What happens when propaganda designed to erase the self gets pointed at the self instead?
Soviet propaganda spent 70 years trying to erase the individual soul in favour of the collective machine. I pointed that exact visual language at the thing it was built to suppress.
The first is a forest green bag on coral, the loaf tipped out of it, a dark green disc behind, crumbs scattered on the surface, fine serif in cream.
The second stands upright, a cobalt bag on a cobalt block against yellow, the loaf rising out of the top, window light across the wall, crumbs at the base.