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Well, this is of course playing with words:
First of all, a collage featuring M.J. which I wanted to be as ambiguous as the artist himself. And, looking closer, there is something medical about it, in the way he is manipulating us or himself, with the loss of brain in both cases.
The prince I am speaking of here, is Richard Prince, the glorious painter of nurses. So, here I am too, I am not a prince, but a simple commoner, and my works, as you know perhaps, don't cost one percent of the Prince's.
My nurse is joyfully liberated, she throws all her clothes away, but keeps cautiously her mask, is that an allusion on safe sex or on a threatening epidemic? Collages are mysterious, their meaning difficult to seize, my discourse on my art so flat - I feel happy and stupid at the same time by these summer days.
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