
Mosquitos
Blood sucking little bastards that sting you in the night when you aren’t looking creating stress, discomfort and itchiness, no not the mosquitos, they are minor blimps in comparison to the real vampires; the art crowd. Of course some are kind, share your vision, encourage and emotionally support one another. These are the rare kind of humble bumble bees. Others though, judge you within the first thirty seconds of your meeting, discard you as trash because you’re unconnected and don’t look like a Dries Van Noten model and carry on sipping cava as if you’d never said hello. Unfortunately it is usually these people in charge of the places you want to be, the galleries you’d like to have your painting hanging, the museum you’d like to collaborate with and the pool you’d like to piss in. The only option to get in there? Buzz in like you don’t give a fuck. Yeah. Pretend you’re the queen bee with the big ideas and a giant fertile womb. It is sadly, the only effective way. One shadow of self doubt and you’ll be replaced next autumn by a younger more productive bee with more pheromones than a Kardashian in heat. To lose yourself in this world of who knows who is a crime against art and quite frankly boring �as hell; my advice, play the game, but play it better and let your sweet natured under appreciated honey bee friends thrive in the hive.

Bio
The fatal flower is the perverted shy girl, the one you wouldn’t suspect. Under a soft exterior lies a complex being with an unyielding wildness, anchored to the earth by her humble nature and inexplicable dry humour. She is the femme of now, the modern woman who’s thoughts transcend through cultures and time.
Over the coming months let ‘La Fleur Fatale’ be your guide to the hidden insights and stories of a watchful woman’s eye navigating through the ‘European’ way of life. Struggles and mishaps ensue as life is embraced and the thorny introvert femme clammers for life’s answers. All possible subjects are covered from death to Kim Kardashian and from sisterhood to the perfect strawberry frappe.
U zag deze toch ook?
- Goodbye to all that
- The small screen
- Lipstick and stockings
- The price to pay
- Here's my number, call me maybe
- Inappropriate Behaviours
- The internet
- How not to be a cunt
- Jobs for artists
- The Flirt
- Erotica
- Strange Fruits
- Your climate guilt
- Shopping Centres
- Bus Creeps
- The inconvenience of a creative mind
- The inconvenience of a creative mind
- Buxus
- Bread
- Likeability
- The Story of the Double Chin
- White on Black
- Temptation
- A fable
- Killer Heels
- You are already your mother
- Jesus died for somebodies sins, probably mine
- The Belgium Blow
- Suburbia
- The Politics of the Urinal
- Pills
- That time you found me on the bathroom floor eating a kebab
- Bewitched
- The luxury of love
- The road not taken
- How you have known me since 1857
- Bright Light
- The Billboard
- My beautiful friend
- The Great Aznavour Admirer
- How to spend your Thursday at the Hague.
- The Show Must Go On