Between the endless azure sky, ringing with clarity, and the gold-specked, blood-flecked dirt, jagged and portentous, our players enact a war-ritual. The artist–the sorceress who stalks this ruined temple–orders her man to fire bullet holes into her artwork. “Each bullet hole is a portal into the immortal,” to achieve immortality, infinitude, to become one with the sky, one must become an artwork, to dive into those bullet hole portals. Violence as artwork. Artwork as alchemy. — J EVERETT
“divine” – “dissection” – “perforated” — The Yellow King
“pasquinade” — Sean Kilpatrick
Postcards from The Big Empty — EMPTYCOLLECTIVE
Touring a Few Porn Utopias — PFG
Trying to Talk with a Man About Nuclear Armageddon: Adrienne Rich & the Nuclear Gothic — Dawson Wohler
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