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The shapeshifting Jinn appears here in abstraction's referential amorphousness, a resemblance that, like inkblots, adapt to the viewer they appear to, and painted with a hapticness lending credence to its apparition as innuendo. Do you see the sunglassed DJ's hi-top fade, do you see a booty shaking, a wailing baby, or a pig outdoors at night through a molar keyhole. The dentist sees a horrible horrible cavity like a portal to hell. You leave a show and realize later no one saw the same thing. The void stares back as it were and the Jinn's phantasm in such concreteness erodes a certainty in material seeing.
“Comparing a sock to a vagina is OK, it’s done all the time, but you’d have to be insane to compare a pure aggregate of stitches to a field of vaginas [...] Salvador Dali, in attempting to reproduce his delusions, may go on at length about the rhinoceros horn; [...] But when he starts comparing goosebumps to a field of tiny rhinoceros horns, we get the feeling that the atmosphere has changed and that we are now in the presence of madness.” - D+G
See too: Alice Tippit at Night Club, Larry Poons at Michael Jon & Alan, Michael E. Smith at Sculpture Center
