I'm having a total Pat Brassington moment in my life. Really is quite fitting considering what I've been going through emotionally of late. I won't elaborate too much but let's just say it runs paralell with the "road kill" theme I often find myself toying with. That awful need to know about something that will either hurt me or disturb me deeply. I am so fascinated by these things that if I am not set straight I will let my mind meander to depths of darkness, only to find myself more fucked up than if I had just known. Brassington's work is that edge of knowing just enough about what is going on without being fully aware of every detail. She creates disconcertingly ambiguous imagined states that evoke uneasy tensions between bizarre, sinister intimations of menace and weirdly beautiful, benign harmonies. Using sexuality to confront, discomfort and intrigue, she knows what makes this lass a little crazy.
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