Bone white

Day 252 of Current Days: The process

I like bleach. It never asks me anything: Why? What for? I pour it, and it does its job. Which is: it bleaches.

I pull on latex gloves and, with a slight look of disgust, take out the bundle. The skull has been sitting in the bag for almost half a year. I don’t really know what to expect. Has it gone moldy?

I dump the contents into an empty laundry detergent bucket. Not bad. The bag, though plastic, wasn’t tied tightly and let air through. No mold; everything is dry. An intense scent of the forest rises up. A mixture that brings to mind damp earth, plants, and tissues decomposed back into the soil. Quite a pleasant blend. A real landscape flashes before my eyes. Perhaps I should have kept it uncleaned, in a jar, just to take a sniff of that aroma from time to time?

I rinse the skull with the shower head inside the bucket. Two dead woodlice spill out from its interior. Poor things—they died an unnatural death. I pour out the water from the bucket and flush the tiny corpses down the drain with a stream of water. I continue rinsing the skull.

I try not to waste too much water, rinsing away only the visible bits of plant matter and dirt. I pour the bleach. A lot of bleach.

I add water, more gently now, so it doesn’t foam. I leave the bucket to its own devices in the corner of the bathroom.

I feel that the day is coming.
I am ready to get acquainted with a very handsome gentleman.
His name is Perhydrol.

Bone White, Meditation over a Roe skull, 30×40 cm, Oil on cardboard, 2024.

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