Kamil Kukla, Fruits and Maws. Painting, sculpture, music

In my spare time I browse websites like Reddit or 4chan. This is how I satisfy my rather embarrassing hankering for content, which is, generally speaking, improper, ousted and culturally repressed. These dark corners of the web have become a fertile ground for alt-right extremists as well as for a multitude of micro-communities fascinated by exotic fetishes.  They offer a haven to all kinds of deviants, a safe space away from the restrictions imposed by larger social networking sites that adhere to prudishness and political correctness. Here reign supreme the artists who create “lustful” images – visual representations of fantasies that cannot come true in real life for legal or technical reasons. One of such taboo – but especially fascinating – areas is vorarephilia, or vore for short. This type of paraphilia involves the experience of intense sexual arousal that comes from dreams, images or acts associated with devouring or being devoured by someone. Lustful pictures of that kind present complex variations of the perversion: the sheer amount of scenarios, concepts, and configurations is simply staggering.

I feel drawn to these kinks and quirks that exist in the cultural periphery, curated and illustrated by unknown amateur artists. They create images to quench the passions that might be deemed “sick” and which are, in essence, the most shameful fantasies and well-kept secrets of the most ordinary creatures who we pass by every day, with whom we work and shake hands on a daily basis.

What I do is born in the same recesses of the mind. I feed on what is artificial, impossible to embody, called into fictitious existence for the sole purpose of excitement. As an artist, I neither fulfill a civic duty nor express any noble reasons. What I paint, mold, form and knead is not a product of careful calculation and consideration, not a result of a calibrated intellectual or intelligent endeavor. All of it is “just” an expression of an internal trepidation; a fever that causes flushed cheeks, makes you drool, forces beads of sweat down your temples and unfurls a sweet yearning inside you.