Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Rain Dogs

I have been making dogs. They are play-actors in some orgiastic mess.
I am interested in the gesture of the dog's body, where the squat, with the haunches as fulcrum, is assumed for shitting as it is for humping and being humped. This illustrates the proximity of shit to sex (loci in the pelvis, stretch and strain, 'discharge' [fluid and matter/release: ejection or orgasm]). I'm thinking about the fervor in being pleasured and in being disgusted.

Each is drawn on its own tract of cheap poster bond. I spray the paper with water until it is soaked through and adheres loosely to the wall. I draw the dogs in water-soluble black crayon and pull shadows from the pitch with my hand or a rag. When they are dry, I 'let them out' with a razor blade.
Sometimes the black bleed tags along.

The best part is arranging them. It feels theatrical and a little soap-operatic, making many relationships concurrent inside one drama. There are no two dogs of the same breed.

I am accepting my need to sometimes cut figures out. I like them to be sort of straw men, have some 'real' citizenship. They have to be bodies, not just be pictures of bodies.

Happy Thanksgiving the dog a bone.