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What you want is a sharp, sweet slap to the face

What you want is something hard

Quickly inhaled breath

Short sharp shock to make the lights

Wink and blur, your

Rapidly marbling, watercolour-bled world

And yourself

Dizzy

And one dizzy moment unravelling your clothes

And one giddy moment that felt

Like love.

 

And plummeting to a sweet dark Earth.

Then

How many minutes

(Hours days weeks months)

Of absence?

Of deafness, dumbness,

Blindness?

(Eight months AWOL).

 

Then

Thrashing from another sightless

Sleep-stolen night’s sssssweating it out with the

Gluttoness ghosts

One flailing elbow struck against

Unidentified object

In my unwitting orbit

Struck lucky, formed the

Switch to a circuit,

And light

Thrummed

Against my eyelids

Stung soothingly, prised me open

To clap eyes on your eyes, the

Very pigment of an old master’s sky,

The colour of possibilities.

“Wow” you said.

Wow.


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Love is falling asleep in a cream wool jumper you adore despite the wine stains, with the sunlight blessing your face wherever it finds it through a grease streaked window. And when you awake, even roadkill on the motorway looks beautiful.


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Dear People of Livejournal,


i am terribly sorry for neglecting you (and this journal) for so long, something i'm going to try and rectify now.


So i have some writing and drawing in the works but they are a long time coming. Instead i shall regale you with stories and pictures of what i got up to today.


Today is Ash Wednesday. i go to a Catholic School- this means Mass first thing in the morning. However! i am not a practising Catholic (or Christian for that matter) and verily, i had better things to do. These better things amounted to taking some shots for my Digital Photography Class, for a teacher who thinks in cliches (he asked us to take portraits composed against graffiti... so very original).


So my model and i hid out in the toilets, feeling somewhat like fugitives, until everyone had left. We then ran through the hospital grounds next door to our school, and hopped on a bus to the train station, ducking and giggling manically as we drove past the school building. We only really felt safe when we got on the train!


Our destination was Southbank, skateboarding and culture capital of London. However, as it was graffiti we were after, it was the former we were interested in. We set up the first shot, i went to take it... and the camera read "card not initialized". We then spent forty minutes attempting to find an internet cafe near Waterloo Station, plugging and unplugging the camera, reading up on how to re-format the card... truly epic. But we finally went back to the skate park and got our shots, only threatened by flying skateboards, the stench of piss, and the feeling that we somehow weren't quite meant to be there...


Here are my three favourite shots:


Do you like cliches? )
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Home of bad flash photography!



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This is the slightly odd way in which i'm storing the heads and bodies as they dry; i think it looks like a seriously bad wannabe-surrealist instillation. It's taken a while to get the finished product the right shape; the first looked suspiciously like a giant peanut. The next few days is going to consist of putting these babies together, a little something like this slightly battered prototype:


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...and then i can finally make a start with painting and designs. i am ridiculously over-excited considering all i am doing right now is covering balloons with newspaper.


Various things which have kept my simple mind content/ which i am thankful for recently )
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i don't know if this is more an exorcism or an exercise of old demons but it seemed entirely necessary at the time )


On an entirely different note, here are some photographs Katrina took of me from our session in Epping Forest. Please excuse the fluff from scanning (see my first post, with the polaroids, for mine):

i really think i should employ her to do this full-time )
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Literally anything, and i'll give it a listen.
Artists/bands no-one's ever heard of would be much appreciated. :)



WARNING: if it's peace and quiet you're after, don't watch this video.





Oh dear, Patrick... i think i have a new crush...
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"You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-You-Are? You're chicken. You got no guts. You're afraid to say, 'ok, life's a fact.' People do fall in love. People do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness. You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing. You're terrified somebody's going to stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bound by Tulip, Texas, or Somaliland. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself."


Petrina Perdu: A (not so little) girl lost and a lost cause. )


P.S. I can't decide whether i like the film of Breakfast At Tiffany's or not. Some scenes are so incredibly schmaltzy and the adaptation is completely unfaithful to the novella, but i do think the last line of that quote at the top of this entry rings very true. What are your thoughts on the book vs. the film?

Current Music:
Moon River
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This is just the very roughest scribble of a something which i need to return to.

You’re a fake and i’m a flake and we’re only air-kiss acquaintances of so little consequence, but still i want your wolf bites down my neck, inky bruises beneath plum skin, and a spring in my step. Inky emblem keepsakes of you on this bathtub white body. Slippery white and as yet unblemished…

I’ve noticed recently that i only ever write about loving, lusting, longing… all those l’s. Is that a bad thing, do you think? Is it better to try and explore each and every thing you possibly can rather than all the little aspects of one specific topic?

Well whether it's good or bad, the main thing is i'm writing again, i even have the littlest seed of an idea for a not-so-short story after reading Breakfast At Tiffany’s so religiously it’s become my Bible (lines from it keep furtively creeping into my head and sticking there and sticking there like animals looking for hibernation.)

Now if only some of these ideas would gel together more substantially….

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“Photography is not a sport. It has no rules. Everything must be dared and tried.” )


It's very frustrating the amount of studies and "imitation of style" type tasks i'm being given by school at the moment. Seems like creativity's getting lost under a pile of copying and repetitive technical work.

But i have to admit, shooting this rip-off artist set was really fun! Bizarrely, my cousin has to be the best model i've ever worked with; she's even prepared to strip off, in windy conditions, in the West Highlands, in October, all in the name of art! That's dedication for you.
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i'm thinking of illustrating certain sections of this story for my personal project in Photography class.

EEL )

At the moment all i've got is vague ideas, for example salt that's fallen from a shaker partially obscuring the line "like tasting salt when you expected sugar." For the photographs of lamp-posts i want a surrealistic, distorted effect that i think could be achieved through the fisheye, maybe using long and multiple exposures. After i get my first roll of film developed i guess i'll have more of a feel of how to use the camera.

i realise this piece is very long, but if you do have a moment to read it and any particular images come into your mind, please let me know, it would really help to kick-start some ideas.

Thanks,
K xxx

* * *
It feels so good to be on the brink of actually doing proper art again. After a totally unproductive summer this compulsory creativity was exactly the kind of kick up the arse i needed!

A ramble )

i really need to put some of my writing on here, rather than this Dear Diary... nonsense. But i wanted to write this entry so that i can look back and be grateful for days like this. i hope you understand what i mean!

IN OTHER NEWS

Our first Art Coursework of this year is titled "Constructed Identities". So i've chosen to make Matryoshkas. (Russian Dolls)

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Dolls will be posted in progress!

Hope you are all having a fantastic end to your week,
K
xxx

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