Here in Barcelona, I have found a few more for the collection.
As in previous such photographs, it’s about juxtaposition of odd, found elements (in the detritus of old posters) that seem to work together (at least for me) to carry a story or message about women and their experiences.
The Queen sticks out her tongue in zombie-like psychedelic irony at the many class and testosterone-fueled revolutions of history:
Woe to she who takes one step beyond, striving upwards, bumping against the glass ceiling, or (surprise!) even cracking through it. “How do you sleep at night?” (“¿Duermes?”), asks the threatening bearded Neanderthal caveman:
“Dad’, screams the daughter, “put down your stupid phone and come to dinner!”, as her goofy older brother and no-longer-caring-and-blacked-out mother look on:
The flower girl, pursued by five small fish (or, perhaps, large whales writ small), says, “When a flower doesn’t bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows…not the flower.”