Love is derivative, like a reflection suspended inverted in the surface of a lake, a shadow, a bud birthed from the stem of a greater passion, but never the plant itself. This is because desire eclipses love, forming a core to our identities and actions that supersedes the more specific feeling of love.
Love is by its nature a subsidiary of lust. Of the desire to have.
Love is war, an imperialism of the soul. A struggle that demands endless proofs of subservience, wherein the ultimate goal is to receive the total surrender of another individual to your affections. Courtship like cannon-fire, and the nuclear arsenal of emotional turmoil always prepared to launch at the first sign of an escalating cold war.
If I am forced to represent the depths of human desire visually, it is the above. Destructive and lustful. A vision of pursuit and consumption.
A hunt for something beautiful that can only resolve with its absolute destruction.
-Happy (late) Valentines Day
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