Transmission #8: Fickle Flesh Trickle Slick


YES HELLO, Reader!!!

Smiley greetings to you on this far out Friday! Here I am dropping another artful transmission during the day & hour ov Venus. What a lovely weekly ritual! Here's your sweet reminder to be kind to yourself. You deserve it!

Hey, cool! I am stoked to present this gruesome piece I spawned recently. It was glued on Tuesday the 24th ov November, but was composed over the last couple weeks.

Are you ready? No rambling trigger warning this time.

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Meaty Morbid Mystical Mortality Musings! Oh My!

I am also pleased to present the TIME lapse process video I stitched together for you so you can see what went into the piece and how much it moved around until the final glueing. There was one particular night that I worked on it for hours without filming due to phone battery depletion, but the bulk ov the birthing is accounted for in this speedy documentation. You may notice the progress jump!

To be brazenly honest, due to some unfortunate angles and harsh lighting I almost didn't share the process video linked below because it is quite physically unflattering, clearly capturing me in my comfy house clothes, hair a mess, in my creative wormhole looking like an old worm. I got self conscious because I don't normally see my face from that angle and I guess I didn't realize gravity had already taken such a toll. But then I decided WHATEVER, I am going to continue to get old and sag. This video isn't about convincing people my face is beautiful, this is about sharing my ARTE. Something that has the potential to DRASTICALLY OUTLIVE my Fickle Female Flesh.

After all, accidentally eating over 30 hits ov LSD in an oversaturated sugar cube on Christian Halloween (that's how I pronounce "Christmas") many y-eras ago taught me to ACCEPT that I am dog vomit wearing lipstick. It is okay to be dog vomit wearing lipstick, because that's just part ov being a biological mess with an ego. Accept your fickle flesh for what it is and have fun with the ever-morphing mess! Learn how to laugh at your entrails. I even got to ask GOD what the meaning ov LIFE is during that momentous trip. I was in KALI MA's celestial palace with my soul tribe and when I asked MA what the point ov living is she CACKLED and said "It's ALL just ONE big fart and dick JOKE in the end," so THANKS GOD! Thanks for consistently reminding me that we are here to HAVE A LAUGH and MAKE IT FUN! Not taking shit too seriously, especially yourself, is spiritual! It is GODLIKE to be a CLOWN. ANYWAYS, I digress. Having a human body is weird. Let's get back to the cool video I made...

All the footage is sped up 6666% and set to music from Alejandro Jodorowsky's Holy Mountain. It is a VIBE, check it out! Don't look at me, LOOK AT THE ARTE. This will open up Ye Olde YouTube:

video preview​

Did you notice I utilized some clippings from the temporary (glue-free) signature collages from the end ov both Transmission #2 and last weeks, Transmission #7? You may also notice I tried to make our reoccurring friend, hand-poppet Gomez, part ov this most recent piece when you watch the TIME lapse footage linked above. You can see me coloring his edges because at this point in the process I thought he had found his forever home. Not quite, Gomez! Your TIME is coming, mate! You will be immortalized with varnish and glue in a completed work at some point in TIME, I know it!

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If you listened to the podcast I was a guest on in last week's transmission you will know that Dr. Vanessa Sinclair and I are snail mailing each other source material and clippings so that we can do a long distance Sweden & USA collage collaboration. Cool! While going through books in my Scissor Temple and looking for images to mail Vanessa, I had a really magical TIME travel moment when I rediscovered some inscriptions from my MOTHERSHIP in a couple Dali and Picasso artist compendiums. Ov course I cried.

For those ov you who understandably can not read fading pink paint pen, or make out the wild angle words in the photo above, this is what the handwritten inscriptions to 12 & 14 year old me say:

Christmas 1999
My dear child,
I know that Picasso has been an inspiration to you in the past. Look to what others have created and then continue on your own path.
You are a creative, imaginative artist on your own; don't give that up.
Your loving mother ~
Christmas 2001
Hannah
One day your art will be compiled in a book such as this - an inspiration to others.
I love you ~

Thanks MOM! I am soul thankful I have a MOTHER who has supported and nurtured my creativity and unique expression my entire life, no matter how weird and transgressive it is or how much it challenges her comfort levels. I have put the woman through a shock factory roller coaster and she still LOVES me nonetheless. She is my biggest fan! My most loyal patron! So hey, MOTHERSHIP! Thank you for the TIME traveling LOVE letter MAGIC in some ov the ARTE books that I cut up today. May they find their way, reimagined from my MUSE, reprinted and compiled into artist compendiums that will inspire many future generations to come. Your LOVE for me is a precious gift from GOD. THANK YOU. I LOVE YOU!

Speaking ov ARTE patrons I am beyond grateful for: I received a deposit for a commission by the one and only Timothy Harshman this week! The esteemed Mr. Harshman, whose photography you've likely unwittingly seen if you are a fan ov pro wrestling, was not only cool & kind enough to commission a work, he is allowing me FREE REIGN to make him whatever I want. When I do commissions I allow patrons to select a theme and/or they mail me analog source material they want me to consider using in the work. It is all fine and dandy and totally cool to collaborate and work with people to create something catered to their interests, but the granted freedom to allow anything to flow out is FANTASTIC. I will be starting Timothy's piece next. Something for us all to look forward to! THANK YOU, Timothy Harshman for being a patron ov the ARTES and actively making my dreams come true! YOU RULE!

And hey, thinking back on my MOTHER'S LOVE, I know we are in the season ov familial gatherings and that it is challenging for some ov you. What a perfect opportunity to practice LOVE in the face ov discomfort. What a wonderful opportunity to attempt to LOVE the people you don't agree with. That's the kind ov shit that will truly heal the world. It doesn't matter if your triggering family member is too young or dumb or self-absorbed to even consciously notice you taking the high road and seeking connection and commonality rather than feeding conflict and defining your differences. LOVE has a sneaky way ov being more powerful than we give it credit for. The seeds ov LOVE always BLOOM. Let's all put our dumb divisive shit aside (I see you, every ism ever) and practice being cool & kind to one another. Amen.

I am thankful for each and every one ov you and I see the all-powerful spark ov divinity in you.

May yours hearts, minds, stomachs, and wallets be full.

May you be blessed with accepting abundance and joy.

& May you see GOD in ALL things.... even farts and entrails.

BIG LOVE

GOLD BLESS YOU

JAI KALI MA!

YOUR FRIENDLY CYBERHOOD NEIGHBOR,

P.S. If you are enjoying these uncensored transmissions and you know any other weirdos who may delight in weekly Arte, music and musings, please send them to hannahhaddix.com to sign up for the alienbroadcast! Or you could just forward them this email. Help me grow my tribe! Surely you can think ov at least one human who belongs here. PLEASE HELP THEM TUNE IN!

P.P.S. Since it is relevant to the holydaze, and I am amused by my own angsty poetry. This is something I wrote on Thanksgiving 9 y-eras ago in 2016. It's my Thanksgiving Poem.

I'm thankful for my blood stained panties lying crotch up on the floor for all the world to see.
I'm thankful for the bruises I discover that let me know I had a good time even if I don't remember.
I'm thankful for cannibalistic Aghori Babas covered in cremation ashes drinking polluted river water out ov human skullcaps.
I'm thankful for erotic nightmares, nocturnal emissions, and the way our bodies look like desert landscapes if you zoom in close enough.
I'm thankful for passing out while composing text sonnets to my ex before having the chance to press "send."
I'm thankful for painful erections, birth-control, sensory deprivation tanks, and the way old books smell like caves.
I'm thankful I've only been raped as a young adult and never as a child.
I'm thankful for the brain's capability of suppressing and rewriting memories.
I'm thankful for this holiday because it allows me to reflect on previous years to track and legitimize my suspected seasonal depression.
I'm thankful for The Tower tarot card, LSD, nature trails in Hell, and the innately sinister quality ov goat eyes.
I thankful for the love letters I receive from people I've never met and the criticisms I receive from people who know me the most.
I'm thankful for all the things that could go wrong but stay hidden in our fear closets allowing less traumatic realities to unfold.
I'm thankful that all humans have the opportunity to experience the liberation of death. The great equalizer. The grand finale.
I'm thankful for you, dear reader, seeing my blood stained panties lying crotch up on the floor and thinking to yourself that they are lovely.

PEACE! δΈ°HHδΈ°

π“…“ (𓁹𓁿𓁹) π“ƒš

---transmission over until next Friday---

Thee Archives: Transmission 1, Transmisson 2 , Transmission 3, Transmission 4, Transmission 5, Transmission 6, Transmission 7​

Hannah Haddix

ANALOG COLLAGE ART ON THE EDGE OV THE ABYSS

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