A Monument to Chronology should be made of copper, so patina can record it's days under the sun.

A Monument to Chronology should not be too large or too small, but find presence somewhere between.

A Monument to Chronology should be stacks of things, like the sediment of time in layers.

A Monument to Chronology should mimic the growth of a tree with sheets of paper, one after the other in diligence.

A Monument to Chronology should evoke the space of a second within a minute within a day within a month within a century, and be strung together with a rod through it's core.

A Monument to Chronology should be etched with drawings of circles and all the shapes we see in nature, like the man in the moon.

A Monument to Chronology should be a tool for measurement, telescoping forwards and backwards to represent all time - for everyone.

A Monument to Chronology should be a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, to help in remembering "the torch was lit from another before you, and another and another before that . . ."

– G.W.W.


Enviro-mental, 2017
Braille sign, acrylic

Antique sentiment (Pieta), 2017
Charred wood, paint

Le Decrottoir (The Shit Scraper), 2017
Knife, blue stone, steel, bristle brush


Hermes is the guide into the underworld via communication and interpretation (and creation) of symbols. Jesus, while not himself a "block" to the underworld, is definitely utilized as a block by the church, as a kind of controlled demolition of the entrance to the underworld. The myth that dies/is buried, along with the idea of reincarnation, wherever christianity went is that earth is hell or rather an odd purgatorial realm with more below and more above. Jesus' teachings (if heeded) allows one to be social in an ever expanding, ever globalizing, ever hostile world. Hermes allows one to do the same but in the "unseen" world. It sounds like you are already in the narthex, why not relax and stroll about for a bit? (…)

The society of the spectacle is simply a hazy affirmation that politics and materialism are merely chapters in the history of religion, not a new phase of history proper, rather a brief forgetting of what history and religion is, what it's capable of and how one "finds" (and uses) it. -zummi


Help Me

Princess is pleased to present, Help Me, an exhibition of new work by Lulou Margarine. In this exhibition, Margarine will present three new works on paper in charcoal and oil pastel. In this series Margarine has reworked an earlier composition (Portrait, 2015), narrowing the frame around the subject’s enigmatic eyes. In many ways, Margarine’s composition is the new Mona Lisa.

Lulou Margarine (b. 1984, Dallas) lives and works in New York. Margarine has exhibited in a solo presentation at Egg, Chicago, and in group exhibitions at 0dX, Berlin and Queer Thoughts, Nicaragua. Upcoming group exhibitions include Life Sport, Athens and Et al. etc., San Francisco.


the woman places an
oasis into a vase
a tulip balloon floating
over peace lilies
landscape as archive
faces on flowers
the difference between
power and botany

Q: What is this sticky stuff all over my car?

A: At this time of year I am often asked about what is colloquially known as 'honeydew', but is, in actual fact, aphid droppings!

Curious things arise from desire.

Tiberius loved cucumbers so much that he ordered the construction of the first known greenhouse so that he could indulge his voracious appetite for those elongated melons year-round. Bringing the garden indoor was the first step in cultivating a human-made nature. Through processes of speculation, trial, and error, scientific experimentation helps us to control unpredictable elements that might better yield results in our favor.

The image of a bountiful bouquet reflects our ability to arrange desired elements plucked from nature. With the planetary fields of biochemical and geological determinism, how has the bouquet adapted?

Welcome to the Age of Precarity.



A beekeeper begins reading a story. The story's words are written in an ever-expanding combination of number and symbols. The numbers and symbols are variables in the evolution of a self-generating algorithm. The algorithm's rate of growth and complexity is accelerated exponentially with the calculation of each sentence. The beekeeper watches in amazement as the code continuously compounds. This is a story about growth. [Honey, I shrunk the kids.]

The beekeeper now understands a few specific memories from its past as dots connected in an abstract timeline; a count-down to worldwide integration. Juvenile fictions from the past mature into a fact called future as echoes of an empty present find resonance in the form of a relentless crescendo. [Honey, I blew up the kid.]

The beekeeper folds the story in half, adding dimension to the previously flat narrative. The angle breaks the equation. The algorithm reverses into a degenerative free fall. The incoherent gibberish of an increasingly intricate self-similar pattern crystallizes into a beautiful downward spiral. [Honey, we shrunk ourselves.]

The story's new edge cuts the suspense. A concluding event appears just over the horizon. A string of taps against a bed of dormant solar panels resembles a fruitless drum-fill awaiting an overdue punch-line. [Honey, we don’t have any more Honey.]