A Night at Kezamine’s Farewell Party

My night starts at the local, and my bartender makes me a Last Word, so I’m feeling pretty good. Last Words: I drink them, but never have ‘em. We also sip on some Naked and Famous cocktails, and luckily for everyone, I’m neither. After a few cocktails of this nature, I’m feeling famous enough, and it’s time to make a move.

I arrive with the swagger of someone whose name is on the door – maybe I am famous, but god help us, if I’m also naked – I do the initial lap, taking in the art and it comes as no surprise that it’s all fucking fabulous. This is gonzo journalism, so I’m allowed to be as objective as I like: Kezamine is one of my favourite Brisbane artists. Her art is grotesque and gorgeous. Her colour palette is not shy, nor is her style. Risqué rippling subjects grab their throbbing cocks as they stare down at you or fairies fuck in full fallatio. Fabulous!


Kezamine, being a saucy minx herself has a full show prepared, which she opens as her alter ego, Bae b Tooth. Kezamine captures the audience with contrast: She’s lip-syncing Eartha Kitt with her ‘heart belongs to daddy’ while stripping down and scalping Andrew Tate. She’s just a girl. We have millions of multitudes.


Kezamine MCs as more performers grace the stage. Britney is blasting, Tits are out, latex is looking good and a sexy vampire sings ABBA, it simply doesn’t get better…


Except that it does. My friend buys me one of Kezamine’s pieces. Yes, the one with the cock. I think I’ll perfectly position this piece to sit over my bed, looking over me; my guardian angel. I peruse the art one last time, Kezamine’s rich pallets and – almost – pornographic subjects make a marvelous art show and Brisbane will be sad to see the fabulous Kezamine go.

I end the night with a Dirty Martini, because I’m an adult and I still don’t know better (I’ll be hungover anyway, so fuck it, let’s get dirty)!