Hudson text for Kinke Kooi catalog, 2009

i met the goddesses kinke kooi and cokkie snoei with a smaller darker haired siren whose name i dont remember tho know it sounded quite different, in the isolated warm glow of a streetlight during a very dark crystal clear frozen night in early 90s amsterdam. giantesses, both much taller than i, looking down at me with brilliant clear eyes, soft white skin, rosy cheeks draped by hair, and bursts of clouds from their mouths as they spoke. and there were also layers of soft textured clothes with distinct details, some metallic and glistening, and subtle modulations of dark colors. and leather boots, six of them. all in all formidable but friendly. i felt dwarfed. and aroused.

sometime way later i was wandering wondering thru kinke’s catalog, the one where everything is pink, delighted by the girlie, pussy, faggy sidetrack. its demur fit in my hand, rounded edges and the small softened and undulating monochrome representations centered on page after page tumbled me down its hole. this hole and the one that followed in the orange catalog, sucked me into their lovely delicate apprehension of the perverse multiplicity which emanates in and out of the codified world we more commonly acknowledge as true. that simplistic world is not as it seems, we do secretly know this and battle it with the false idealism of advertising, sameness, fashion, activity, personal hygiene products, and such things as visits to psychiatrists and meds. yet despite all that it frequently phones us back. kinke always takes the call. she’s on it, logging the message and passing it on. she keeps life full. she is not afraid.

as goddess is the love that nurtures and protects the universe, mother teaches her children, and artist exposes a truth.

think that each of kooi’s soft encapsulating lines is a thought. thoughts are sonic. it is now believed that sound travels faster than light. each thought has a frequency. the frequency is the information. the body understands this information before the intellect does. the body is constantly massaged by thoughts. the repetition of the line is vibration just as repetition of the thought forms a chant, an incantation, strengthening the communication. this is nourishment. this is mother. mother permeates everything. on a practical level, i think of kinke’s drawings as social responsibility, dripping with riches.

consider each of kinke’s drawings a meditation, an eyes open meditation, an illumination. sitting, in the buddhist sense, receptive. she sitting there drawing, you sitting there looking. this is food; we are eating, ingesting the other; chew thoroughly. dissolve the boundaries. embody. enliven. disseminate.

i like that she is so practical about her brutal honesty or that she is so brutally honest about her practicality to examine, like a word that has multiple definitions, the resonance of whatevers being denied, overlooked, neglected, hidden, and in need of recognition. she is also a scientist, a photographer, an investigative reporter, a witch, beautician, social anthropologist, psychoanalyst, cartoonist, massage therapist, stylist, surgeon, whore, realtor, jeweler, gynecologist, moon worshipper, darkness, rain, air, fire...

am i really everything that is outside of me?

vision is considered to be aggressive yet there is a mode of vision called the soft gaze where one can relax the hunting and be more passive and receive the information with fewer or few or no preconceptions. it allows intuition to pick up on what is really happening. should you allow yourself the grace to accept it, it is a way of examining by letting it happen to you. this is the way to enjoy a drawing by kinke kooi. i also think this is how she comes to recognize  what to evolve.

the enchanted and heightened kooi world whispers an ancient ever present future. her practice is benevolent and is all about allowing a looseness in your expanding awareness. there are no secrets. it is both student and teacher, a way to understand, a guide to a more encompassing world. the opening chest becomes the vagina, the mouth, the anus, the eyes, the ears, and the tendrils of the skin. perfection is not static and contains all the possibilities. sincerely hudson, whats a woman to do?