The artist’s ability to traverse the time/space continuum with alacrity this week has caused for euphoric outpourings of ecstasy.
She no longer fears failure. The ever present cyclical spectre is powerless in the face of her qualified accomplishments.
ART: There is nowhere to HIDE.
Releasing her core sounds; vibrations emanating from the start of time; Cullinan gives thanks to the affirmations she finds deep within her psyche.
Studio work progresses with avengance, allowing for a serendipitous approach finds the artist fiddling with a minutiae of detail, each, like snowflakes, a unique individual that obsess her with their perfection. Tactile and easily lost; she sacrfices to them her displaced body to adorn.
Closure WILL commence.
