Ulrike Bolenz

1 09 2012

I kept thinking of a butterfly collector. Ulrike Bolenze. Her work seems tethered to some terrible anguish. Perhaps to the pain that is obvious with a butterfly collector. Something in life has been terrorized, catalogued, than mounted. Perhaps this has nothing to do with her intentions. But it does seem like the kind of images associated with criminal pathology. (Or maybe I watch too many crime films.)

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