“BITCOIN BITCH” – Women’s Crypto Empowerment

“BITCOIN BITCH”, MISS AL SIMPSON, 2021

“Bitcoin Bitch” stares you down in an urban setting, graffiti wall her temple. For she is a goddess. Do not be misled by her street style or snarling attitude, she is Hecates with her faithful dog guardians. She stands with the power of witchcraft, the magic of crypto currency as her power. A Bitcoin hangs from her neck like a snake, representing this power.

I have just finished this digital painting “Bitcoin Bitch” and my name is MISS AL SIMPSON. I have sold the most ever artworks on the main 1/1 platform, Super Rare and I have already exhibited a digital NFT in Bonhams first ever NFT auction in London. I am exhibiting “Bitcoin Bitch” at a crypto art exhibition ‘Dreamverse” in New York in November 2021. I am able to do so as I am one of the many female crypto artists making a reputation as a serious artist globally. I am doing so by utilising the power of a global revolution that is more powerful that the internet – the BLOCKCHAIN.

As the artist, I may not have dyed blonde hair and a bespoke Bitcoin Bitch oversized puffer jacket but this piece feels like a self portrait of sorts. For the magic of cryptoart and the blockchain has served me well. It has made me and so many women like me empowered. True empowerment comes from within and I think that on some higher, esoteric level, the blockchain can be aligned with that personal empowerment. This alignment is something that women in particular can tap into. We all represent some kind of ancient goddess – it is encoded into our archetype. We are taught from an early age, in this patriarchial world to disguise it, hide it, dismiss it. But, it is still there, as dormant as a sleeping Doberman guard dog. Sleeping but powerful and aggressive when roused.

I wish that I could sugar coat this but when I first came across the blockchain and cryptoart, I was not feeling empowered at all. I had given my power away for so long that that first taste of pure self empowerment again after so many years tasted like freedom. And as soon as I did, I woke up my guard dogs and slung that Bitcoin snake symbol around my neck and started making and tokenizing as much art as I could.

Obviously, there are still concerns about equality in cryptoart as there are in the old art world but this time, it really is different. If you are a female artist, analogue or crypto, sling that crypto symbol around your neck and start tuning into the blockchain.

What crypto will do for women is beyond our imagination. Crypto female empowerment is going to change the world.

We will no longer be slaves to outdated marriage institutions.

We will no longer give up our financial freedom to bring up our children.

We will no longer be seen as inferior in any way.

We will stand like “Bitcoin Bitch” with our crypto and guard dogs, empowered and powerful, with the remains of a desiccated patriarchy at our feet.

View “Bitcoin Bitch” on Super Rare Art – HERE

L.A. GIRLS

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“L.A. sunset glows against the old muscle car. The L.A. Girls rule this part of town with their disintegrating beauty, always balanced delicately on the edge. Neon stiletto teases the beer can on the ground which in this hazy glow sparkles like diamonds. They are owned by no-one and their freedom is carried firmly in their beatnik sneers and dark red lips. They learnt a long time ago to trust no-one and to love only this wild urban landscape.”

AVAILABLE ON KNOWN ORIGIN – HERE

NYC COMMANDER

The New York Times wraps around her consciousness in the harsh NYC sunlight, like cheap trash caught in a gust. If only she could be as NYC as that beautiful rag? Leather cap on and attitude to match, she cleans up the graffiti with a saintly smile. She feels at home here, down on the sidewalk, cleaning up these mean streets but she hides a deep dark secret. By day, she is the NYC Commander but at night she spray paints a new identity on these poor city walls. Drips of paint brush against her rubber mac soul as she fights two identities on these NYC streets.

She is a true NYC street fighter. But she has only one enemy.

Herself.

NYC COMMANDER

CHECKMATE

How many moves does it take to checkmate? Three, ten, fifteen? Maybe. But what happens when you don’t even know you are playing chess anymore? You have attempted checkmate on me so many times that I lost count of the moves and the chess games played. I tried so so hard not to play chess with you. Tried to move on and let it go but you were still there with the chess board attempting to checkmate me. With all the key pieces and the centre stage, you always assumed you would checkmate me. You hounded me across the board relentlessly. For years. I always had to watch my back. Always watching the board. Always anxious. Always worried.

Then, eventually, you forgot that we were playing chess. You took your eye off the ball. You looked around for a second and I seized my chance. I took your queen and checkmated you in one move.

It took me years of chess but I finally checkmated you. I did something you never could.

Checkmate.

CHECKMATE

MALIBU DAYLIGHT DANCING

He woke up with sunshine on his mind and music streaming in through net curtains. As his eyes blinked, he suddenly remembered that he was in Malibu in the middle of the afternoon and that meant only one thing. He slid open the door and stepped out into a fluorescent green lawn, light bouncing off light. He shut his eyes and started to dance and dance and dance. Malibu daylight dancing was always the best and he had forgotten how good it felt. Break dancing in the back yard, he was lost in a world of flora and fauna; a blur of hedonistic dancing joy. He was in sunny Malibu and he could forget about everything for one more day…

MALIBU DAYLIGHT DANCING

 

WEST HOLLYWOOD IT GIRL

‘She was something of a legend over on West Hollywood. It was well known that her skills lay in predicting the future through chipped china teacups. If she liked you…

You entered her small 1930’s bungalow, past golden gilded Indian statues that stared with expressions of wonder and helpless awe. She would glide through to greet you with the haughty air of a forgotten Hollywood diva. She was breathtaking in her beauty, dark crimson lips set off by the blackest of curls. It was rumoured that she took the souls of men that she loved and encased them in gold gilt statutes, forever to admire her, forever to love her. Every man who entered her lair forgot about the rumour as soon as they stared into her dark eyes of seduction.

Beware the West Hollywood It Girl. She may tell you your fortune. Or take your soul for eternity. Her choice. Never yours.”

 

HOLLYWOOD IT GIRL copy

CRIMSON MASK

The blackest of woven silk was her uniform for tonight’s performance. She admired her glance in the ornate mirror in the ink room. She hastily tried to pat down spiky pixie hair but it was standing up on end. Never mind, with her translucent red mask in place, she was fully armed for the outside. And fully disguised.

She knew that her sad eyes reflected far too much, but the crimson red saturated the desolation and gave them a rouge mystery that was hard to read. And that was all she needed in order to mix in the crowd unnoticed.

 

RED MASK II

THE GREY MASK

Haunting eyes sought comfort in the winding cobbled street, wet with rain. This was her home and she had travelled a long way to return to this wayward place. The stepping stones were still in place, hidden well. She would know her way, even in the dark. It was designed that way. Had been for centuries before and centuries before that.

She wrapped the Grey Mask up well above her face. It would not do to be discovered on this cold day. Not here. It was far too dangerous. There was only so much that magic could save you from. There was a power in this place which threatened so much more than raw magic and the thought of it sent shivers down her spine.

Her fearful eyes were swaddled in grey lace. A lace so fine that it looked like spider’s gossamer, spun by an ancient spindle. The Grey Mask was a beautiful shield and a protection like no other.

At this moment, on this cold day, it was all she had…

THE GREY MASK (1) copy

HER RED MASK

She still looked more pixie than female; something not quite of this world. She tried hard to disguise the light tips of her ears but even the red mask was no match for them. Donning a black ink feather cape and pearls, she stepped out into the foray, breathing heavily.

The red mask was strangely translucent and hurt her eyes so she stopped to rip a square in it, to allow her eyes to see. Other mask wearers stared at her insolence with disgust. She was well aware that blatant insubordination was a sure sign that she was an imposter but she had to risk it. It was important that she could see properly.

She did not realise that here, in this place, this action would reveal far too much of her pixie soul. An action that she would forever regret.

HER RED MASK.jpg