Read more, beauties. I recently discovered a wonderful piece of art by Tracey Emin. It’s called ‘My Bed’ and it is basically a bed that Tracey Emin stayed in whilst feeling depressed and suicidal over a failed relationship. I think it’s a good representation of depression.
There was considerable media furore about this, particularly as the sheets of the bed were stained yellow, and the floor surrounding it had items from her room such as condoms, empty cigarette packets, a pair of knickers with menstrual stains and other detritus including a pair of slippers. The bed was presented as it had been when she had stayed in it for several days feeling suicidal because of relationship difficulties.
Do you not think that ‘My bed’ is not the perfect representation of depression? Depression I find is so romantized but it’s not a thing to be romantized (or is it a thing to be ashamed of) but this is the dirty end of it. The end where it isn’t all deep pain and scars but bad hygiene and comfort. It shouldn’t be a desired trait in people. It’s just perfect.
This is Tracey Emin. She’s really awesome. She also created “Everyone I have Ever Slept With 1963–1995” which is also cool. It was a tent which was appliquéd with 102 names of all the people she’s ever slept with in it, unfortunately though it was destroyed in a fire at the East London Momart warehouse and she didn’t want to recreate it. Which I say good for her! One of a kind and if it gets destroyed, it gets destroyed. By the way, slept with means the innocence sense of the word. It goes from the people she merely shared a bed with, to everyone she’s fucked. Which just, is amazing to someone who has manic depression and finds intitave art like that the very best.