Corinna Helenelund
1985, Helsinki
sculpture

The door opens (up the gutter).
J is standing by the road, smudged feet defrosting the field into a soil sauce, stomping up juicy bubbles. Sip to taste the message, it will go straight into the stomach, and it might be possible to really truly painfully profoundly suck it up. 

It came about while remodeling the subconscious, the lights went out and the eyes opened, liquid darkness swamped the dry lips and absorbed the tired face as she whispered in my ear: "your mind is a nightmare that has been eating you: now eat your mind."