MORNING GLORY FIRST: SNOW

SHOWBIZ

OH, WELL.

MIDDLE OF THE DAY, BETTY SHOULD REALLY NOT SIT THIS MUCH.

SHE SHOULD RATHER BE ON HER WAY TO THE HARDWARE STORE, TO BUY A PLASTIC FOOT FOR THE CHRISTMAS TREE.

OR, SHOULD SHE?

SHE KEEPS HERSELF INSIDE, THEN LUSTS AND LONGS FOR WHAT'S OUT THERE.
LIKE PLAYING CAT AND MOUSE.
SHE NEEDS TO MOVE, BUT JUST KEEPS WRITING, IT'S DIARRHEA, SO PAINFULLY PLEASANT, UNSTOPPABLE SOMEHOW.

THERE IS A BICYCLE AHEAD, A TRIP OVER THE BRIDGE AND THANK FUCK FOR THE LACK OF ICE. 
THERE IS ALSO A LINGERING HEADACHE AND THE UNDERSTANDING THAT TEN MINUTES OF DOWNWARD-FACING DOG ARE NEEDED.
BUT NO ACTION IS TAKEN.

TUMBLERS AND TWITTERS AND FLICKERS, BLOGGERS AND TWO FACES ON FUCKBOOK, MAN.
WHAT HAPPENS IF NO-ONE READS?
NOTHING.
WHAT HAPPENS IF THE INTERNET IMPLODES?
SHE'D GO BACK TO READING, SUPPOSE. BOOKS.
AND MASTURBATING TO HER OWN FANTASIES RATHER THAN SAD .MOV FILES.

BETTY REALIZES IT'S TIME TO WRAP HERSELF UP IN BLACK LATEX TAPE AND TAKE SOME PHOTOS.
BUT FOR THAT, SHE NEEDS TO SHAVE HER LEGS FIRST.

SHE TELLS HERSELF:
SHE WILL JUST START THIS MACHINE UP AND THEN IT WILL FLOW ON ITS OWN.
SHE WILL FIND A PLACE OF ABSOLUTE FREEDOM THAT WILL BRING HER GREAT FORTUNE AND FAME.
SHE WILL SOON BE RICH ENOUGH TO BUY THAT GORGEOUS WRITING DESK IN THE POSH FURNITURE STORE DOWN THE ROAD.
SHE WILL HAVE A PHOTO EXHIBITION, SHE WILL BE APPLAUDED.
SHE WILL WRITE THIS BOOK, TURN IT INTO A MOVIE ONE DAY.
SHE STILL HAS TIME TO EXPERIENCE A WHOLE WILD OCEAN OF THRILLS.
SHE WILL SOON HAVE A DEDICATED GROUP OF FANS FOR HER PHONE-SHOT MINI-MOVIES.
SHE WILL MAKE REAL CINEMA, TOO.

BUT BEFORE THEN, SHE HAS TO FINISH YESTERDAY'S TAKE-AWAY WAN-TAN, POP A PAINKILLER AND FINALLY CHANGE THE SEASON IN HER WARDROBE.

CAUSE THERE IS NO AVOIDING IT NO MORE:
SHE NEEDS WOOL, NOW.

FOOTAGE 1.1

HERE IS A SELECTION OF SNAPSHOTS BETTY TOOK

WHILE OUT ON WALKS

[ADDING CREATIVE OUTCOME TO THE THERAPEUTIC EFFECT OF WANDERING]

AND HERE IS THE LINK TO BETTY'S PHOTOSTREAM, IF YOU CRAVE MORE ,)

FOOTAGE 1.0

WHEN IT'S TOO LATE

A WEEK AGO, BETTY'S GRANDFATHER DIED.

NOVEMBER NINETEENTH.

THIS IS A VERY SAD EVENT AND BETTY, DESPITE HER RATIONALIZING EFFORTS AND ADULT AGE, CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL 360 DEGREES ALL-BLACK.

TECHNICALLY THOUGH, IT IS ARGUABLE THAT THERE IS ANOTHER ANGLE TO IT, AND IN FACT, IT SHOULD BE A REASON FOR JOY THAT SOMEONE YOU LOVE LIVES TO BE ALMOST NINETY YEARS OF AGE, TWENTY OF WHICH HE WON OVER TWO HEART ATTACKS. HOWEVER YOU LOOK AT IT, HE LIVED A LONG LIFE, A GOOD ONE TOO, AND WHEN HE WENT IT HAPPENED QUICKLY, SOFTLY, WHILE IN GOOD HANDS. 

EVEN IN PASSING, THE MAN HAS BEEN LUCKY.

BETTY TRAVELED ACROSS TWO COUNTRIES TO ATTEND THE FUNERAL.

TO WALK IN A WHITE-TILED ROOM AND GASP AT WHAT LOOKED LIKE A MEDIOCRE WAX REPLICA OF HER GRANDDAD, IN A BOX, STUCK STIFF IN A BLACK SUIT AND MAKE-UP.

TO TOUCH HIS YELLOW AND REALLY COLD HAND.

TO WITNESS THE COFFIN BEING LOWERED ON ROPES INTO A HOLE IN THE GROUND, 
TRYING NOT TO THINK THAT THIS IS WHERE HER GRANDPA IS GONNA BE, FROM NOW ON.

IN A WOODEN BOX BURIED IN A GRAVEYARD.

REST IN PEACE.

BUT BETTY HAS TO ADMIT THAT, IN ALL THIS GRIEF, SHE HAS BEEN LUCKY TOO.
HER GRANDFATHER WAS TAKEN INTO THE HOSPITAL ON A SUNDAY EVENING.
"NOT THE FIRST TIME", THOUGHT EVERYONE IN THE FAMILY AND, FOR SOME MYSTERIOUS REASON, 
"NOT THE LAST" THEY THOUGHT TOO. 
EVERYONE BUT BETTY.

EARLY ON THE MONDAY MORNING, WHILE SHE WAS BUSY WITH SOME ROUTINE-LIVING ACTIVITY, SHE WAS SUDDENLY STRUCK BY A VERY BAD CHILL. NOT KNOWING ANY BETTER, SHE DROPPED WHATEVER SHE WAS DOING, PICKED UP HER PHONE AND DID SOMETHING QUITE IRRATIONAL: SHE RANG HER HALF-COMATOSE GRANDFATHER'S CELL.

MIRACLE WANTED THAT A NURSE WAS STROLLING PAST HIS BED AND PICKED UP THE CALL.
"WE HAD TO REANIMATE HIM AN HOUR AGO, BUT HE IS STABLE NOW", SHE INFORMED.
"STABLE? IS HE CONSCIOUS? CAN HE TALK?", BETTY'S VOICE TREMBLED IN THE PHONE.
"YES, HE IS CONSCIOUS. WAIT... SIR? SIR, IT'S YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER, SHE'S ON THE PHONE". 
IN A FLASH, BETTY FOUND HERSELF IN THAT ROOM. 
SHE SAW HER GRANDDAD'S TIRED HEAD TURN ON THE STERILE PILLOW TO FACE THE BENT NURSE IN TURQUOISE OVERALL. 
SHE ALMOST FELT THE SMELL OF IT.
"MADAME, CAN YOU PLEASE TELL HIM THAT I'M THINKING OF HIM ALL THE TIME. PLEASE. AND THAT I LOVE HIM?...", BETTY PANTED TO THE STRANGER ON THE LINE.
"SHE'S THINKING OF YOU, SIR. SHE WISHES YOU ALL THE BEST AND LOVES YOU.", THE WOMAN REPEATED WARMLY.
AND THAT'S WHEN BETTY HEARD THE LAST WORDS SHE WOULD EVER HEAR FROM HIM, 
HIS DISTANT VOICE MURMUR A SORE "THANK YOU, HONEY".
THREE HOURS LATER, HE WAS NO MORE. 

YOU SEE, BETTY COULD FILL WHOLE NOTEBOOKS WITH MEMORIES OF HER GRANDFATHER, GOING BACK DECADES. 
OF CHRISTMAS DINNERS AT HIS TABLE, OF MUSHROOM-HUNTS IN THE WOODS AROUND HIS COTTAGE, POKER LESSONS BY THE SEA.

SHE HAS HALF A MILLION OF SUCH MOMENTS ON THE HARD DISK OF HER MEMORY, SAMPLES OF HIS VOICE, FRAGMENTS OF HIS FACE, OF HOW HE KISSED HER WELCOME WHEN SHE CAME TO VISIT, OF HOW HE MADE HER LAUGH.

BUT WHAT WILL NEVER, EVER, NO MATTER WHAT, FADE OFF HER MEMORY IS THE ECHOING SOUND OF THOSE THREE LAST WORDS SHE WAS LUCKY ENOUGH TO HEAR: 
THANK. YOU. HONEY.

SO, WHAT BETTY WOULD LIKE TO SAY, IS:

IF YOU THINK THAT YOU CAN KEEP POSTPONING ACTIONS AND PEOPLE THAT YOU LOVE TO A CONSTANT "SOMEDAY", OR "EVENTUALLY",
IF YOU THINK YOU STILL HAVE MOUNTAINS OF TIME TO DO ALL THE THINGS YOU WOULD LIKE TO DO,
IF YOU THINK THAT YOUR FUTURE OR YOUR PAST ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE DAY YOU ARE ALIVE NOW,
AND IF YOU, FOR ANY REASON, THINK PEOPLE AND THINGS ARE ENDLESS,
THEN PLEASE THINK AGAIN.

CAUSE THEY ARE NOT.     

COME INSIDE BETTY'S BUBBLE

SCREEN PLAY 1.0

BETTY STOLE THESE IMAGES FROM A SCREEN.

PLEASE, FEEL FREE TO STEAL THEM BACK.

,)

AND IF YOU WISH TO SEE MORE, COME HERE.

THE ROAD TO RUIN

(photo: Pan With A Goat - image found online)

BETTY LOVES PORN.

THIS IS MAYBE A SIMPLE THOUGHT, BUT IT'S TRUE.

AND IF YOU'LL KEEP COMING BACK TO HER WORDS, YOU WILL PROBABLY READ PLENTY ON THIS VERY SUBJECT. 

THIS TIME, SHE WOULD LIKE TO SHARE WITH YOU SOMETHING SHE STUMBLED UPON ON THE WEBTUBE AND SHE FOUND QUITE INTERESTING.

SURPRISINGLY, IT'S A BRITISH DOCUMENTARY SERIES ON THE SECRET HISTORY OF CIVILIZATION: PORNOGRAPHY. 

WHAT SHE FOUND MOST PRECIOUS IN WATCHING IT, WAS COMING TO THE SIMPLE REALIZATION THAT THE CONCEPT OF PORNOGRAPHY IS NOT NATURAL TO THE HUMAN BEING. IT IS A MIND-CONSTRUCT INVENTED BY VICTORIAN SCIENCE.

IT'S MID-EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. BRITISH SCIENTISTS DISCOVER THE REMAINS OF POMPEI. 

SOME OF THE HOUSES, UNDER THE PETRIFIED LAVA, ARE ALMOST INTACT.

INSIDE, THEY FIND AN ASTOUNDING GEYSER OF FRESCOES, STATUES, OBJECTS DEPICTING PEOPLE IN (KINKY) SEXUAL INTERCOURSE.

AND THE DROP THAT MADE THE BUCKET OVERFLOW WAS A MAGNIFICENT STATUE OF THE GOD PAN HAVING SEX WITH A GOAT. 

ALTHOUGH OBSCENE AND UNACCEPTABLE, IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL THEY COULD NOT DESTROY IT. IT GENERATED AS MUCH HORROR AS FASCINATION AND THEREFORE, THEY LOCKED IT UP IN A "SECRET MUSEUM" AND THEN HAD TO FIND A NAME FOR IT.

"THIS CAUSED IMMENSE TROUBLE [...]. THE WHOLE OF EUROPE TRACED ITS OWN ROOTS, IN A DIFFERENT WAY, BACK TO CLASSICAL CULTURE. SO, THE DISCOVERY OF POMPEI AND ITS OBSCENITY WAS A THREAT NOT JUST TO PEOPLE'S IDEA OF THE ANCIENT WORLD, BUT TO THE VERY IDEA OF WHO THEY WERE."  

(DR. SIMON GOLDHILL - UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE) 

"THE REMOVING OF THE PAN AND THE GOAT FROM THE CULTURE IT WAS EMBEDDED IN, AND PUTTING IT AWAY, STARTED A PROCESS THAT STILL CONTINUES TODAY. THAT IS, CORDONING OFF SEXUAL REPRESENTATION FROM THE REST OF LIFE. FOR THE ROMANS IT WAS PART OF CONTINUUM, FOR US IT'S STILL A VERY SCARY THING." 

(PROF. JOHN CLARKE - ART HISTORIAN) 

BUT WHAT BETTY FINDS MOST IRONIC IN THIS WHOLE STORY, IS THAT THE GOD PAN IS, IN FACT, A SATYR. OR A FAUN. 

THAT IS, HE IS A HALF-GOAT, FROM HIS WAIST DOWN, HE EVEN HAS GOAT HORNS. 

YOU KNOW, HE WAS THE COCK IN THE NYMPHS' HEN HOUSE, AND THOSE GIRLS WERE FAMOUS FOR NOT EXACTLY BEING VIRGINS. 

HE WAS THE GOD OF SPRING AND FERTILITY AND BETTY'S SURE HE WOULD NOT MISS A BACCHANAL FOR THE WORLD AND BEYOND. 

HE WAS JUST THAT KIND OF CREATURE, YOU SEE.

WHY WOULD AN ART HISTORIAN, ALBEIT EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY AND BRITISH, BE SO SHOCKED AT SEEING HIM FUCK A GOAT!??

HMMM??..

,)

   

LAST RAYS OF SUMMER

UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED, CREDITED OR MENTIONED, ALL PHOTOS ON THIS PAGE ARE HANDMADE BY BETTY HERSELF.

THAT MEANS, THE RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

FORTUNATELY THOUGH, BETTY IS KEEN TO SUSTAIN A CERTAIN ATTITUDE OF NON-ATTACHMENT REGARDING HER BRAINCHILDREN.

CAUSE SHE LIKES THEM FREE.

THAT'S WHY, SHE ENCOURAGES YOU TO LIKE, SHARE, DISLIKE, RELOG, STEAL WHATEVER YOU SEE HERE AND SPEAKS TO YOU, IF YOU PLEASE.

BUT IF YOU HAVE MANNERS, YOU WILL CREDIT THE AUTHOR.

RIGHT?

OR ELSE, JUST WATCH:

AND IF YOU WISH TO SEE MORE, COME HERE..

SQUID FISTING

BREAKFAST ON BESTIALITY

BETTY DOES REALIZE THAT HER RESTLESS CURIOSITY BRINGS HER TO LEAD A LIFESTYLE WHICH MAY SEEM, TO SOME, IMPOSSIBLE TO STOMACH.

BUT SHE IS ALSO AWARE THAT SOMEONE'S GOTTA DO IT AND IT MIGHT AS WELL BE HER, GIVEN THE FACT SHE APPEARS TO EVEN ENJOY IT.

THAT'S WHY, LAST MORNING, SHE SAT WITH HER APPLE-BITS-AND-GOAT-YOGURT BREAKFAST, KICKSTARTED HER CONTROL PANEL AND LOOKED UP THE NOTION OF "ZOOFILIA", 8:46 AM.

STOP!
WAIT A MINUTE, LET'S MAKE SOMETHING CLEAR.

ALTHOUGH BETTY IS PROUD TO AFFIRM SHE FOSTERS QUITE AN IMPRESSIVE PALETTE OF FETISHES AND KINKS AND YOU COULD SAY HER HORIZONS ARE WELL WIDE-SPREAD, THEY REMAIN ALL STRICTLY CENTERED AROUND HUMANS.
NO DOGS, PONIES, ALIENS, ATROCIOUSLY HAIRY JUNGLE CREATURES, NO SQUIDS.
GOATS?

ANYONE OUT THERE EVER HAD SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH A GOAT? 
SHIT, REALLY!?
CAUSE THE EXPERTS SAY IT IS A QUITE ORDINARY THING TO DO, NOTABLY IN RURAL SETTINGS. 
BUT YOU SEE, BETTY IS A CITY GAL AND SHE NEVER HAD PETS OTHER THAN GOLDFISH WHEN SHE WAS LITTLE, AND GOLDFISH ARE NOT EXACTLY FAMOUS FOR BEING VERY SEXY THINGS. 
PERHAPS, THIS IS WHY SHE NEVER HAD A CHANCE TO DEVELOP A SENTIMENTAL BRIDGE TO THE ANIMAL WORLD AND (EVEN) TO HER, THE IDEA OF BEING CREAMPIED BY A GERMAN SHEPARD IS, SIMPLY, DOWNRIGHT, REPELLENT.   

STILL, LATELY, SHE HAS BEEN READING ABOUT THIS KNOTTING BUSINESS WHICH OCCURS WHEN SOMEONE IS PENETRATED BY A DOG AND HOW THIS, SOME SAY, IS THE ULTIMATE SENSORY EXPERIENCE AND SOMEHOW SHE CAN'T STOP HERSELF FROM THINKING SHE NEEDS TO FIND OUT MORE.

THAT'S WHY, AFTER SWALLOWING THE FIRST TWO SPOONS FROM HER BOWL, SHE DIALS: DOG, KNOT, WOMAN AND WHEN THE RESULT PAGE SHOWS UP, SHE WISHES IT NEVER HAD.

YOU KNOW, IT REALLY IS A JUNGLE OUT THERE. LIKE YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE.

BETTY IS WELL AWARE OF THIS, BUT ONCE IN A WHILE SHE STILL MANAGES TO STEP ON LINKS THAT SWING OPEN WINDOWS OF INSIGHT SHE WOULD HAVE RATHER KEPT SHUT.

OF COURSE THERE ARE CLIPS, ALL SORTS OF THINGS. FROM AMATEUR FOOTAGE TO A RESPECTABLE TV REPORTAGE ON A WOMAN WHO DIVORCED HER HUSBAND DUE TO HER, LITERALLY, PASSION FOR HER GOLDEN LABRADOR. 

THE CLIP EVEN FEATURES A SCENE WHERE THE TWO OF THEM LAY ON THEIR BED, SPOONING, THE DOG CARESSING HER SHINS WITH ITS (HIS?) TAIL.

THE KIND OF SIGHT THAT MAKES YOU WONDER WHETHER REINCARNATION IS THAT CRAZY AN IDEA, AFTER ALL.

BUT THE MOVIE THAT REALLY MAKES HER PUT DOWN HER BOWL AND FORGET ABOUT ANY FURTHER SWALLOWING FOOD IS THIS:

A WOMAN KNEELS FACE-DOWN AND BUTT-UP ON A YOGA MAT IN WHAT SEEMS TO BE A GARAGE. THERE ARE TWO MEN IN THE ROOM: ONE, HER HUSBAND, HOLDS THE CAMERA, THE OTHER IS A FRIEND. THERE ARE ALSO TWO BLACK MOUNTAIN DOGS WITH THEM: ONE IS BANGING THE WOMAN (VERY RIGHTFULLY SO) DOGGYSTYLE, WHILE THE OTHER CIRCLES THEM WHIPPING HIS TAIL IN GREAT TREPIDATION.

THE WOMAN PANTS AS IF SHE WERE ASTHMATIC, THE DOG ALL OF A SUDDEN STOPS HAMMERING HER GENITALS AND SEEMS TO BECOME KIND OF STUCK IN HER, THE CAMERA TREMBLES.

"LOOK, LOOK!", THE HUSBAND TELLS HIS FRIEND, "HE'S KNOTTING HER!"

THEN HE ASKS THE DOG, "ARE YOU KNOTTING YOUR MOMMY, FLASH, HUH? YYEEEEEES, GOOD DOGGY, YOU'RE PUTTING A BIG FAT KNOT IN THAT PUSSY, FLASH, GOOD BOY!"

"IS HE NOT IN HER ARSE?", THE FRIEND INQUIRES. "I DON'T KNOW..", HE ANSWERS.

"IS HE IN YOUR BUM, HONEY?", THE MAN'S VOICE ASKS, LOUDER.

"IN MY CUMPHT" IS THE ANSWER, MUFFLED BY THE YOGA MAT.

"HE'S IN YOUR SWEET PUSSY, DARLING? AAAHHHH, GOOD DOGGY, FLASH!"

MEANWHILE, FLASH MANAGES TO POP OUT OF HIS MOMMY'S CUNT AND BETTY ALMOST FALLS OFF HER CHAIR AT THE SIGHT OF THE HUGE, SWOLLEN, DEEP PURPLE DOG DICK THAT SLIDES OUT OF HER. 

IT IS AS DISGUSTING AS IT IS SURPRISINGLY THICK.

AND ONCE SHE SAW THIS, SHE HAD TO AGREE THAT, YES, INDEED, A THING LIKE THAT CAN GIVE YOUR G-SPOT QUITE SOME UNFORGETTABLE RIDE.

"WAIT, WAIT!", THE PROUD DADDY SUMMONS HIS MATE, "LOOK WHAT HE DOES NOW!"

THE DOG OBEDIENTLY WAITS WITH HIS NOSE IN FRONT OF THE WOMAN'S CROTCH UNTIL THE WHITE GOO STARTS DRIPPING OUT. 

THEN, HE STARTS LICKING.

"WOW! HE'S EATING UP HIS OWN CUM!", THE FRIEND IS MINDBLOWN.

"YYEEEAAH, HE'S A REAL GOOD DOGGY, ISN'T HE HONEY? DOES IT FEEL NICE WHEN HE LICKS YOU LIKE THAT?"

"UHMPH-HMMMPH" IS THE ANSWER.

BEFORE FLASH CAN FINISH THE JOB, HIS TWIN BROTHER JUMPS ON THE WOMAN AND BEGINS HIS OWN ROUND OF SHOWING LOVE TO HIS MOMMY.

BETTY SLAMS HER COMPUTER SHUT.

WAY MORE THAN ENOUGH SHE HAS SEEN, FUCK, 9:27 AM.

LET'S NOW UNDERLINE THIS:

BETTY IS NOT HERE TO JUDGE ANYONE IN ANY WAY.

QUITE ON THE CONTRARY ACTUALLY, SHE IS HERE TO DISTURB YOU, IDEALLY, BY ASKING DIFFICULT QUESTIONS. 

BECAUSE TO HER, REGARDLESS OF HER PERSONAL TASTE, AS LONG AS NO-ONE GETS KILLED OR DAMAGED, YOU ARE FREE TO DO WHATEVER YOU PLEASE.

ACTUALLY, SHE IS REALLY CONVINCED THE POINT IS YOU SHOULD DO WHATEVER YOU PLEASE.

SO, SHE IS WRITING THIS BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO CONFESS SHE IS GUILTY. 

YES, JUST AS GUILTY AS THE GUY BEHIND THE CAMERA, HIS PAL, HIS WIFE, AND FLASH. 

BETTY IS NO LESS GUILTY THAN THEY ARE, BECAUSE SHE WATCHED. 

BECAUSE, IN A WAY, SHE WAS IN THAT GARAGE WITH THEM.

GUILTY, BECAUSE SHE GOT AROUSED IN A VOYEURISTIC ACT.

AND THE FACT SHE DID IT WHILE SAFELY SITTING AT HER CLEAN DESK MAKES IT ONLY WORSE.

AND IT'S NOT ABOUT THE MASSIVE DOG PRICK AND ITS POTENTIAL EFFECTS ON THE FRONT WALL OF A WOMAN'S VAGINA, NOR IT IS ABOUT THE TABOO AROUND THE CARNAL UNION BETWEEN CREATURES OF COMPLETELY DIFFERENT KINDS.

WHAT REALLY TURNED BETTY ON WAS THE IDEA THAT A MAN COULD GET HIS KICKS OUT OF WATCHING, AND FILMING, WITH HIS FRIEND, HIS BELOVED WIFE BEING SLEDGE-HAMMERED, KNOTTED AND JIZZ-FILLED BY THEIR PET DOGS, QUITE LITERALLY LIKE A BITCH IN HEAT.

WHAT REALLY TURNS HER ON (AMONG NUMEROUS OTHER THINGS) IS DISCOVERING, AND POSSIBLY EVEN EXPERIENCING, BY WATCHING AT LEAST, OTHER PEOPLE'S KINKS.

AND THE MORE FUCKED-UP THEY ARE, THE BETTER FOR BETTY.

WE HAVE TRIED IN THE PAST, BUT THERE IS NOT MUCH TO BE DONE:

BETTY JUST LOVES PERVERTS.  

AND, SHE IS NOT ASHAMED, MIND YOU.

PLAIN, TOUGH, TRUE.

DANCE WITH B

SLAKKENPOEP IS HET ANTWOORD

 foto: installation by ONTWERPDUO

A FEW DAYS AGO BETTY HAD THE PLEASURE TO VISIT THE DUTCH DESIGN'S WEEK IN EINDHOVEN. 

IT WAS A GREATLY INSPIRING EXPERIENCE, AS SHE LOVES TO BE IN FIRST-HAND TOUCH WITH OBJECTS AND IMAGES AND SHAPES WHICH EXPRESS OTHER PEOPLE'S PASSION, VISION AND CRAFT. 

SHE VERY MUCH ENJOYED VISITING THE WORKSHOPS OF YOUNG RECYCLE-ARTISTS WHO WERE INVENTIVE ENOUGH TO USE AN OLD SCREWED-UP FAX MACHINE AS A WAY TO ETCH ON THERMIC PAPER, JUST AS MUCH AS SHE ENJOYED THE MORE POSH END OF THE FESTIVAL, LIKE FOR INSTANCE CHAIR FASHION. 

YES, CLOTHES FOR CHAIRS.

REAL GREAT.

BUT SHE WOULD NOT MENTION ANY OF IT HERE, IF IT WASN'T FOR SLAKKENPOEP.

YES, NO OBJECT, NO MATERIAL, NO THING SHE HAS SEEN IN THE PAST MANY YEARS AT LEAST HAS FLABBERBLASTED HER AS MUCH AS THIS, AND SHE DOES TRULY BELIEVE THAT SLAKKENPOEP IS THE ANSWER.

IMAGINE THIS. 

LET'S ASSUME YOU HAVE A SNAIL ON YOUR DESK AND THIS SNAIL HAPPENS TO STROLL OVER A BIT OF COLORED PAPER THAT LIES THERE AND SHE (HE?) LUNCHES ON IT AND THEN POOPS IT OUT A BIT FURTHER DOWN HER TRAIL AND YOU NOTICE THAT THE SHIT HAS PRESERVED EXACTLY THE SAME COLOR OF THE EATEN PAPER. 

THAT IS, IF THE PAPER WAS COBALT-BLUE, THE LITTLE CURLY TURD LEFT AMONG YOUR PENCILS IS OF AN IDENTICAL SHADE OF BLUE, AND THE SAME GOES FOR CRASH-PINK, FERRARI-RED AND ALL OTHER COLORS YOU CAN THINK OF.

WELL, IF YOU WENT AWAY FOR A WEEKEND AND WHEN YOU COME BACK YOU'D FIND YOUR DESK AND ALL AROUND DOTTED WITH THESE LITTLE CONFETTI-LIKE SNAIL FECES, WHAT WOULD YOU DO?  

BECAUSE, YOU SEE, BETTY WOULD FIRST OF ALL BE APPALLED TO SEE HER SACRED DESK HAS BECOME A SNAIL-CLOACA, SHE WOULD BE FURIOUS, SHE WOULD IMMEDIATELY GET RID OF BOTH EXCREMENT AND SNAILS, REGARDLESS OF THEIR COLOR, AND MAKE SURE IT NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN. IT'S OBVIOUS.

BUT NOT FOR EVERYONE.

ONE PERSON, ONE POWERFULLY CREATIVE THINKER SAW THE COLORED SNAIL SHIT AND, INSTEAD OF BEING DISGUSTED OR WANTING TO CLEAN IT UP, SHE THOUGHT IT COULD BE A PERFECT MATERIAL TO MAKE LINOLEUM WITH.

WHAT!!?

YES. SNAILSHIT LINOLEUM.

AND IT LOOKS VERY CUTE TOO.

NOW, IN GENERAL, BETTY  IS NOT TOO FOND OF SYNTHETIC MATERIALS, AND AMONG THOSE SHE HAS TO CONFESS THAT LINOLEUM IS ONE OF HER LEAST FAVORITE. 

BUT THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT, BECAUSE WHAT REALLY CAUGHT HER HEART IN SLAKKENPOEP, IS THE IMMENSE OPENNESS AND FREEDOM OF THOUGHT THAT GENERATED IT. 

IT TAKES GUTS AND GREAT DISCIPLINE TO KEEP YOUR MIND SO CLEAN OF PREJUDICE AS TO SEE A CHANCE FOR CREATION EVEN IN THE FECES OF A MOLLUSK, FOR HOW COLORFUL THEY MAY BE.

AND IF EACH ONE OF US WOULD BE ABLE TO APPROACH OUR ENVIRONMENT WITH SUCH CURIOSITY AND BOUNDLESS IMAGINATION, THIS WOULD BE A VERY DIFFERENT WORLD.

SO, ALTHOUGH SHE WOULD PROBABLY NEVER COVER HER BATHROOM SINK IN IT, BETTY BOWS AT THE VISION, THE COURAGE AND AT THE CREATIVE FRESHNESS OF LIESKE SCHREUDER, THE INVENTOR OF SLAKKENPOEP.

IF YOU WANT TO SEE HOW IT LOOKS, CLICK HERE:   Slakkenpoep webpage 

CHAPEU!

AND FLY OUT

RELOAD

STOP! WHAT HAPPENED!?

I'VE BEEN HERE BEFORE, IT WAS NOT LIKE THIS.

NO, IT WASN'T. 

SO WHAT?

IF THERE'S ONE THING BETTY SEEMS TO BE DEEPLY ADDICTED TO, THAT IS CHANGE.

ADDICTED, BECAUSE IT'S NEVER WITHOUT ACHING.

COME NOW, FORGET.

LET'S GO SOMEWHERE NEW, TRY SOMETHING ELSE?

AS IF YOU WERE TO TAKE SNAPSHOTS, LIKE NOTES, OF WHAT YOU FEEL.

FOR YOURSELF, AND ALL THOSE WHO MIGHT CARE. YOU CAN.

BEFORE TIME RUNS OUT. 

THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED.

THE BACKDROP HAS SHIFTED, THE NEW ONE IS SO BRIGHT.

THE AUDIENCE IS SAT, THEY WIGGLE IN THEIR CHAIRS.

YOUR FINGERS ARE TWISTED AND WHITE FROM THE STRAIN.

THE STAGE IS ALL LIT, JUST WAITING FOR YOU, AND YOU CAN'T TURN AWAY.

NOT BECAUSE IT'S IMPOSSIBLE, BUT BECAUSE YOU WON'T.

SO SLIDE THE FIRST STEP ON THOSE PLANKS AND TUNE FINALLY IN.

JUMP ON THAT FLOW AND RIDE THE LIGHTS OF YOUR MODEST STAGE.

BUT FIRST STOP, RELOAD, ERASE AND START ONCE MORE.

THERE WILL BE NO OTHER NOW LIKE THIS ONE AGAIN.
 

BREATHE.