Body beautiful spurts milk into
baby’s mouth. Body inexplicable crouches up, pretends to be asleep. Body shape,
neither quite classical nor entirely baroque, breathes for dear life on its
earthen bed. Body listening with the heart, with premonition reflexes, with
time. Body alive in a fairy tale of young and old, hanging on, holding close,
once old, now young again. Body filters take in light and sustenance, not
waiting for explanations. Body busting out and learning sag. Body wanting a
body, embracing a body close, hairy moles, seashore skin, and
all. [Patricia Piccinini
with ‘Sanctuary’ at Tarrawarra Gallery, January 2019]
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