Are You Interested in One of Our Daughters

I'm in a room with a family. They're all singing and are intense, on the verge of being aggressive with me. They're followers of tiny Hitler. There's a mother, a father and their 2 adult daughters. I'm being pushed around the rooms with their presence. I pick up sharp shears and knives as protection. They sit around the table with the radio on low. We have to hum the song. The mother is telling me how beautiful my voice is and asking the children to repeat it, “It's beautiful, isn't it?”. In front of everyone is a plastic beaker full of water. It's swampy coloured. I'm to pierce this water elegantly and in my own way, my own shapes and moves. If all the water drained, they would die. I stabbed the one in front of the girl to my right on the water line, so only some leaked. They say that they expected something more flamboyant and less direct. But they think I'm doing it on purpose. I don't know what they expect of me. I do the same to the other girl’s beaker. The song ends soon, and I haven't killed anyone, but they are not displeased. Everyone is moving around, and I'm now trying to make my way out without getting hurt or hurting anyone. The mother is asking if I am interested in one of their daughters. She said she saw the way I was looking at them and asked if I would like to leave my number.

Oil & Oil Pastel on Paper.

Size: 50 W x 70 H cm

Purchase The Original Painting

Purchase Prints