The end of the world is upon us, according to Apocalyptic Apricot, whose outlook on life has been called bleak, grim, dreary, hopeless and downright cataclysmic. Proceeding from the standpoint that the entire planet is doomed and that if there is any “goodness” left to be had, only dolphins and hippopotamus’ have access to it, and the rest are, to put it bluntly—fucked! So, how does one proceed knowing there is absolutely no future and the world as we know it could end at any moment? With lots of whiskey, an endless supply of pot brownies and fifteen candy bars a day!

Prunus Armeniaca has a real chip on her shoulder, and quite literally, a huge pit in her stomach. In fact, she is mostly made up of pit, or “kernel” as she is called in more supercilious circles, where her body has been used as a remedy for everything from constipation to eye infections as (apparently) the lutein she produces is a natural balm for lens health and inflammation. Truth be told, Apocalyptic Apricot doesn’t care one whit if folks are constipated or suffer reoccurring vaginal ailments, all of which can be treated with apricot oil. As a matter of fact, she resents having to give up her not only her independence, but her very life in the service of human panaceas.

She knows the end of the world is nigh, and because of this knowledge, she wants to live as robustly as possible before the final towel is thrown into the ring. Apricots are not to be underestimated for when they join forces, watch out. You may just wind up buried alive in the garden or worse, chocking to death on that ever ubiquitous and fearsome little stone.

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  Monet.

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  Camille Pissaro.

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  Yayoi Kusama.

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  Vincent Van Gogh.