Baby Lyn Blanche is the crazy but beautiful grand-child of Marilyn Monroe, Judy Garland and Blanche Dubois.

Rapparabbit is one of the rabbits from the Slightly Strange Theater - the theater of alter-egos of Noemi Veberič Levovnik. This rabbit is coming from the Gangsta America, bringing the night and the party with the sound of it’s blinging chains and shaky buns, creating a sexy bloody celebration of menstrual bliss.

The singer is beautiful, mysterious and other-worldy. I've always loved the Blue Velvet song from the movie by David Lynch. It was one of my main inspirations for the singer characters/costumes and atmospheres of my singing numbers, where I appear as the 'Singer' or the 'Diva'. There is also other cinematic diva characters that are an inspiration, for exemple, the movie Diva, by Jean-Jacques Beinex. My diva is sometimes a bit whimsical, or at least my approach towards her - she can be a real diva sometimes, and on the other hand, her hands tremble sometimes, when she comes on stage, from stage-fright. She is incredibly fragile, but that is part of her charm.

A dance with an invisible presence.

A dialogue with a space (an old house with a long history) and with a famous deceased artist, Mihelic, and his characters. Dreaming in those rooms and bringing dreams into visual manifestation. Performing in own installation, video becoming part of the installation. Performing with the installation and the recorded performance. A dance with an invisible presence.

Looking for the nightlife took to many life-forms - work in progress performances but also an installation with live events. This was the first event at the opening, and it was a party, the gallery transformed into a special kind of club, for one night only, and the visitors partied inside the installation, trying on the costumes that hung in one corner, laying on beds, eating candy and drinking water... Felis Catus was our DJ, and I the VJ, in the skin of Alica Double.

Vogue. Vogue your heart out. Fuck your brains out if you can. When you wander at the back, in the yard, and you go into a wooden barn. Or in a cabin. 

In the middle of the stage. The stage is bare and you are bare, a naked soul. What is this body of yours, pure unbridled luxurious flesh, incredibly heavenly and baroque. What is your face? What are your eyes and your gaze? Life itself. What is life? What is the itself of it? And of your eyes and your boobs and your skin? And your tongue?

Kathy Perry looking at me with a shimpanzee at her bosom. Her face is pure abstraction, it is the wonder of god. Everything is if you think of it. The green grass upon which lays a girl with white panties. And the taste of words. How words have meanings attached to them. How words exist in their form, that is almost there to be licked and held in mouth and tasted and the corners of the word stick out and against the palace of the mouth and extend the mouth forwards, pushing the lips.

Cosmos. Cosmos. Taste the word.

A show that has not yet been made. Waiting for a place, a time, and some funding :)