you make pigment from boiled-down rotten vegetable juice, mix it with soap flakes, cornstarch, and molasses, and paint it on a canvas. the cows create the gesture.
somebody sends these heat-seeking radio-controlled gyro-copter cameras to watch the blotchy blobbers. they come out of nowhere and immediately start streaming their clothing-optional performance lifestyle to youtube. sometimes enough is enough and you need to take these things out with a handgun.
the blotchy blobbers are having their weekly clothing-optional karaoke drag show. they can really make a belt or a balloon work. they're reconstructing gender, love, sex, reproduction. they know that they will have the least environmental impact if they refrain from reproducing. if everybody could, our planet could be given back and the wild creatures could undo the human era.
these folks have broken away from the compound to escape the oppression of capital. property taxes and personal identities have made them feel like manipulated pawns of the system. now they just drive their vintage bus with the potted tree to some remote public land they can squat on.
this person knows that the greatest artwork there will ever be is a baby-doll on a hay fork, but that does nothing but create questions. do you keep making them until you make the perfect one, or is it the multiples that are effective? do you move on to barbie work? do you make only one and play chess? do you try to forget about it and get a job at the mall?