This letter is inspired by all the so called unsolicited proposal emails, everybody, who has even remotely something to do with offering exhibition opportunities, gets by the dozens. I collect these emails, as I am always intrigued by their tone, a rather psychotic split between worship and hate. When I was going through them later on for a piece, I started hearing a kind of prayer or better an ever repeated Mandra-like question.

(A question that does not cease to echo in your head by the way, even when you have a gallery, even when you ARE a gallery. A question that echos louder and louder in the silence before the storm of weeks like this..)
I composed this letter on the occasion of my first show with Krobath gallery last year. Its tone varies between a confession, a motivation speech, a wedding vow, and quite a bit of a serial killer-y threats.

This is the second edition, spiced up with quite a few events happened since in Berlin.
Legal note: 80% of what is insinuated in this letter is true, but none of it refers to my current gallery. And please stop asking about the pool incident, I will never tell.

Dear Gallery, 

please don't fuck this up for me.
Be bold, dear Gallery, be generous, be fair. Be tolerant with me, be understanding, be helpful (please also tell your assistants to be helpful too, they sometimes don't answer my e-mails.)
Please ignore the rumors of me being rude and particular, it was only that one time and I was just trying to make a point; and let us finally put the pool incident behind us, somebody must have put something in my champagne.

Don't put your hands on my thighs under the table dear Gallery, it makes me feel as if you are not paying attention. And please don’t borrow my oil colors either, it weirds me out. If you have to paint, just buy your own stuff, jeee…

I promise dear Gallery I will always have the odd work aside for you in my studio, no need to secretly start stocking them already. I will love and support you, even when I am rich, famous and have long left you for another one.

At the reception speech of my first Turner Prize I will acknowledge you with a nod of the head. (Look out for that). And yes, you can put that in a Press Release already.

And when you get stabbed at the back and thrown out of Basel for no good reason you can always go for drinks with me. (you will have to pay)
And when you get stabbed at the back and thrown out of Basel for no good reason, AGAIN, yes…I ‘ll hold the camera for you.

Love 

Despina

ps: I promise to eat all of my Schnitzel from now on
ps2: I attach all of my telephone bills for 2011 - it got a little crazy - I know.
Ps3: if you think this text is a bit too much, use the other one with the list of all my X boyfriends.