bathroom is disgusting and i need it and i go in there. a piss or a shit and hurried movements, for perhaps another will come in this private place,that isn't mine..i use it.they use it to.nobody ever feels quiet clean. but this is my moment right now. i feel free on a base level in here. honesty and direct by-products of me. the walls are connections of everyone's own little universe.
putting art in here. i realize the challenge of my serious joke. it is bigger and more saturated than me. its feeling is stronger and i must acquiesce to that. i work with what is here and pull from it .Blur the reasons of why do this with an addressal of presentations and positioning. position my shit directly,this is me. am i worth noticing?
the bathroom commands me,tho. i feel the need to work to only extend it. it will force a connection back to itself, and each persons approach to it. a bathroom, a place to communicate, like a log in a commode, a blog where you comment.
i went into the bathroom to install art because i thought art placed in a bathroom,not so much curated,but editing the bathroom,an involved way that is sarcastic but serious, is trying to say something about -strangely enough-the internet. how we communicate anymore.
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