SeungYeonn Jo

wrenches paintings from

how one makes do

with living a bebodied everyday in desperate reality:

nauseated, losing hair, mainly producing luminescent snot, fecies & pain,

poor, underpaid, convulsing & sick again,

sailing a red sea of documents in a cute bikini.

she puts to use

the way we perceive images,

everything all at once, then over again but slower,

formulating experience

towards its dis-automation.

strange brutal normality

that’s always colliding into constellation

here & now.

the incapable protagonists of those collisions

fit awkwardly into their rooms, populated by ants, underwear & medicine,

troubled by & within their knobby & unskilled body,

dis-colored in pastel shades.

too many nostrils, too many fingers, too long legs.

they seem stiff, stuck,

alone & barely kept alive by clunky devices.

while outside their hopelessly colorful window

await the city’s streets

on which people generously offer their broken stuff, discarded sensory organs & empathy

for free.

we see paintings of

where we all hang on,

where verbal communication fails

& individuated isolation has us in a chokehold.

in & by de-figurating these congealed desolations

Jo maintains an emergency corridor

for the re-imagining of perception & relation,

nevertheless.

​

Text (Gedicht) von Nick Pschierer