Wet Mess
Wet Mess is a wet mess, horny for your confusion. Let it all out and guess again at the insecure balding white man/pussy prince/alien baby. Have a lollygag, think about your fantasy flesh suits, call me sweet prince, and remember Roger in a robe. Choose to make some silly campy decisions, with all the hairy thems and dykey men. All we really wanna do is strip for the stripper and drive her home with the dogs.
They/Them
Photo by Asafe Ghalib
Cardion Nights: Queer Performance in aid of akt, 2026
Two gender freaks and a shopping trolley, getting trollied. Brother/sister from another mother/mister. It always starts with the shoes. Being mothers, and lovers, and friends and boys and girls… We’ve been called so many names, sometimes we don’t know what to call ourselves - but Nancy says that's the whole point - to be confusing. Glamour on the edge of sanity. f*cking consuming, f*cking and consuming. Filling all the empty holes. Purge and spit, gagging on our anger. Gagging for it. What a gag! We eat and eat, repeat and repeat until the soft animal of our bodies love what it loves. When it falls apart we spill in the joint imagination. Fabulous projection or fleshy insistence. Thank you for making me exhale. Here is your princess, here is the horizon. This is a prayer for failure.
Wet Mess and Nando Messias. Developed whilst in residency at Somerset House Studios. Photo by Anne Tetzlaff
