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The Art of Capital

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  The art of Capital I stand here today as an artist, yes, but first, as a laborer. And my studio? It's not a free space. It’s a nexus, a battlefield where the abstract force of constant capital meets the blunt reality of cultural control. They call it a free market. I call it a systematic monopoly over the means of production. You think canvas and paint are the means? No. Those are relics. The real infrastructure—the essential, invisible currency—is visibility, validation, and market access. A tiny, elite constellation of galleries, auction houses, and institutions holds a chokehold on these channels. They deploy their massive capital to secure their monopoly, thereby expropriating our economic autonomy. They don't just set the price; they set the very terms of cultural existence. The outcome is the proletarianization of the creator . We are forced to sell our labour power—our very souls, our insight—back into a system that ensures capitalist domination. Our creativity become...

Celeste Luminous Transcendence


Overwhelm our logic
From personalized layers of interpretation
Feared, worshiped, and misunderstood

From folklore to fairy-tales my story circles
Threatening, protecting and wilding
This uncivilized self
This authentic nature
This warning
This I don't know

My predatory nature 
My sweat sweat talk
Something is not quite right
I am the death of me

Challenge me to confront
Better ruined than dead
In this dream of crazy sounds

I fiercely seek shelter
from ill wind
from shackles
from shame

Distant callings
Come back into the light
from devastation to heartbreak








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