Sister Bondage is this sister who spend her days crossing the streets, big and small streets At the periphery of any big city With her fist raised high, and her white nun veil, and her glasses on.
Her fist is heavy, her fist is crude, it’s bones, shells and little colourfull metalic shitty links that cling, silencious – it is a spell, cast yeah, a spell on her arm – a spell, why and whom, we don’t know.
She wants to heal them all, people She wants revolution, with her bony fist raised so high in the streets when she walks, but instead they all get a hard-on – that’s how it is and how it happens.
This morning she takes a shower and sings:
A still – Volcano – Life –
That flickered in the night –
– Adorable sorceress,
do you love the damned?
Tell it, fair sorceress, O! tell it, if you know,
To this spirit filled with anguish,
So like a dying man crushed beneath the wounded
Who is struck by the horses’ shoes;
Tell it, fair sorceress, O! tell it, if you know
– Two warriors rushed upon each other;
their arms Spattered the air
A pit – but Heaven over it
And Heaven beside
And Heaven abroad
Twas Universe – that did applaud –
Myself distinguished God
– This abyss, it is hell, thronged with our friends!
Let us roll there without remorse
Exhibition: 02/04/16 – 25/06/16
Curator: Dorothé Orczyk