by Mie Hansson

This is me. This is my self-portrait. Naked, juggling on feet, my flesh and bone wrapped in tape which warns of the breakability the person harbours; which suggests it be handled with care and consideration. I am displaying elements of weakness which are as prevalent in my body as the spryness of strength and therefore deserves no less than equal attention. Why? Because whatever i contain, of pride and shame, ultimately forms my character as a unit. And in wanting to become superior to my previous self, i must first come upon whichever elements in me i wish to rise above; that i wish to change. There are voices in my head, voices as real as lightning strikes, twittering and chattering of insecurity, envy, self-consciousness. Demonic voices of vice, of jealousy, of all them things i silence because by not giving them volume, i hope to keep their music down. On the wooden piedestal where i sat, waves of suffocation flushed in on me when i realised i had positioned myself within walls of fear and confrontation. In being strapped down by my fragility, the weight of weakness won over weight of strength. I took a pause, a breath; a different approach. Stay calm little woman. Stay calm. Surprisingly resolute, i surrendered to the truth. Like a corporeal present i began unwrapping faults of my character, and in freeing them i gave them room to openly surface. To have a word with them, unafraid, and their activities and origin.

This is me. This is my self-portrait. My flesh and bone wrapped in tape which warns of the breakability i harbour; which suggests i be handled with care and consideration. But no one else but i must handle myself with care and consideration. I am alone in this. This is my character. This is my body. This is my one life. I cannot breathe in a place of suffocation. So, knowing my targets, i pull my father’s rifle, hoping to watch my demons fall to the ground like clay pigeons.

Photograph captured by William Walsh

LĪBERĀNDUM opens at the Exposed exhibition, curated by Blair Zaye, at Ben Oakley Gallery in London @ 11.08.16. For more information, visit: benoakleygallery.com

LĪBERĀNDUM @ Ben Oakley Gallery


My latest work LĪBERĀNDUM
opens at the Exposed exhibition at
Ben Oakley Gallery in London on 11.08.16.

For more information: benoakleygallery.com


Fried grass on a coastal plain. Ancient stones,
Barren trees, wild waning weed . . .
Blows a scarlet opium flower, on her own,
Like a soprano on a murky desolate street.
Almost sacred to me—singularity—so i silence my greed.
My hands remain lapped, and still, as i feed her memory.

Within this sickle of indifference and lethargy . . .
I fathom my whole heart in that lone stem of beauty.

The Florentine Stroll

The night has sunk on these medieval streets.
I wander dreamingly through waves of damp and Jasmine . . .

In three days, i motion on to Rome, keeping the ball a’roll;
There is still page-space available in my little brown book . . .

In six days, all clocks will pause. And i will
Sniff his scent as if my nose was blocked.

May 27

Beginnings are bred by endings. The end, therefore, is pregnant.


photograph by Tobias M Kraft