performance and text shared as part ‘Private Lives’ at Underground Festival at HOTA, Home of the Arts 2021. 

#pinklightheory - - is a philosophy of aliveness. It is a portal to our sensory relationship to the inside and outside world. To be alive is to experience the world with your hands outstretched, sensing, seeking, waiting for the next moment of pleasure to rise up in your body. To fill you up, to make you remember what it means to feel every follicle of your skin at once, to remember what it means to be touched, to touch, to taste, to be tasted, to breathe in citrus, salt, bitter, butter, burnt caramel, pure umami.

Pink Light theory is;
Pleasure as release, pleasure as relief, pleasure as reverence.
Pleasure as release, pleasure as relief, pleasure as reverence.
Pleasure as release, pleasure as relief, pleasure as reverence.

In the morning... slow down while grinding your daily coffee beans, breathe in the scent of each bean as it is cracked into smaller components. Listen to the sound of the whirring grinders. Watch the caramel bubble on top. Slow down. Breathe it in.

Saliva welling, soft mouth, gaping mouth, lonely mouth, pour yourself into me.
savour in salty anticipation.

Leaves; translucent, pink and green and soft and magic.
A map, a map to get back to herself.
Back to aliveness.
Back to release, to relief, and to reverence.

To surrender, soften the body against air. Look up to the sky, open your mouth, catch the rain, and taste a cloud.

Disrupt the passivity of your day, without purpose or wanting, watch your desire well up inside you.

A thundercloud drips honey, soft as it hits skin, sinking into pores, slipping into cells, shifting composition.

Pinned to a fridge on a list she wrote, croissants, 2 oranges, a whole watermelon, pistachios,mandarines, butter, green mango, all-purpose flour, coconut oil solidified, raw sugar, salt, sardines, and a pomegranate.

butter smeared
cheeks flayed
basil foamed
green mango salted
banana splayed and battered and fried and dusted and crispy, now sweating in this single use plastic bag

At the end of the day, I take a shower with a mandarin. With the hot water running over your back, peel the skin so citrus oils burst into the steam. Breathe it in.
Citrus scent releases in a hot shower as I peel away your skin, supple, porous, I breathe you into me, I stop thinking, the day fades.

In the sublime there is water, light and the body. In the sublime there is a pink light, creek water, and the body in wanting. In the sublime there is emptiness, spaciousness, you are floating in a cloud. There is my body pressing, leaning, sinking, disintegrating into the stone, and the body of the stone, pressing, contouring itself back into my body. The wisdom of the skin, both my own and that of the stone. a sensory encounter with the world, a barrier that separates us and a deep connection that integrates us. In the sublime there is water that drips, sunlight that warms the skin, and eros.
The sublime is also the erotic. And the erotic is an experience of transcendance. Transcendence of the flesh of bodies. The erotic is poetry of the body. The erotic is the sensation of sliding a hand into a running stream, of breathing in oxygen released by moss, of reaching towards sunlight, of tasting each cell of mandarin juice as it bursts in your mouth. In the sublime there is cool water, pink light and aliveness.