In 'Paradise Rot,' Jenny Hval Traces A Surrealistic Sexual Awakening - best electric toothbrush 2015

According to the promise of the title, Heaven rot and oozes.
There is free play around "spit bubbles", "fat pearls", "wet mattress", "warm white balls" and "sticky black spots;
Apple meat bubbles between teeth, sweat forms a cold sweet juice, and velvet honey fungus sprouts from space.
This weird decoration is filled with only the secretions of a petri dish, which come from Dj thanoanna or Jo-a mousy, 20-year-
The old Norwegian was at the cusp of a fantastic sexual awakening in Aybourne, Australia's fictional seaside town last semester.
Lonely, stiff and dazed, Little Joe fell into an oozing erotic fantasy like falling asleep and falling asleep: slowly, then suddenly.
"Sometimes I don't know what's going on," she whispered in her psychedelic journey to abrne.
"I don't know how to explain it.
Same psychedelic (and Norwegian)
Is the author of Joe's life, Jenny Haval, more than one
Disciplined artists who like to study internal organs to find moisture and truth.
For the past 12 years, Hval has shown clammy wonderland in albums and art installations after clammy wonderland, and these albums and art installations show her about the terrible physical world
Her music is rich, the film, the spectrum and the muscles are developed, as if more opera films in Kronberg were re-produced for some reason
Biyork score-
Worship the body for eternity in a way that sounds like prayer.
In her songs, women appear in primitive, exposed, surreal shapes: sometimes at the moment of orgasm, sometimes pried away, turned into pieces, and often in extraordinary ecstasy(
"I got to town. . .
Electric toothbrush. . . pressed. . . against. . . my. . . clitoris. . .
"In her own name, the first line of the first song was removed from Hval's first record. )
Mucus, decay and pus;
Blood, spores, urine
All of this took center on the gorgeous and weird stage of her first novel, gluey.
Hval recalled in the Holy Land: "When I went to the United States, I found myself not myself," and her fifth album, revelation, the ending track of girl, was
"I can't be consistent with the landscape.
It reminds me that my body is new.
"Rot opens in a similar birth scene: Joe is not in the United States, but lands in Australia, she carries too much luggage, and when the fog hangs over the gray coastal hamlet, she is from the hostel"There. Not there.
"There, not there," she snorted with a calm lyrical voice, imagining her new life "new heartbeat ".
After a few weeks of fruitless
Long apartment hunter, Joe made an interesting friend in older Risom's long sleepy Callar Johnston, after she got home, at the remodeled Brewery(
The place is "original and porous" and is alive with nightmares and noise. )
Their common living space spans a stinky, huge cube with all the plasterboard and lofts covered with a thin layer of moss on the floor, but nothing is half as terrible and weed --
Like Joe's brisk narrative, running like crazy in her home turned into a silly psychopathic discovery wonderland.
As Joe said, this is a "rotten, smelling Eden "--
Not hell or heaven, but Joe's reality lives on an honest edge in jelly --Like a pause. Like the first-
The pattern of people often used in the art of Hval, Jo's voice parts like autobiography, parts like female agents, in dealing with a vague world, struggling with the sense of departure, uncontrollable feelings such as sexual preference or anxiety.
In her juice at home.
The runoff is thin, the emission of the Milky Way, the decay of rotten food --
Joe spent a lot of time trying to divide the world around her into two halves
Illusion threatens what is real and what is not.
Like fungi, strangeness is unique.
Things rot, scattered;
Will definitely condense.
The body changes with the sudden change of jumping fear, imitation sometimes
Great changes in adolescence.
"There's something on me that makes me think so. . .
Sometimes it's out of control, "Carra revealed when her body seemed to break up, soften into a paste, and join their little universe's dirtiness.
Just like an impromptu show on Helen Chadwick's "Ring My ring", when her hair fell off her scalp by a large fuls, it started, just like the chicken skin taken from the Golden Apple, it is mixed in the meat mud of their apartment.
"Unlike the works of magical realists like Bulgakov or Borges, the excitement in the decay of Heaven does not lie in the character's disapproval of evil and surrealism, it's just to feel Jo like we are ourselves and broaden her mind to cope with the unstable world around her.
Sex magnified the feeling ten times.
The liquid language of the novel-decomposition and stickiness, as if gathered from the floor of the home-sparkled in the dreams and movements of desire.
"For me, transformation is a more interesting narrative way than 'story'," Hval said in an interview with NPR 2015 . ".
"The reward is desire, which is not about inequality and dichotomy, but about liberation.
Maybe it's a fairy tale.
"I want to dress him like a coat and suck him out," Joe said of his former partner.
In fantasy, Joe has "claws and claws that come out of his fist" and his neck is slender like a swan.
"A unwanted kiss is a" Spanish nose slug worm with an itchy sound from the antenna [on the roof]her]
The "mouth", and the desired kiss is a "rush" where the stems, fingers, and veins spread in the body like new soft bones.
Compared with Hval's "continuous echo of split hymen;
She called "soft d * rock" in her fourth album, "Carnival black vegetable soup for hair and teeth," and "Rot often felt her lyrics mixed with a bunch of impressions.
Hval always seems to admire this cursed image as it implies the violence of emotional chaos.
But she is at her best in the novel and most successful, as in her music, when she allows herself to follow the twists and turns of crazy vision, to spiral back into a more mysterious
Heaven rot will only do so at critical moments, and sometimes not enough to pull the novel out of the novel --
Distant stupidity, but the paragraph pursuing this movement feels extraordinary, just like the translation of ancient eccentric fables.
Jo, for example, is halfway through a wonderful dream: Julia Kristeva, in her article, the power of terror, may refer to the decay of the whole heaven as a purely depressing work: "Things that do not respect borders, positions and rules. . .
Things that disturb identity, system, order.
"In art and in practice, it is a terrible, disgusting thing to mean --
Body, Blood and pulp
The man pushed it aside for the sake of life.
But the frustration is
By acting Jo and, more broadly, to Carral, to Jenny Hval-is life itself. Cindy Sherman —
A woman, who also creates an artistic presence by examining our bodies, our liquids, our flesh and the bonds between each other --
It could be the closest analogy for Hval to study the similarity between disgust and desire.
Sherman's sex photo series is one of many of her projects that cause visual ease, including clear images of invasion and mixed mannequin posed on wet forest floors,
Just like the characters in the sex picture, Hval is calmly swallowed up by weird and relationships with the female body.
In the universe of Hval, the flesh is never perfect, but to be detected, recorded, and examined with a hand mirror in the absence of light.
The curiosity of Hval is more than just an abnormal simple pleasure: it is intended to defile the idea of the female body as raw and plush (
Recall Eve's main role in Milton's Paradise Lost: "gentle her, sweet and charming grace ")
Reinvent it into a more terrible reality.
Perhaps more revolutionary than deformation is her breakdown of desire itself, breaking down desire into a terrible primitive state, and exploring how to alienate her strangeness;
When desire is new, eccentric and unreliable, how does the feeling of distrust come into being.
Or, that is, the nasty, threatening, small instability of attraction --
When realized, halfway, the feeling of crushing, it can feel how cruel penetration
The weirdness of the way it is mastered.
The cover of Hval's sixth album, Blood B *, Has Two Faces (
One of them is Hval's)
Peel off each other from where it looks like a skin.
This is a picture of two birds.
Fidelity, reminds me of a sex photo of Sherman. "Untitled (#305)" —
Where's a pair of almonds-
The toned mannequin vomited in the soft rapture.
"My breath is her breath," Joe intones barely whispers at the end of the novel.
Isn't romance all conceptual?
Although Carral and Jo's encounter is destined to be a dream, Hval's attitude towards sex should probably not be so shocking.
Desire is like internal organs, everyday, part of us, as reliable and intermittent as sleep.
However, there is a calculus when fantasy becomes a reality.
What can we stand?
What novel must we reject?
What happens when we realize that loneliness is a disturbing bloody thing?
Two years ago, Hval had written a song about this called Secret touch.
She sang, her voice curled up to heaven, "This is a kind of destruction, and most importantly ,(The most important thing is)
Absolutely necessary