We’re all trapped in flesh. To me, it’s horror. But, it can always get worse.
Russel Cameron‘s sculptures are blobby pieces of flesh that are simultaneously wrong and alive-looking. When someone talks about eating vat-grown protein, I imagine that this is what it really looks like before it’s ground up and texturized.
Lovecraft would have gotten great enjoyment from this stuff.
It’s polymer clay, but my mind imagines that it’s squishy. And if you squeeze it, it makes mewling noises.
Then there’s Evan Campbell. I stumbled across his work years ago; he does sculpting for special effects.
Elsewhere in his gallery, the gelatine head is presented un-painted. It’s amazing what a good paint-job will do to sell the realism and texture of a sculpture.
This surfaces all my inner fears of crippling damage, arthritic joints, muscle spasms, broken bones that make things draw up and become very painful. A few years ago I broke my jaw and had to walk around for a couple of days with the bottom taped up (so it wouldn’t swing and grind) without painkillers (I didn’t want them to mask infection if the CSF leaking from my ear turned out to be a portal for infection) – when I see Campbell’s sculpture above, I feel the grinding of bone on bone where cartilage has failed. Those of us getting older all feel that, every morning, when it’s time to get out of bed and we have to negotiate with our various joints to see if we’re going to get to do anything that day.
In Thailand there is a bakery that specializes in bread as body parts. I’m surprised this cannibalism by proxy hasn’t caught on in the US.
I do not want my bagel to look like that, even if it’s covered in butter.
Memento Mori – reminders that we are flesh, and will fail as flesh does. Perhaps it’s a form of antidote to Kurzweilian nonsense about immortality through uploading. Wouldn’t we miss being incarnated in all that yummy squishy flesh?