THE CULT COLLECTIVE

"Smokeblue, your eyes pearl over – silken sculpture, lips sewn / Shut. Unheard confessions stain that train."

"Inside our flat, the bare mustard walls and easy plastic furniture drag their feet, having inhaled too much dread."

"I could see him frantically writing himself / into her unfinished novel."

"nothingness is creation, Dionysus tells"

"I leave the country the next day and wonder whether American films will be forbidden."

"Still is the frame of us, breasts out, carcass feet, heads lolling backwards, four dead daffodils."

"The word ‘confession’ comes from ‘to speak in admission’, that is to say: say to let in."

A photo series exploring themes of sexuality, sexual expression, nudity and the body.

"As a foreigner in Germany and someone whose early life was influenced by war, (...) I often wonder if I had a normal childhood."

Confessions from a time when there seemed to be no threshold of tomorrow.

Delilah Dennett — "I am indigenous. He is white. Yet it is his tears that splatter the pages."

A summer in Ada Bojana, a photographic reflection of time.

"i still think quite often / about that afternoon in your garden / eating oranges in the sun"

"I remember how you stared at me / Amongst all that broken glass and wine; / And how I held my hand out, bleeding"

Reflections on coming of age in the Catholic Church.

"But, you see, sadly I cannot juggle, / and two eyeballs are quite heavy things to hold in a palm"

"Nothing is in retrograde — what can I blame now, if not myself?"

A poem about a moment of confession, where everything changed.

The work revolves around notions of language-encryption, memories of nursery rhymes, word-plays and word-textures.

A series of photographs that remind the artist of the feeling before confessing something to someone.