Wall pieces / Porcelain on wood 60x60cm / 2010
I was a noseblood kid.
It did not hurt. It just got messy and brought me nice attention.
My dad used to prepare a cup of small cotton balls which we kept in the bathroom cabinet. As soon as I felt the blood coming I went to the bathroom and shoveled up a cotton ball or two into my nose, then went back out and played with the other kids.
One time in school my noose started to bleed. The teacher called my parents who were two hours away, caught up in their jobs in the city. Instead of my parents our neighbor wife who was married to a car salesman picked me up at school. I did not feel bad at all when the fancy sports car loudly made its entrance into the school yard and I was saved to a wonderful free afternoon in my neighbour’s care…