FLUX

1998, warehouse, River Street, Melbourne

Soon I won’t even need a name. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

The street has no beginning nor end: it is a detached segment
swimming in a fuzzy aura and complete in itself. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

Hence-forward we will walk split into myriad fragments. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

Low visibility accompanied by gales of laughter. No new stars on the horizon. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

I touch the wall beside me, tear a little strip from the poster that is pasted to the wall.
I hold the strip of paper in my hand a moment, then crumple it into a tiny pill and flip it in the gutter. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

I wore a velvet suit because velvet was the order of the day. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

From now on, ladies and gentlemen, you are entering Mexico. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

The fever in our bones at the soft, burning touch of a hand.
Here there is buried legend after legend of youth and melancholy. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

The theatre burns and the actors go on mouthing their lines. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

One can feel his way about, take bearings, observe passing phenomena;
one can even feel at home. But there is no taking root. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

To go mad you must have a terrific accumulation of sanities. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

The night too grows like an electric plant, shooting white-hot buds into velvet black space. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

I move in a golden hum through a syrup of warm lazy bodies. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm

This is the moment when the deserted street on which I have chosen to sit
is throbbing with people and all the crowded streets are empty. 1998
oil and acrylic gesso on wood, 190 x 60 cm