One of my many unrealized projects
A number of years ago I saw a headline on the front of an evening paper. It read ‘Dublin girl sells soul for drugs’. Its a phrase which stayed with me, it generated an image in my mind of a track- suit glad young woman, trainers, big hoop earrings, hair pulled tightly back from her face into a pony tail. Yes I admit it, a clichéd image. She was handing over her soul to a ‘shadowy figure’ a form that never became anything other then the words ‘shadowy figure’. She had placed her soul into a small brown paper bag, this became mixed up in my mind with a story from one of those cheap English magazines, like ‘take a break’ which specialize in ‘real life’ stories sent in by readers who are paid a small fee for their tales of slashings, burnings, rape, mayhem, mutilations and deformations. There are also pictures of dogs, cats and tattooed men with their tops off. This story concerned some one who had liposuction (unfortunately probably DIY), a photograph of a kidney shaped tray full of fat, accompanied it, but ‘bizarrely’ (or perhaps ‘miraculously’ I can’t remember the exact wording) the patients weight remained exactly the same after the procedure. My tele-sales co-workers and I joked that the ‘surgeon’ had sucked out her soul. So the Dublin girl handed over her soul, in the form of fat to the devil the traditional buyer of souls, in exchange for hard drugs (they would have to be hard for a soft fat soul). The headline itself called out to me to be made more material in the form of a pink circular Naumenesque neon piece.
Dublin girl sells soul for drugs
I applied to the arts council for funding to realize this project; they refused to give it to me. It slipped my mind.
One of my many unrealized projects
A number of years ago I saw a headline on the front of an evening paper. It read ‘Dublin girl sells soul for drugs’. Its a phrase which stayed with me, it generated an image in my mind of a track- suit glad young woman, trainers, big hoop earrings, hair pulled tightly back from her face into a pony tail. Yes I admit it, a clichéd image. She was handing over her soul to a ‘shadowy figure’ a form that never became anything other then the words ‘shadowy figure’. She had placed her soul into a small brown paper bag, this became mixed up in my mind with a story from one of those cheap English magazines, like ‘take a break’ which specialize in ‘real life’ stories sent in by readers who are paid a small fee for their tales of slashings, burnings, rape, mayhem, mutilations and deformations. There are also pictures of dogs, cats and tattooed men with their tops off. This story concerned some one who had liposuction (unfortunately probably DIY), a photograph of a kidney shaped tray full of fat, accompanied it, but ‘bizarrely’ (or perhaps ‘miraculously’ I can’t remember the exact wording) the patients weight remained exactly the same after the procedure. My tele-sales co-workers and I joked that the ‘surgeon’ had sucked out her soul. So the Dublin girl handed over her soul, in the form of fat to the devil the traditional buyer of souls, in exchange for hard drugs (they would have to be hard for a soft fat soul). The headline itself called out to me to be made more material in the form of a pink circular Naumenesque neon piece.
Dublin girl sells soul for drugs
I applied to the arts council for funding to realize this project; they refused to give it to me. It slipped my mind.