I feel so up and down right now, and today has been simultaneously pretty good and fucking terrible.
There aren't enough hours in the day to do everything that I feel like I need to, and yet I seem to spend the majority of my time sitting around doing nothing. Or nothing constructive.
I'm just so fucking tired.
Wednesday 30 November 2011
Monday 28 November 2011
Awesome Things
Everything today has been kinda rubbish and negative, so instead of whining about that here are some really cool things:
I saw this tee shirt last weekend when out christmas shopping with my lovely friend Ellen (: It's from urban outfitters and is actually in the men's department, but I am completely in love with it. I wanted to BE Kelly Kapowski when I was growing up.
Christmas present to myself maybe?
While I was in Urban Outfitters I got myself this adorable (if slightly impractical) card holder(: aaaaand this bag from H&M..
The bag strap is this weird silver metal chain thing, but I'm thinking of changing it to something else, maybe a black ribbon?
Retail therapy is definitely the best way to deal with uni stress aha (:
I saw this tee shirt last weekend when out christmas shopping with my lovely friend Ellen (: It's from urban outfitters and is actually in the men's department, but I am completely in love with it. I wanted to BE Kelly Kapowski when I was growing up.
Christmas present to myself maybe?
While I was in Urban Outfitters I got myself this adorable (if slightly impractical) card holder(: aaaaand this bag from H&M..
Retail therapy is definitely the best way to deal with uni stress aha (:
Thursday 10 November 2011
Nostalgia - Baby Scout
(:
Saturday 22 October 2011
Some Good Advice
Thursday 20 October 2011
Saturday 15 October 2011
Friday 14 October 2011
Life Things
Hii Blog,
So I've been pretty busy with life things lately, like moving out for the first time, and starting a degree in Fine Art, and turning twenty. Y'know.. no big deal.
I've been here for over a month now, and I really like it (: I feel at home here. I love being a new place after living within the same 3 square miles for almost my whole life, and I feel happy and at home every time I come back to my room.
This is my desk, as it is right now, with all my photos up on the wall above it (:
It was a little weirder than I thought it would be at first, to be away from home and my family. Everything seemed really draining in the first few weeks, and I was surprised to find myself wanting to visit home after only three weeks.
Even now, its Friday night, and almost everyone I know here has gone home for the weekend, and I'm torn between going too or staying here alone. It's not much trouble, or money, for me to go. I don't really want to spend the weekend alone. But on the other hand, I have work to do here, but mostly I just feel like I shouldn't go home. I don't want to admit to my family, or myself, that I miss home more than I thought I would.
On a happier note, I really love my course. The people who work around me, and on the course in general have been so friendly to me and are really interesting people. Having my own space to work has been amazing too.
Something I'm working on right now with recycled paper.
So yeah, byyee Blog (:
On a happier note, I really love my course. The people who work around me, and on the course in general have been so friendly to me and are really interesting people. Having my own space to work has been amazing too.
Thursday 6 October 2011
From Tumblr
“Your life is not an episode of Skins. Things will never look quite as good as they do in a faded, sun - drenched Polaroid; your days are not an editorial from Lula. Your life is not a Sofia Coppola movie, or a Chuck Palahniuk novel, or a Charles Bukowski poem. Grace Coddington isn’t your creative director. Bon Iver and Joy Division don’t play softly in the background at appropriate moments. Your hysterical teenage diary isn’t a work of art. Your room probably isn’t Selby material. Your life isn’t a Tumblr screencap. Every word that comes out of your mouth will not be beautiful and poignant, infinitely quotable.
Your pain will not be pretty. Crying till you vomit is always shit.
You cannot romanticize hurt.
Or sadness.
Or loneliness.
You will have homework, and hangovers and bad hair days. The train being late won’t lead to any fateful encounters, it will make you late. Sometimes your work will suck. Sometimes you will suck. Far too often, everything will suck - and not in a Wes Anderson kind of way.
And there is no divine consolation - only the knowledge that we will hopefully experience the full spectrum - and that sometimes, just sometimes, life will feel like a Coppola film.”
Sunday 21 August 2011
Positive Pranking
I recently found these two videos while re-watching old Vlogbrothers videos
It reminds me of some of the things Rachel wanted to do for her 'appreciation' project, specifically the tasks in the "Random acts of kindness" book like "Plant a flower in someone's garden", which is the one that I liked most.
This is something that I really want to do, but like John Green I'd be really nervous to actually go right up to peoples doors in case the opened them before I got the chance to run away, and we don't have the same kind of "mailboxes" here for me to TP.
But "planting" the lollies in people's gardens, or even public land is such a cute idea, and easier to do, so maybe I'll try that one.
It reminds me of some of the things Rachel wanted to do for her 'appreciation' project, specifically the tasks in the "Random acts of kindness" book like "Plant a flower in someone's garden", which is the one that I liked most.
This is something that I really want to do, but like John Green I'd be really nervous to actually go right up to peoples doors in case the opened them before I got the chance to run away, and we don't have the same kind of "mailboxes" here for me to TP.
But "planting" the lollies in people's gardens, or even public land is such a cute idea, and easier to do, so maybe I'll try that one.
Sunday 14 August 2011
Kyeok Kim
Soap Rings
Part of Korean artist's Jewellery as Second Skin series. As you wash your hands, the ring slowly disappears leaving your hands smelling like a drop of perfume.
“… a sensory experience [that becomes] an unconscious ornament.”
Part of Korean artist's Jewellery as Second Skin series. As you wash your hands, the ring slowly disappears leaving your hands smelling like a drop of perfume.
“… a sensory experience [that becomes] an unconscious ornament.”
Thursday 30 June 2011
A Haiku About Spoons:
Spoon spoon spoon spoon spoon
Spoon spoon spoon spoon spoon spoon spoon
Spoon spoon spoon spoon spoon.
Spoon spoon spoon spoon spoon spoon spoon
Spoon spoon spoon spoon spoon.
Sunday 19 June 2011
All My Blogs:
My Tumblr - For my excessive image hoarding and inspiration.
My Joint Tumblr between Kieran & I, which we use to show each other cute and funny things, (It's mainly pictures of cats.)
My Poetry Blog - a collection of poems that I like
My Pinterest Boards, Although this is not technecally a blog I feel it belongs here. A collection of assorted ideas and images I like.
My Last.fm which should also be included, and finally
My Flickr, which I mainly use for college.
- Blogs to create in the future:
Things I see on the floor/in the street
My own work - serious art work or just doodles? or both?
Lists - submission?
Photos of Strangers
My Joint Tumblr between Kieran & I, which we use to show each other cute and funny things, (It's mainly pictures of cats.)
My Poetry Blog - a collection of poems that I like
My Pinterest Boards, Although this is not technecally a blog I feel it belongs here. A collection of assorted ideas and images I like.
My Last.fm which should also be included, and finally
My Flickr, which I mainly use for college.
- Blogs to create in the future:
Things I see on the floor/in the street
My own work - serious art work or just doodles? or both?
Lists - submission?
Photos of Strangers
Friday 3 June 2011
How to feel miserable as an artist
(or, what not to do. Underline any that currently apply.)
1. Constantly compare yourself to other artists.
Found here.
1. Constantly compare yourself to other artists.
2. Talk to your family about what you do and expect them to cheer you on.
3. Base the success of your entire career on one project.
4. Stick with what you know.
5. Undervalue your expertise.
6. Let money dictate what you do.
7. Bow to societal pressures.
8. Only do work your family would love.
9. Do whatever the client/customer/gallery owner/patron/investor asks.
10. Set unachievable/overwhelming goals. To be accomplished by tomorrow.
Found here.
Monday 23 May 2011
Wednesday 27 April 2011
David Harsent
Spatchcock
As I entered, she had her pinking shears to the backbone,
having dropped the gizzard into the kitchen bin,
and barely looked over her shoulder to see who it was
when I gave the door a little back-heel
then ferreted round in the fridge for an ice-cold Coors
before slipping up from behind to cop a feel.
Another hot day in September, and that the cause
of her half-baked look, brought on
by lying bare-assed in the garden all afternoon,
a flush coming off her, the veins so close to the skin
I could trace the flow like sap, could tongue-up the ooze
of sweat at the nape of her neck: and this the real
taste of her, like nothing before, like nothing I ever knew.
You have to go hard at it, either side of the spine,
all the time bearing down against the sinew,
then lift the long bone entire and get both hands
into the cut, knuckle to knuckle, and draw
the carcass apart, and press, till you hear the breastbone crack.
Looked at like that it’s roadkill, flat on its back,
sprung ribcage, legs akimbo, red side up, and sends
a message (you might guess) about life lived in the raw.
So then it’s a matter of taste: herb-butter under the slack
of the breast, perhaps, or a tart marinade,
to flatter and blend, spread thinly and rubbed well in.
She favoured the latter—that and a saltire of thin
skewers driven aslant from thigh to neck,
which might, indeed, have said something about her mood.
That done, she stripped off, gathering the oils and the balm
she’d need for however long the thing would take,
and went back to her place in the sun. It did no harm,
I suppose, to watch from an upstairs window: a hawk’s-
eye-view as she lay there timing the turn
(face-up till you tingle, then flip) to brown but not to burn.
The marks of the griddle, the saltire, the subtle flux…
We ate it with lima beans and picked the bones,
after which we took to bed a bottle of bright Sancerre
and I held her down as I’d held her down before,
working her hot-spots with a certain caution and care
as she told me not here…or here…but there…and there.
I left her flat on her back—flat out and shedding a glow,
or so I like to think, as I slipped downstairs
and lifted, from a peg-board beside the hob,
her mother’s (or grandmother’s) longhand note on how
to spatchcock a chicken, or guinea, or quail, or squab,
or sparrow, even, with emphasis on that ‘crack’;
and lifted, as well, before I lifted the latch,
myrtle, borage, dill, marjoram, tarragon, sumac,
all named and tagged, in a customized cardboard box.
As I entered, she had her pinking shears to the backbone,
having dropped the gizzard into the kitchen bin,
and barely looked over her shoulder to see who it was
when I gave the door a little back-heel
then ferreted round in the fridge for an ice-cold Coors
before slipping up from behind to cop a feel.
Another hot day in September, and that the cause
of her half-baked look, brought on
by lying bare-assed in the garden all afternoon,
a flush coming off her, the veins so close to the skin
I could trace the flow like sap, could tongue-up the ooze
of sweat at the nape of her neck: and this the real
taste of her, like nothing before, like nothing I ever knew.
You have to go hard at it, either side of the spine,
all the time bearing down against the sinew,
then lift the long bone entire and get both hands
into the cut, knuckle to knuckle, and draw
the carcass apart, and press, till you hear the breastbone crack.
Looked at like that it’s roadkill, flat on its back,
sprung ribcage, legs akimbo, red side up, and sends
a message (you might guess) about life lived in the raw.
So then it’s a matter of taste: herb-butter under the slack
of the breast, perhaps, or a tart marinade,
to flatter and blend, spread thinly and rubbed well in.
She favoured the latter—that and a saltire of thin
skewers driven aslant from thigh to neck,
which might, indeed, have said something about her mood.
That done, she stripped off, gathering the oils and the balm
she’d need for however long the thing would take,
and went back to her place in the sun. It did no harm,
I suppose, to watch from an upstairs window: a hawk’s-
eye-view as she lay there timing the turn
(face-up till you tingle, then flip) to brown but not to burn.
The marks of the griddle, the saltire, the subtle flux…
We ate it with lima beans and picked the bones,
after which we took to bed a bottle of bright Sancerre
and I held her down as I’d held her down before,
working her hot-spots with a certain caution and care
as she told me not here…or here…but there…and there.
I left her flat on her back—flat out and shedding a glow,
or so I like to think, as I slipped downstairs
and lifted, from a peg-board beside the hob,
her mother’s (or grandmother’s) longhand note on how
to spatchcock a chicken, or guinea, or quail, or squab,
or sparrow, even, with emphasis on that ‘crack’;
and lifted, as well, before I lifted the latch,
myrtle, borage, dill, marjoram, tarragon, sumac,
all named and tagged, in a customized cardboard box.
Friday 15 April 2011
Thursday 14 April 2011
Growth
A little bit of creativity that came from 'getting lots of rest', and also 'not forcing it'. I was researching the work of a local tattoo artist, I've always wanted to get a tattoo on this wrist to symbolise change and growth and beauty, and suddenly got this idea.
I think this also counts for 'writing down ideas', even if it is a drawing.
29 ways to stay creative
Make lists
Carry a notebook everywhere
Try free writing
Get away from the computer
Quit beating yourself up
Take breaks
Sing in the shower
Drink coffee
Listen to new music
Be open
Surround yourself with creative people
Get Feedback
Collaborate
Don't give up
Practice, practice, practice
Allow yourself to make mistakes
Go somewhere new
Count your blessings
Get lots of rest
Take risks
Break the rules
Don't force it
Read a page of the dictionary
Create a framework
Stop trying to be someone else's perfect
Got an idea? Write it down
Clean your workspace
Have fun
Finish something
I've always used my tumblr for creative inspiration, not really specific ideas, but looking at other people's work puts me in a creative mood. But I found this list today so I'm gonna try and do all of these over the next week or so, probably starting with 'get lots of rest' because I'm ill, and document it on this blog. Perfect timing as I'm supposed to be in the middle of my final major project right now, but I've hardly done anything yet :/
Tuesday 22 March 2011
Things I don't like at the moment:
blue biros
the state of my room
college
my hair
most of my clothes
still not being able to drive
yoghurt
Things I like at the moment:
watercolour paints
my red espadrilles
mocha frappuccinos
bean sprouts
Kieran's old green and black stripy jumper
new ELF make-up
the current weather
post its
mini eggs
Wednesday 16 March 2011
Thursday 24 February 2011
Some things I would like to eventually achieve
Take photos of all my clothes so that I can plan outfits without having to get them all out.
Fix my sewing machine (or get a new one) and make more clothes myself.
Make and sell something on Etsy.
Draw more.
Complete my photo wall.
Read '14000 Things to be Happy About', which I just ordered.
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