She is Nature Slut. And she does everything you think a nature slut should and could do. She makes music&videos&fashion&art&poetry, she makes dreams and un-dreams, she creates reality; she is girl and woman, hero and anti-hero, virgin and slut, human, animal, artist, spark, and energy. But she is so much more than all of these activities and/or titles. Warrior princess seems to be so trite. She is a rainbow if that analogy weren’t so contrived. An untitled, unisex goddess might be the closest we get without being artificial. So, her decision to call herself Nature Slut, or Telepathic Goddess from the Future, not only summarizes her and her work, but there doesn’t seem to be a better, more accurate description for Bunny Michael (formerly known as Bunny Rabbit).
Bunny Michael is from nowhere yet everywhere. She is born of the mud that swishes between our toes if we were to walk through the jungle barefoot. She is born of the fluorescent colors of the 80s. She is born of the bee vomit that has just been regurgitated from a mango tree blossom. The only inkling we get of her ancestral line is through a picture of her mother, a Samoan queen, and topless picture of her stating “My female Samoan ancestors traditional dress was beautiful grass skirts and no tops, maybe that’s why I feel more natural with my tits out”. It’s no matter, really. For as you scroll through her pages, her identity seems to be more than mere name; she constructs herself from the energies she collects.
Taking self-portraits and unmasking identity both take on new meanings with Bunny Michael. She is omnipresent and omniscient; her god is within her and within us. These images, these repeated selfies, these twin replications, these comic-like depictions and photoshopped metaphors, are stylistic emulations of her god in order to show us ours. There are organic pastings or space-age collage work involved, but the staple is always her. She is always there, lurking, swatting, or penetrating. The portals through which we look bring us to the other, to ourselves, to the infinite. To witness god look in the mirror, she seems to be saying.
She invites us into her heart, a chakra/her uterus, to grow; exposing herself and her process, nearly. Shows us her god-gazing, or perhaps navel-gazing, aka self-love, done like a daily ritual. She is ritual and leg spreading, she is ceremony and bed humping. No, she is not at odds with herself nor is she personifying opposing theories; she is she and not she. Don’t analyze it too much. Enjoy it. Enjoy her; enjoy you looking at her. Become a Bunny Michael licker.
Her Nature Slut manifests in her clothing choices, or lack thereof, and her thematic return to the jungle, the tree, the soil. If she is not posing in an organic location, she, herself, takes on organic poses. Tribal-butterfly-pre-Colombian, Hindu, robot-alien postures; her nudity just another suit she wears. Her hand-painted clothing line teeming with third eyes and phrases like “sacred femme” and “revolution begins within”. The spectrum covered for the clothes only come in black & white.
The mixing of the past with the future is so abundant; it is in her spirit that shines through the skin, the clothes, the videos. Her videos and music almost tongue-in-cheek, both re-inventing and mocking the industry, both de-faming and glorifying. She aspires to a new level of fresh video vixen. Often without pants or wearing bra-tops, using pastel colors or psychedelic effects, she embodies both girl and woman, past and future, she and he.
Lyrics and poetry abound, trickling of subconscious memories, unconscious cravings, translucent prayers. Hieroglyphics of her own making, Bunny Michael talks and paints about love&sex, body&spirit, piss&energy, liquid&sky. Lining canvas and mouth, Bunny Michael spits tooth and nail, unravels coiled snake-like words chained to bones and hair, root and cloud. Something like Gertrude Stein or Kathy Acker, she teeters on using found language and creating her own; the word dribble, the letter drop.
If she touches a rosebud it is both hers and yours. It is a rosebud from the future made by pink aliens who learned to make it by entering the past and studying the gardening techniques of Samoan queens topless in an unnamed, florescent green forest.