Johnny Heart was created first as a sculpture, then brought to life by magick.
He ended up with pale skin and blue lips with stitches.
(It was also inspired by Frankenstein & Burton’s Edward Scissorhands)
He is no ordinary “xombie.”
From Johnny Heart’s “La Maaza” by Rae Hachton
I haven’t felt or heard my heart beat in several years. I don’t need to in order to know I’m alive, but to know if I’m in love? The music box needs to tick. It’s the only way I have of knowing. Of feeling. Anything.
I haven’t felt either, in so long. But when I look at the François-Auguste-René Rodin sculptures, particularly The Kiss and Eternal Idol—the Lovers—I feel the dials and gears in my heart want to start counting for me again. I think the music is about to start playing again. It makes me want to perfect this statue I’m working on. I want to be like Auguste Rodin. Always in love.
Was he in love with his subjects? Did he make love to them? Perhaps only with his eyes—his ability to see them. The Beauty there.
I need to be able to see—a subject. I need someone to also see me. I want to consume art the way I consume hearts.
Hearts. Hear [ear] the art, the arts. Hear the art [heart] ticking. The art of life, the art of love, the art of being, the art of feeling, the art of the body.
If I’d consumed the hearts of great artists, perhaps I could construct like them.
Check put more of Rae’s extraordinary work at http://corvido-phile.blogspot.com/p/art-gala_12.html There will be two more features here tomorrow. One thing I found when working on this gala: art fiction is quite unusual, and precious. Get a glass of wine and savor Rae’s work aloud. You won’t regret it.