the art of performance is just around the corner.

  I don't understand, why doesn't she walk around covered in pigs-semen with a neon light sticking out of her ass that blinks 'free maria magdalena' and have chopped off all her fingers except her middlefingers.
Women I never understand, you are there girl.
O' right, your husband is photographer who doesn't like rainy days and you studied psychology, well that explains a lot: you both figured out that art is supposed to be horny and you have a great body with fake boobs while you are 30 something. So in what universe are you breaking conventions when it's also scripted by media and nature (in case you didn't notice, but you did judging by your high heels and flawless skin) that people should like to see butt-nacked beauty. And you should win the Peter Griffin award of hedonistic performance art or perverted playboy-art, because you are trying to sell your cheap art with your body too obviously. Any men castrated by your performance can't feel more shameless and less guilt then you have to, and I bet you never talk to the lonely bystanders and nobody ever explodes in outrage with the cameras around you. So much for the shocking part of your performance.
Good luck in your soapbubble with your airbubble and good night with that dress.