COCK TAIL Apple | Sex

2 proportions of cock to 1 proportion of vulva and 1 finger of brain

"King by name; Warrior on a platter; Poet a little each day.

Black, slave anarchist and brown negro, still trying to escape.

Bi, even gay when I get there..."

This little self quote is taken from the brief portrait which I often use as a bio. The image associated with it is a small apple with the logo that represents me and that you will find everywhere on my websites, two crossed penises surmounted by a vulva.

This concept image is of course inspired by the famous Jolly Roger pirates, shins crossed below a skull standing out on a black background. The evocation of a bisexuality (I include myself in my logo(hence the two cocks instead of one!) childish and warlike corresponds well to the feeling I have of myself, in other words, of my apple. So much for the explanation of the text. It is necessary; long live pedagogy (ugh!)

Psychic mussel - Endemic mollusc

I liked to give a pearly aspect to this little symbol, soft and precious at the same time, which reminds me of the silky colours of porcelain (I'm talking about the shell and not grandma's trinkets). It's as if I had made a virtual medallion, a cameo or a ring with this effigy.

After all, why not take advantage of the modern age and its technology to adorn ourselves with intimate, virtual jewels that only our minds would adorn? One can be coquettish virtually. Perhaps we can even consider ourselves wealthy through our virtual presence? Since precariousness has invaded every corner of my material life, it is on the Internet, in a world that does not exist, that I develop a little. The brain makes its way there and sometimes its nest for an evening or a few months. The day when technology will allow us to be embodied in a simple electrical flow, you will only see me on this side of the screen.

Clone perspective

Like a good savage lost in the great city of the whites, I sought contact with other families, but in the end, I return to my forest to engender my own. That is to say, another me; the one that today makes up my creative being.

My cells, my brain, my balls, these are the primary members of my first family. Like the colonials of my deep and virgin nature, parents and parasites, discoverers of the riches of my soil, kept me isolated from the world and from others, those who could be my fellow men.

My apple fell from the tree to sink into the seascape. Lost in the abyss, frightened way of life, "Where in the world is that plankton?"  cries the great "That's enough! "