Ana Toader

Percy is dumb, dumb, dumb as dumb can be. Percy is also rather old, which, one must say, hasn’t helped her sense that much.

Nor her waist, for that matter.

The eyes are open, the mouth moves, but Mr Brain has long since departed, hasn’t he, Percy?

Extraordinarily dumb. Hopelessly dumb.  I stand rebuked and eat a muffin, it seems the only sensible thing to do. Maybe two muffins.

When i am in trouble, eating is the only thing that consoles me.  Indeed, when i am in really great trouble, as anyone who knows me intimately will tell you, I refuse everything except food and drink.  At the present moment, I am eating muffins because I am unhappy. Besides, I am particularly fond of muffins.

Have you seen Percy’s pores? Horrendous. What age will do to you. Are you having that muffin?

Oh.

Well, would you consider teacake instead? I am so very fond of muffins and there’s only one left.

Heartless? Why, Jack. 

 Fine, if we must be strict.

(Still got a better waist than Percy, though.) 

(Blackadder + The Importance of Being Earnest – Oscar Wilde)

Virpi Pahkinen discloses herself to herself, we just happen to be there and witness it.

Like a geisha trained in optical illusion, she blooms manifold. Light builds around her, turns her white skin blue, purple, she exposes angles and curves as if presenting us one after another symbolist masterpieces.

She is beautiful and harsh and poised.

Like a newborn alien child, like a fresh heart, she pulsates. The coordination of her tiniest bones is supreme – she moved an ankle and three fingers and defined a space, suddenly eaten by new spaces as she Rubik cubes herself.

Things come together and burst open in a million ways and we see goddess, tree, bird, flower.

She’s a new form of cherub.

http://www.pahkinen.com/