GREEN MAN / GREEN WOMAN




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Monologues can be so oppressive, discursive modes grow, acceptance of mutability, your green nature, allows knowledge to thrive.

He’s right green him


The green man can’t have any victims now or his verdancy will become sickly.


Let’s say that naivety is a winner, and the desire to learn is what makes this so - as a presupposition I criticise a lack of social empathy, but symbolically there is joy (I’m going to say it) and there is fear, and there is shame, (it’s coming) and it is embraced which makes pleasure (there is jouissance) to be found in liminality.

Do you remember how it feels just before you’re about to know something?













I stuck twigs up my nostrils and my nose bled - I’ve never really had a proper nose bleed, but once I woke up and there was lots of blood on the pillow where my nose had been. It was after something horrible happened - I never think that my body is disconnected from words.




This feels like it’s all getting a bit too romantic.

I’m really sad you’re not a boy. That would be so good.




As a cultural, mythical figure, the Green Man can be both frightening and ‘gay’.

Joy lies in renewal and all the verdant abundance represented, but there is also a kind of sick Pantheistic awe that terrifies. Interconnectedness can be both terrifying and merry.


Bells jingling on cuffs and staffs, bells melancholically signifying the processions of Erl-Kings and the uncrowning of real Kings, of Troika. The jest always leads to knowledge of what is best. Yet it is this subversive power of masquerade that interests most; surely anyone can be uncrowned, surely anyone can be punished and sent to the stocks in retaliation of feudal persistence. If woman can embrace grotesquerie in opposition to ideals of purity, of closed holes and moral cleanliness, then the imposition of such ideals can too be uncrowned. Crowning here there and everywhere. I would say crowning the right stuff, but I don’t think anything should replace what was previously uncrowned.














As we were talking about crowning…

Childbirth is made the most green thing because it is really the knowledge of life isn’t it. Inside childbirth is newness and potential and growth and the cyclical nature of life is held.




Ambivalent, visceral laughter creates a shared experience, visceral empathy, undermining what otherwise governs and separates. This is absolutely extended to language. It can uncrown official culture and societal structure because in laughing debasement occurs; in a  productive sense, it breaks down barriers between folk, it highlights the mutability of connections versus the fixed, immutable structures imposed. By highlighting the mutability and cyclical nature of the world, and grounding the universal shared nature of the corpus, the ruling classes’ assertion to power is undermined, as it is fundamentally conservative and therefore closed. Laughter opens concepts, offers them up, as the mouth opens and offers that guttural noise.

Take me through your different laughs. What’s your work laugh? And then your rude laugh?

Laughing empowers and disempowers simultaneously.


Consuming superabundance.

We always did ‘drink theologically’ eh!



Monastic impotence can perhaps be overcome. Self-flagellatory moral indulgence superseded by reasonable following of urges. Is that liberation? 


With green we’re on gay time, gay matter.

I can’t help myself around a double-entendre, man.

















In traditional depictions, Greeness has encroached upon the orifices of his body. I think this would be quite different if it was a female figure (it would probably be different orifices wouldn’t it).
I hope that’s the only place you stuck those twigs!


Holding the mouth agape, allowing the outside to enter in, his face is plastered across churches like an odd acknowledgement of garden reality. It is strange that the Green Man was embraced ecclesiastically because it feels so pagan, like Easter (but they hate Halloween don’t they). Fertility is shrouded in celebration but also sacrilege.


There’s a turn, when suddenly cleanliness becomes close to godliness - sanctity in purity where previously praise was given to bodies.

Praise be where God pisses!

Ever-vicious body, consecrated furrows.













He is fertile because he is him

He
Him

You can be so self-centred.









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him


99 paintings - Each individual painting 15x10 cm

Total dimensions infinitely variable


















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Is that all I need to do?