Friday 18 June 2010
While no one's looking
I think I may have to revive this thing. I migrated to the internet-idiot-friendly Tumblr but a late night squiz of this old relic has made me rather nostalgic. By God, I'm inspired afresh with these warm hearted efforts! (Well, maybe excepting all the wallowing over my ex). Actually, just adding the image to this post has reminded me of why I sort of stopped - it's too easy to mess up posts, with text getting consumed by formatting in the wrong order...maybe I'll stick to the writing on this platform.
TUMBLRZ !!!!!
http://nomadvomit.tumblr.com/ (skool work)
&
http://visualgreed.tumblr.com/ (random fancies)
Sunday 17 January 2010
New Year
I really hope this year is a good one. Last year was rich but simply flew off the handle in the end.
What's changed in a year? Who am I at 23?
I no longer smoke & now enjoy exercise to the point of passion. Despite this, I'm still a hipster, apparently. My hair is red and short and my makeup bold, despite what boys tell me they like. I've realised how important family is and understand a few more of my hangups, (they dissolve after that, right?) I no longer draw, which is sort of sad, but have growing confidence in my writing, despite not knowing what to say most of the time. I finally read novels.
To avoid ingratitude, 2009 positives that should be noted before moving forward:
This year will be better beucase it can be.
What's changed in a year? Who am I at 23?
I no longer smoke & now enjoy exercise to the point of passion. Despite this, I'm still a hipster, apparently. My hair is red and short and my makeup bold, despite what boys tell me they like. I've realised how important family is and understand a few more of my hangups, (they dissolve after that, right?) I no longer draw, which is sort of sad, but have growing confidence in my writing, despite not knowing what to say most of the time. I finally read novels.
To avoid ingratitude, 2009 positives that should be noted before moving forward:
- Made and was part of an staggeringly diverse range of films.
- Ate some of the best food since Italy.
- Saw some pretty amazing gigs & went behind the scenes at the MIFF.
- Fell in love and was loved back, for a time.
- Saw free movies and ate free food because of friendship.
This year will be better beucase it can be.
Saturday 28 November 2009
smash list
1. James Spader, before the middle aged Boston Legal spread, and maybe afterwards, providing its over the phone.
2. Vincent D'Onofrio, again, before the spread and away from the roles where he fucks with his face, i.e. Men in Black, The Cell, Full Metal Jacket etc .
3. Robert. Always.
4. Richey Edwards. First pin up of my adolescence and though his anorexic self loathing is a bit off putting now, I'm still hard pressed to find anyone who looks better in eyeliner.
5. Micheal Fassbender. Wot a man. Makes creepy step dads sexy in Fish Tank & was the best thing about Inglorious Basterds, (well, after the Nazi dude).
6. Sebastian Koch. Burly & gentle all at once.
7. Matt Dillon. There are few jaws like that anymore.
Monday 16 November 2009
P.S
I am returning home to England for a few months armed with a nice new camera.(I paid considerably more for it than that & now realise I got ripped off.)
Sorry my blogging has been so dreary of late, all you anonymous readers out there, all 4 of you!
It's about to improve. Time to get inspired again. Huzzah!
Tuesday 3 November 2009
Old is new
I found this rotting on my old live journal. It was posted just over a year ago and it's pretty pertinent for me that's nothing's changed!
There is some persistant feeling inside me so familiar that it is barely an anxiety anymore. It stems from rich, packed expereinces of a person's company neutured to a sterile exchange of typed words; where the humour arrises from the use of ironic smilies, while each person hopes the other is smiling as their exchnage is fed into the machine.
It's revealing I suppose. There are some people for whom words remain just that - sign posts, news bulletins and stats. Then there are others leave you hankering for flesh and blood details and emotions however coincidental. You hope to be close to them not only in what they claim to have done but also in the very moment they sit & type to you. You want to watch their face as they do it because it's the face you miss. The play of the eyes as you watch a brain at work. Micro-expressions of that vivid life within. Maybe it's the reassurance of a soul you recognise.
All the same, you work with what you have and throw tit bits to the grape vine, remembering that you have obligations.
Some people feel that same psychic pull to you even if you never feel it yourself. What you tell them is never enough. What you tell them will never be enough. They just hope to be included in your life becuase they value what they can learn from it.
Knowing I will never see these people again is frightening. It's the persistent knowledge that with each new day these distant fires slowly die.
I pass hundreds of people in a day, never to see them again. I barely remember a single face. There are too many people to know in a lifetime so the few that risk it to know you & your history are worth your time. They are worth all the time in the world.
So to think your time with such people is through while the earth still has some to spare feels like a crime. Estrangement is the greatest theft. But it makes me wonder - if we had the time, if we had all time, what would we end up doing with it? Wouldn't we just take everyone for granted? Maybe then our sentence to know most people for a breath of time what makes our relationships function.
It's hard to stomach neat conclusions & imagine closure while that feeling remains of a melancholic sickening. Your soul needs the sort of nourishment the explanations offered cannot supply. I can't help thinking that it's when you are in dialogue with something you are alive. When you are left alone, some part of you dies.
It's revealing I suppose. There are some people for whom words remain just that - sign posts, news bulletins and stats. Then there are others leave you hankering for flesh and blood details and emotions however coincidental. You hope to be close to them not only in what they claim to have done but also in the very moment they sit & type to you. You want to watch their face as they do it because it's the face you miss. The play of the eyes as you watch a brain at work. Micro-expressions of that vivid life within. Maybe it's the reassurance of a soul you recognise.
All the same, you work with what you have and throw tit bits to the grape vine, remembering that you have obligations.
Some people feel that same psychic pull to you even if you never feel it yourself. What you tell them is never enough. What you tell them will never be enough. They just hope to be included in your life becuase they value what they can learn from it.
Knowing I will never see these people again is frightening. It's the persistent knowledge that with each new day these distant fires slowly die.
I pass hundreds of people in a day, never to see them again. I barely remember a single face. There are too many people to know in a lifetime so the few that risk it to know you & your history are worth your time. They are worth all the time in the world.
So to think your time with such people is through while the earth still has some to spare feels like a crime. Estrangement is the greatest theft. But it makes me wonder - if we had the time, if we had all time, what would we end up doing with it? Wouldn't we just take everyone for granted? Maybe then our sentence to know most people for a breath of time what makes our relationships function.
It's hard to stomach neat conclusions & imagine closure while that feeling remains of a melancholic sickening. Your soul needs the sort of nourishment the explanations offered cannot supply. I can't help thinking that it's when you are in dialogue with something you are alive. When you are left alone, some part of you dies.
x
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