Private Portraits

The imposter is constructing a lie to sleep in for the night. She composes a journal of public identities for the collective gaze. Her expression is one of angst. It is a search for identity rather than a declaration, and it is based on identifying with others, with all women who have been held up to the effacing stereotypes of a girl-crazy culture. From under her bed, she pulls a pile of personae and looks through the accumulation of hundreds of images. The self she presents, however, is exclusively a public enemy.

Eradicating the boundaries between the public and private, she poses in front of the mirror, as the perfect metaphor, as the physical equivalent of a scream. In the darkness, she strokes the memories that smell like gasoline, perceiving her own spiritual death of America.

Unmasking the metaphysics of her private life, she tries to capture the glimmering idealistic sheen of the public spectacle within herself. It does not work. The mere mirror speaks charms and wishes into her thoughts. A dialogue between the viewer and the image emerges, like wild animals coupling in the darkness. They drink a hallucinogenic liquid drug from an Indian ceremonial bowl, and this spawns the couple's passionate canine-style lovemaking in the jungle.

The Ballad of Sexual Dependency was the song that she made, with her smile and her disguises.

"I am not pretending to be a star. I just don’t give a fuck."

JonBenet Barbie decides one day that she wants to grow up to be a porn star. Her first lover is Dougie, the freakshow human dildo boy, with the cock that was the same size as his head. It was about then that the evil midgets emerged from the closet and began tearing at the script with their sharp teeth and claws. One afternoon, while she was attending a tea-party with Amber in the dollhouse, JonBenet Barbie rubbed her tiny pretend breasts against her friend, as she combed her woman-child silky hair. Fingertips sway carelessly over the suspicious sexuality of the moment. She is cold on the inside and warmer on the outside. Her chest heaves with aroused convulsions, witness to her passionate thoughts. Head spinning, she lies down for a moment in the grass.

"They do not pay me enough to work on this side of Hollywood. Anything for the stage, but this is ridiculous! I don’t remember saying that I would allow my image to be raped, murdered and burned in this way!"

The nightmare is always darker than the one that preceded it. Sitting in the waiting room and playing with her toys, JonBenet Barbie makes herself at home wherever she is. Showing her shaved mouse to the audience of one, she gives him a smile from behind the glass panel.

"I remember how you pretended to touch me."

razee@razee.com

Razee Ink 2000-2009

Verbal Hotel Rooms Cover