it’s another chicken.
My inspiration sits on my window sill watching me sleep every night. (Shoutout to Steve and the thumbs.) Chickens have infested every aspect of my life. Everything else is meaningless. God isn’t real, but chickens are. They are the ones who brought me out of the darkness into the light. They are the motivation that keep me alive everyday.
For materials, I used a piece of plastic that has the societally implanted idea of monetary value to purchase some dead remains of trees that have been shaved down into long, thin cylinders. I used some thin metallic sheets to shape into a hella thicC bod. I wanted there to be some mobile aspect instead of a lifeless body so I decided to make the eyes move according to the position of the chicken. Instead of just doing the eyes, I went and also altered the head so that the comb (top fleshy part) and the wattle (fleshy chin part) also moved. After getting the overall shape of a dead chicken, I covered everything in epoxy. For the bod, I found some fabric in the recycling bins in the fashion open studio room. I tore up the fabric and it had a nice fluffy texture, which I used for the main part of the chicken. For the legs, I found this other thicC fabric which I cut and sewed into shorts, stabbing myself multiple times in the process. I love sewing.
I decided to name him Midterm because I had midterms, midterms are spooky, and it was spooky season. You can present him as a lifeless chicken on a surface or you can hang him by the feet wherever you want. A lot of people think that Midterm is gross. I hung him at the window and everyone I live with told me to take it down. So I hung him on the door. Let the chicken live, dammit.
After hanging out with Midterm under my bed, he has decided to reside there semi- permanently.
Midterm having an existential crisis.
Midterm having an identity crisis.
Midterm, post- crisis.
Midterm has nicer nails than you. And he’s dead.
Midterm soaking up the artificial sunlight full of artificial vitamins.