Washing hung.
Off to the Tate.
I went the week before with a Japanese group I taught, Takara. But we didn't get to go the Hirst exhibition. It looked amazing, so I made myself go, even if it was on my own.
I'm not too familiar with his work, or what his work meant. Or even what he wanted to express or show. You definitely get it if you go and see it.
It reminded of that saying that I love:
"Once you see death, you will see life."
Pow!
A reproduction of life itself in torturous ways of deaths. Hirst' work is amazing, but I somewhat felt quite sad as I walked around and left.
Call me morbid, but I am definitely more a death girl than happy live life girl. I have always been and this exhibition made me realise how real shit is these days.
Am I afraid of dying? Nope.
An I afraid of getting hurt? Not even.
Oh god. I am a death lover!
Go see it!
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