I have this sick green neon sign in my bathroom that inspires serial killer queries from dates. It’s by Boise artist Wil Kirkman. I bought it at Visual Arts Collective a few years ago when in the suck, because it illuminated the darkness. It also gives off great mood lighting for pooping and showering (but not in that order, because ew).
vintage Roper acid blue jean skirt, LUX, $18.99
vintage Liz Claiborne puke green tank, LUX, $7.99
Cindy Says green-gold hells, Piece Unique, $I can’t remember but they were half off
1920’s Afghanistani silver and glass necklace, Armor Bijoux, $$$
I wore this outfit to Story Story Late-Night‘s PURGATORY: Stories of Being Stuck in the Middle with You, the adults-only black sheep arm of the live storytelling show I co-created and artistic direct. Something about the high-waisted, acid-colored denim split skirt speaks to all the weird fashion trends I am stuck forever craving, to my ultimate detriment.
The sickly, silky green top brings to mind my sign. In bleaker times, I read those three words as a concise summary of life itself. The punishing final cycle—wash, rinse and dry out on the line—of all our dreams and fantasies.
Now, I see the neon-writ passage as a self-contained prophecy—a self-imposed purgatory made of three spiraling levels. Avoiding fear causes us to create protective illusions that eventually, inevitably decay. When stripped down bare, there you are again, facing the facts, Jack.
Purgatory is a rough escape. You light up some truth bombs. You sometimes blow yourself up. Until you unearth, often at rock bottom, under all the facades and stagnation rooted in fear, a deep and driving desire for something you want so much, it scares you. It’s almost paradise. But hopefully that’s a whole other exit sign. And story.
Vinyl of the Day: “Prime Prine, The Best of John Prine”