Full - time Daydreamer, installation, video, writing, performance, Chelsea College of Art & Design, 2009
































It was February the seventh, Oscar Scar’s birthday. He had decided not to celebrate it. He didn’t feel in the mood of throwing a party and having to pretend he was happy of time going by. He didn’t feel any power over his life. He was sixteen already.
And he didn’t have many friends to invite anyway.
Therefore, having decided to spend his birthday by himself, Oscar Scar was lying on his bed, listening to the black metal band Mayhem.
He started thinking of Dead, the once leader and vocalist of Mayhem, who had committed suicide when he was 21 years old. Dead, as his nickname suggested, was fascinated with death, so much so that he believed he was dead already. Oscar Scar, differently, was very scared of death. What happened after? Oscar Scar didn’t believe in heaven. He wished he did, though, as the idea of not existing anymore was simply unthinkable.
But, at the same time, he knew death could preserve one’s youth, at least in the minds of those who were still alive. He thought of poet Thomas Chatterton, who had killed himself at seventeen. And that’s when he decided to celebrate his birthday by becoming Dead.
Now, he had some white and black face paint leftovers from a Halloween party. He didn’t have any blonde wigs, it’s true, but he reckoned that didn’t really matter as the makeup spoke for itself.
He took the white face paint and started applying it on his face. He hoped he was going to be sixteen forever.
......................................................................
....................................................................
Oscar Scar was walking down Camden Town High Street without any particular place to go to.
It was Saturday afternoon and the street was packed with tourists, sellers and kids into all the possible styles one could think of: Emo, Punks, Goth, Indie, Mosher, Mod, Hip Hop, Cyber Goth, Metal, and so on.
Oscar Scar let himself be enveloped by the colorful crowd. The music coming from his headphones covered the noise of people’s voices, cars and the market, making Oscar Scar feel like he was watching a movie with a meaningful soundtrack.
He got in one of the many shops that sold t-shirts of heavy metal bands, leather trousers, hair dye products and Goth accessories. There were a series of slightly different shaped and sized metal wristbands on display nearby the shop’s entrance. He imagined himself wearing one of those band wristbands and that thought led him to picture himself being the singer of a death metal band. His imagination indulged over it, taking in consideration every detail of his appearance: long, straight hair, corpse make up, cruel look, and pseudo - satanic symbols printed on his torn T-shirt.
When the shop assistant asked him: “can I help you, mate?” his daydream was interrupted.
He pointed distractedly at the wristband, and said: “I want that one.”