multiple) SA survivor, being able to revisit this period in my life from a safe distance and take ownership of the narrative has been empowering in a way I didn’t know I needed. I thought I’d been over all of this already. But here we are.

I hope it alienates TF out of anyone who has ever committed SA and resonates with anyone who has been on the receiving end. We can tell our stories. We can point fingers. We don’t have to be afraid.

The body is not meant for consumption.

I say that with so much literal and figurative distance from my own attackers. I know not everyone feels safe disclosing their experiences when the perpetrators might still be nearby. But your time will come. And I hope when that time arrives you aren’t afraid to scream it and shed tears openly and slash tires about it.

It can’t be a stigma when everyone I know has their own story.