Leah Alice Prostitute ❤️

About Bloemfontein

Oi, precious, listen up! Me, a raftsman, floatin’ down life’s muck—hiss!—talkin’ ‘bout them prostitutes, yeh? Nasty, tricksy world they got, rollin’ in filth and gold, ain’t it? Saw one once, dolled up, struttin’—like she owned the bleedin’ river! Reminds me o’ that flick, *Synecdoche, New York*—all them lives twistin’, mixin’, like a big ol’ mess o’ string. “What’s time to a pig?” she’d say, prob’ly, laughin’ at us fools.

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The collected memoirs of a San Francisco sex worker, their effect on society at the time, and where they fit in today's world.

Ever been to the abandoned railway yard? Nah? It's hidden, rebellious, full of memories and graffiti proclaiming freedom. I once found a rusty banner that read "We are the dreamers." It made me wonder if life’s all just a crazy ride through leavin’ and goin’, like that line in Leviathan: "In the abyss, hope flickers like a dying ember."

Frozen in Time: Alice, the ghostly sculpture in crystacal and fibreglass at The National Arts Festival