
Vaginas turn into penises, penises into vaginas, vaginas into … Or is it just a blossom after all? Lots of modification, morphing, twisting. The common denominator: grace.
Vaginas turn into penises, penises into vaginas, vaginas into … Or is it just a blossom after all? Lots of modification, morphing, twisting. The common denominator: grace.
The dream of the end of immigration from Mexico in eight architectural prototypes. Beige, blue, concrete, steel, ridiculous against the backdrop of an unlimited landscape.
At full tilt and brightly surrealistic, this narrative flow circles around questions concerning a death. An electronically charged, garish chamber play. In the leading role: the subconscious, it seems.