IDTWS by Unwoman

I am a painter.

Once, I was commissioned by a stranger to paint a portrait of a woman. She looked like money. Every brush stroke was precise. It expressed what they paid me to express. It turned out perfectly and I sent it to my patron, who thanked me.

I had made a copy. I immersed it in acetone. I tore the canvas in strips. I let them dry in the mud in the sun after a rainy day. I ran them through a shredder.

I put the pieces together with spit to form three images that describe the maelstrom I see when I close my eyes. I am not allowed to talk about my desire for obliteration, so pictures will have to do.

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