Harem

Henry Matisse, quotation marks included. We are the post-post. We are pulverized. Far beyond liquid. “When you can’t be Shakespeare, when you can’t be Joyce, what is left instead?”, Lou Reed sang. Epigoni. Those who came later. The offspring. Future lies behind us. So take it as a merry trick, no will to substitute for the original, and no mocking too. Just a declaration of what we are now. “No future”, The Sex Pistols sang. Though seemingly gentle, this painting is a philosophical declaration of rage.