Conjoined Ambivalency

New watercolor, and the first that wasn’t done all in one sitting:

This one being a musing on tendencies towards self-destruction versus tendencies towards self-healing, coexisting within the same entity. One side controls the razor, the other waits patiently with the gauze. Both look pretty nonplussed about the whole thing. Of course this isn’t the first time I’ve visited the conjoined twin motif:

This is a drawing I did in the mental hospital, with a pack of those 99 cent store markers for kids that my Dad brought to me. And constant dabbing of napkins in water to blend the colors with, because they wouldn’t give me a brush. Yet I could have markers. I’m sure whatever the hell they thought I would do with a brush, I could figure out how to do with a marker. Maybe they were concerned I could take apart that little metal bit that holds the bristles in place, I dunno. They also gave me these little foam slippers with smiley faces on the front that would look up at you. At the time their falseness made me angry but now I kind of wish I still had a pair for the sheer stupidity of outfitting the suicidal/schizo-affective in such apparel. It’s kind of the most hilarious bit of propaganda placement I’ve ever seen our culture dish up. The only thing that could have topped it is if they’d been stamped with the goddamn “Mickey Mouse ear” logo.

Of course, the happy slippers were pretty damn useless if you didn’t watch out for this one woman who liked to pee all over the floor and give the orderlies extra work. Frustration of feeling captive, I guess, but the poor orderlies. Anyway, if you didn’t notice and walked in the puddle before they got to clean it up those useless propaganda slippers were soaked through straight away. Yuck.

Speaking of “positivity propaganda”, the next best thing is this creepy children’s hypnosis tape from god-knows-when. You WILL be HAPPY!

(There’s a similar recording with music added by Boyd Rice and Daniel Miller. But I find it far more menacing just standing on it’s own, don’t you?)


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