We would travel to wherever we wanted and create however we wanted. It was our play and everyone needed to move aside. We called ourselves Bonnie and Clyde; it was our joke and to this day, she's still in my phone as agent pussy cat and I liked to think of myself as 007. Smooth and always boarding a plane to somewhere exotic with my Playboy cover girl muse for another undercover assignment. We were the real deal and never failed to bring back the goods. 

To me, Marisa Papen was like a screaming PJ Harvey smashing her guitar all over the stage. She was the loudest heavy metal, like thrashing guitars, a speedball straight to the brain, and she wanted to tear your little world apart.
A tormented souls on fire and on the loose, wanting to tear everything to pieces that even remotely pissed her off. Any kind of rules or old belief systems were blatantly ignored set a blaze and even taunted and then burnt to smitherines simply to outrage the sheepish people who blindly followed them. And for this very reason is why we got along so well. It was our destiny. We came together in an explosion that went as fast as it came to make art that will never be created again. There were no rules in our world and friends fell by the wayside because it triggered so much in people.

It's only now, with the current happenings, that I'm even more grateful for what we accomplished in the four years we had together. It was never easy being constantly on the run from police in the countries we would shoot in.
I remember in Rome, we were detained and put in a small jail cell for maybe half a day. The police interrogated us, had then googled us and accused us of being activists. They raided our Airbnb and found a giant wooden crucifix I had made for one of Marisa's shoots in front of the Vatican. There were uniform and plain-clothed police everywhere crawling through this poor guy's beautiful Airbnb apartment. They seized our laptops but couldn't get into because we wouldn't hand over the passwords, lucky, because our second night in Rome, Marisa posed nude in front of the Vatican with this cross, and all of the shots were on the computer if they found them who knows what would have happened. In the end, no charges could be laid, but they warned us that if we were caught again, they would confiscate our gear, and we would be charged face court.

The very next morning at around 8 am we were caught red-handed shooting in front of one of the biggest icons in Rome, the zxxxxx while a plain-clothed officer asked for passports and radioed for police, we which we could see driving towards us, it wasn't an option and this time we had no choice, we decided to make a run for it across a six-lane highway and through the small alleys and ending up hiding in a small cafe for hours. I remember the buzzer to our apartment rang for hours afterwards, but we dared not answer it. This was the norm for us.




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