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I photo journey into the mind of a very demented chameleon of a manTRANSCRIPT
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PhotograPhs byrobert fischer
m a r ksubj ect /ob j ec t /col l a bor ator
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PhotograPhs byrobert fischer
m a r ksubj ect /ob j ec t /col l a bor ator
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Copyright 2010 by Robert A. Fischer
Cover photos by Robert A. Fischer
Book design by slimgim designs
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the copyright holders.
Above: Kitty LiterAtAi
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contentsNot just a Bobs Potted Plant 7
Richness of Uncertainty 21
Revealing Us To Ourselves 39
Guardian At the Gates of Taste 64
Comments 116
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1 vAriAtions on A theme
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Not just a bobs Potted Plant
After about five years of modeling for Bob I know that a lot of my job was to show up, shut up
and do as Bob asked. That I did this is why Bob refers to me as his potted plant.
But even potted plants move in response to air currents and the direction of the light. And
so do I. Bob might be adjusting his camera, and I would take that opportunity to adjust my
body, the tilt of my head, the direction of my gaze, to something that I thought he would like.
Sometimes his response was no, no, no, and hed tell me what he wanted, and other times
it was yes, thats it hold it, and he began shooting. This was my small way of being Bobs
collaborator a participant beyond the malleable model.
There have been times when my participation as collaborator was more significant usually
driven by my moods. I am manic-depressive (bipolar disorder) and have mild dementia. The
drugs that I take to control my moods do an imperfect job of it, so it is not unusual for me to be
a little bit manic or moderately depressed on any given day. Like the day I was just a tad manic
and showed up at my front door in a black slip and dark sun glasses. I intended to greet Bob
in that outfit, but any of the neighbors could have walked by. Bob however arrived on time and
got the picture. Another day I was in a very dark mood and we were at a place where there was
a memorial to the Sheriffs Office, complete with a huge six point sheriffs badge. Bob told me
to go stand by it, but I went up to it and crucified myself on the six point star. It made a great
picture. These and one or two others stand out for the level of collaboration and represent rare
instances of unusually high levels of collaboration between us.
For the most part, my collaboration with Bob was around the edges of his work. Especially
when I was doing some character or was in a mask or Id been painted for the occasion. As
an object, there is little opportunity for collaboration and I come closest to being that human
version of the potted plant. But when Bob trains his camera on me, as I am, for a portrait, then
I become a subject , a person portrayed by Bob, not a potted plant. Bob must then deal with
me and my moods, my eccentricities, even the weirdness of my speech (I have a Tourettes-like
speech impediment) to get his picture.
So being Bobs model is mostly showing up and doing what Im told with some almost
subversive collaboration thrown in along the way. Those times when Ive acted out in bigger
ways that resulted in photographs that were mood driven manic or depressed I was driven to
bigger expression than what Bob expected. And finally, being Bobs model when the subject
was just me. But being Bobs model over these years has allowed me to participate in the
creation of a catalogue of truly excellent art.
Then we collaborated the most. I allowed him into me as a subject and didnt hold anything
back. He shot the unvarnished truth as he saw it, unflattering though it may be.
m.r.
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This may be a relationship that only a mood disturbed person could withstand.
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2 first PortrAit
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3 frAmed
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4 metroPoLis is LooKing UP
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5 hAdes
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6 A boo gArb
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7 sPectre
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8 migeLito
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9 the screAm
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10 dArK shAdows / green wAter
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11 hAhAhAhAhAhA!
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12 i stAnd ALone
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13 herr richters LAPdog
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richness of uncertainty
Robert Fischers world is on no map to be found. When I first saw these images, I remember thinking I had
never seen anything like them before. They provoked strong feelings of attraction and repulsion at the
same time, like when you enter a completely unknown culture with rules and habits you dont understand
and even fear.
Underneath his vision is a dark and threatening incomprehensible power, the power of someone who has
seen it all, who has peered behind the faades of Happyland and who tries honestly and uncompromisingly
to define real values of his own. Bob builds on the ruins of an empty, void, crude world, without any
illusions or aspirations except for the fundamental believe in human tenderness. Seemingly anarchistic, not
hindered by any formal religion, by esthetic rules or by bourgeois moral restrictions.
The quest Robert undertakes is courageous and not without danger. It implies questioning not only whats
normal or acceptable in society, but also his own position. Without accepting any authority, subversive and
dissident, he searches heaven and earth he even descends into the Styx to detect and depict the
elements of his universe.
In his portraits and studioworks, Bob displays a true mastership in graphical arts. Moreover, he knows
the classics through and through, and he plays with their codes in order to create new meanings and
perspectives. The consequence is that Bob will never find a definitive identity. The new reality he presents
to us implies that identities and values are constantly shifting and evolving, uncontrolled and uncontrollable,
like the butterflies that so regularly reappear in his pictures. You can try to chain them to the bars of a bed
but theyll always escape, leaving the hunter with an empty net like what happens to all of us in our quest
for meaning. And exactly like this uncertainty, this unpredictability is part of the richness of our lives.
bArt rAmAKers, docUmentAry PhotogrAPher, brUsseLs
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14 mirror, mirror crAcKed
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15 mALoqUio
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16 m-i-c-K-y -- m-o-U-s-e
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17 godheAd
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18 bombAy beAch with wiLLiAm bUrroUghs LooKALiKe
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19 toss off
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20 my hoUse hitchcocK styLe
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21 Jitter
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22 wAiting for the robert e. cocKring
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23 sUcK the monster!
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24 AmAzoniAn cone heAd
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25 PicK one UP todAy
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26 dUst bowL
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27 sentry
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28 dervish
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29 LoULoU fALAis
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30 bLocK heAd
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revealing us to ourselves
In 2009, the photography world celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of
the publication of Robert Franks groundbreaking book, The Americans.
When The Americans was published, critics assailed its selection of 83
now-classic photos as a sad poem for sick people, denouncing the
photographer as a joyless man who hates the country. Five decades
later, after the massive social changes of the Sixties, we know better.
Despite his cool lack of sentimentality, Frank is the link between the
democratic vision of America shared by Frank Whitman and Walker
Evans and later photographic and anthropological adventurers like Diane
Arbus, Bruce Davidson, Lee Friedlander, and Nan Goldin.
Robert Fischer follows in that humanist tradition. Coming of age during
the Sixties, he followed a circuitous path to photography that may
explain his works unusual combination of visual authority, cultural
richness, and psychological depth. Born in Chicago in 1949, he earned
a psychology degree there but gravitated instead toward the artistic
hippie counterculture. Discovering almost accidentally a talent for
painting, he avidly studied Michelangelo, Caravaggio, Velasquez,
Picasso, Hopper, Avery, Magritte and Matisse, whose sinuous forms
and sumptuous patterns fused the spiritual tension of the German
Expressionists with the sensuality that Fischer admired in pop culture
phenomena like Busby Berkeley films and George Hurrells Hollywood
celebrity portraits. Working from photographs, Fischer painted portraits
that combined and juxtaposed cultural icons from different periods I
did my share of Marilyn Monroes and incorporated, for additional
visual punch, fabric, rhinestones and glitter, all meticulously glued by
hand.
Fischer was successful as an artist and, occasionally, even a dealer.
His talent for empathy, and for deep listening related to his interest
in psychology, led to a career as producer of neo-vaudevillian theater
events that assembled an incredible soup of unusual people punks,
freaks, wealthy business people, leather and rubber queens, leashed
slaves and suburban housewives from all walks of life. Fischer:
People who would never talk to one another, . . . [who] would walk on the opposite side of the street, . . . would have great conversations and . . . realize that there was no reason to be afraid, brought together under the umbrella of art.
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In the 1990s, Fischer began using photography instead of painting
to continue exploring gender, identity, and personality. His curiosity
about and rapport with people, his artistic assimilation of Avedon,
Bellocq, Brassai, Gilles + Gilles, Mapplethorpe, Newton, Penn, Sherman,
Weegee, and Witkin, and a prodigious work ethic produced over the
ensuing two decades a huge trove of ironic, absurd, romantic, erotic
and tragic images in five major series of work, Mark, My World, USA,
Heads, and Odalisque. The Bay Areas diversity and tolerance and
Californias tradition of reinvention provided a congenial climate for
these explorations; collaborations between artist and model, director
and actor (assisted by props, body paint, and digital manipulation), they
constitute Fischers psychological theater. In five major series of work
MArk, My WOrld, USA, HeAdS, and OdAliSqUe he plumbs the
psychology of color to reveal us to ourselves.
James Mann, former curator of the Las Vegas Museum of Art, describes
what he calls Robert Fischers Human Comedy as a gross, if not
grotesque, frank, free, full, forthright presentation of human ripeness,
as opposed to the fat-free austerity of slick magazine photography
enslaved to fashion. That dream worlds airbrushed artificiality and
pinned-down perfection are at the farthest remove from Fischers in-
your-face physicality of imperfection.
In a digitally connected global economy of increasing diversity and
complexity, with geographical and cultural borders diminished, were
increasingly asked to reconsider our provincial or insular values. Robert
Fischers humanistic but unsentimental photographs force us to be
both more truthful and more tolerant, as Franks The Americans did.
Its an idea that seems to be finally achieving widespread acceptance,
particularly among the young, who seem less troubled by the diversity of
the human animal. Fischer notes: Im sixty and I can still relate to people
who are twenty; they look at my work and say: Awesome! You are really
radical.
dewitt cheng
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31 Pride
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32 emPress of the Universe
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33 shes LeAving home, bye bye
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34 AngUish
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35 veLveteen rAbbit
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36 i reALLy LiKe to smoKe
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37 grAnde soy LAtte
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38 moUse in the stUdio
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39 cUmbersome Addiction
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40 Antoine And me
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41 oreo Love minUs one cooKie
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42 i Love the nightLife
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43 ode to degAs
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44 steeLed
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45 contemPLAting my fUtUre
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46 first dAte
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47 Lion witch wArdrobe
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48 in my bedroom
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49 in my bright shiny Kitchen
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50 bedAzzLed
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51 mAmA ALwAys Loved yoU best
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52 dAzed And confUsed
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53 the coLLector And the sLAve
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Guardian at the Gates of taste
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Bob Fischers images burn brightest at the edge of oblivion.
I have seen Bobs photography joyously wrestle with its own physicality over the last decade and his graphic, synthetic pictures are dizzying, confounding and uniquely moving.
Fischers elliptical narratives in which the protagonist forever shifts between disarming candour and veiled, grotesque theatrics has a fascinating cumulative effect and leaves a most pungent residue. This oscillation between the mask and a seemingly more intimate identity lets you absorb the characters in Fischers universe in amorphous, lovingly adorned fragments, yet it is quite often the obscured face on the verge of dissolving that is most emotionally arresting.
Lovingly hurled into the void, Bobs imagery is restless, garish, nightmarish and relentless inner flesh coaxed into the light.
AmieL coUrtin-wiLson fiLm-mAKer, meLboUrne, AUstrALiA
overLeAf: 54 rePULsion
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55 smeLL my toes
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56 mAgritte schPin
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57 LostUtterer
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58 Kitty LiterAtAi
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59 the fAt bLAcK womAn inside me
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60 JoKers wiLd
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61 Left oUt on the inside
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62 conversAtion
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63 sUb
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64 A PortrAit in bLAcK
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65 fAcing PArAdise
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66 A beAUtifUL PALm sPrings sUndAy morning
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oPPosite, toP: 67 PArAnoiAbottom: 68 wAiting for godot
69 deAth At the trAin stAtion
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70 im on my deAthbed . . . !
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71 Psychobitch
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72 two LAdies
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73 the fLUffer
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74 striPed torso
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75 Used friend
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76 its rAining ALL over the worLd
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77 cAsAbLAncA
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78 mAndingo PArty PLAtter
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79 down on me
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80 fridAesqUe
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81 didgeridoodAh dAy
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82 in seArch of the bLUe mAn groUP
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83 bUddAhs Pot-beLLied bLUes
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84 iLL fLy AwAy
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85 girLs on the Loose
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86 nUde descending A stAircAse
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87 deAd ringAh
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88 iPhigeniA At AULis
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89 bUtterfLy
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90 PUcK
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91 mePhistoPheLes
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92 hAtchet Job
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93 cLown
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94 im fAding AwAy, mAmA!
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95 soLitAry confinement
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96 Another sAtUrdAy night And im ALone
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97 JAcK in the box, 4 A.m.
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98 mArK in front of the moteL (wintertime, PALm sPrings)
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99 scAred shitLess
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100 PAeAn to Ken
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101 deAth of cAndi-o
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102 red bAAAAAAAAAAAAcK
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103 schism
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1vAriAtions on A theme
6
A boo gArb
11
hAhAhAhAhAhA!
2
first PortrAit
7
sPectre
12
i stAnd ALone
3
frAmed
8
migUeLito
13
herr richters LAPdog
4
metroPoLis is LooKing UP
9
the screAm
14
mirror, mirror, crAcKed
5
hAdes
10
dArK shAdows / green wAter
15
mALoqUio
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16
m-i-c-K-y -- m-o-U-s-e
21
Jitter
26
dUst bowL
17
godheAd
22
wAiting for the robert e. cocKring
27
sentry
18
bombAy beAch with wiLLiAm bUrroUghs LooKALiKe
23
sUcK the monster!
28
dervish
19
toss off
24
AmAzoniAn cone heAd
29
LoULoU fALAis
20
my hoUse hitchcocK styLe
25
PicK one UP todAy
30
bLocK heAd
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31
Pride
36
i reALLy LiKe to smoKe
41
oreo Love minUs one cooKie
32
emPress of the Universe
37
grAnde soy LAtte
42
i Love the nightLife
33
shes LeAving home, bye bye
38
moUse in the stUdio
43
ode to degAs
34
AngUish
39
cUmbersome Addiction
44
steeLed
35
veLveteen rAbbit
40
Antoine And me
45
contemPLAting my fUtUre
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46
first dAte
51
mAmA ALwAys Loved yoU best
56
mAgritte schPin
47
Lion witch wArdrobe
52
dAzed And confUsed
57
LostUtterer
48
in my bedroom
53
the coLLector And the sLAve
58
Kitty LiterAtAi
49
in my bright shiny Kitchen
54
rePULsion
59
the fAt bLAcK womAn inside me
50
bedAzzLed
55
smeLL my toes
60
JoKers wiLd
-
61
Left oUt on the inside
66
A beAUtifUL PALm sPrings sUndAy morning
71
Psychobitch
62
conversAtion
67
PArAnoiA
72
two LAdies
63
sUb
68
wAiting for godot
73
the fLUffer
64
A PortrAit in bLAcK
69
deAth At the trAin stAtion
74
striPed torso
65
fAcing PArAdise
70
im on my deAthbed . . . !
75
Used friend
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76
its rAining ALL over the worLd
81
didgeridoodAh dAy
86
nUde descending A stAircAse
77
cAsAbLAncA
82
in seArch of the bLUe mAn groUP
87
deAd ringAh
78
mAndingo PArty PLAtter
83
bUddAhs Pot-beLLied bLUes
88
iPhigeniA At AULis
79
down on me
84
iLL fLy AwAy
89
bUtterfLy
80
fridAesqUe
85
girLs on the Loose
90
PUcK
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91
mePhistoPheLes
96
Another sAtUrdAy night And im ALone
101
deAth of cAndi-o
92
hAtchet Job
97
JAcK in the box, 4 A.m.
102
red bAAAAAAAAAAAAcK
93
cLown
98
mArK in front of the moteL (wintertime, PALm sPrings)
103
schism
94
im fAding AwAy, mAmA!
99
scAred shitLess
95
soLitAry confinement
100
PAeAn to Ken