Lizzie Mcguire is the babest babe

Dear Shakespeare,
I have exams for school in a few days. Big scary exams which go on report cards and cause me such stress. Except I'm not actually stressing, I'm worryingly apathetic. I hope it changes soon because caring about nothing much doesn't really feel nice. I want to feel obsessed, I want to build shrines to ideas and people and things, but I can't because it feels all wrong, it feels flawed and blind.

Tavi's  awesome shrine

I've been seeing a lot of 90's reminiscing online recently, sometimes it can feel like the 90's was the coolest time to have been alive, and yes I was  around  for the last two or so years but I don't really remember any of it. I can only really appreciate the decade now that I'm older through watching movies like clueless and 10 things I hate about you and listening to bands like Nirvana. But I do remember the 2000's, they were a weird time, it was like the 90's younger sister, the fashion was similar, the toys and games were similar and t.v shows were similar but the 2000's had something that the 90's can never ever ever claim... LIZZIE MCGUIRE.

Yeah that's right Lizzie is from 2001 (sassily snaps fingers in a 'z' formation) Lizzie was probably one of my best friends as a kid, actually she was the older sister I always wanted. Actually dang it I wanted to be Lizzie. Yes she may not have been as cool as Kate but Lizzie was a real teen and all I wanted when I was a kid was to be a part of the teenzz club. I figure the show gave me a really skewed perception of what adolescence would be like in a way that only Disney channel shows can. I am now a teen and I do not have a Gordo and Miranda, where is my Ethan? Why are my clothes not as cool as Lizzie's? Most importantly where is my snarky little cartoon alter ego? Obviously I have failed at being a teenager. No, but seriously Lizzie McGuire understands me far more than my peers and this is obviously due to the spiritual bond we share from the countless years of me watching episode after episode of her navigating through all her teenage troubles. Also Lizzie's fashion is ace, I could go on and on about the awesomeness of her clothes but let's just look at some pictures and feel all nostalgic:

Lizzie feelz me

aren't they the coolest gal pals?

Truly Mary,

Ps. We were totes listening to this in 2000 cos Destiny's child is the coolest

Talking to the lovely artist Saffa over a virtual glass of iced tea

Dear Shakespeare,

So I suppose I could begin this letter by whining about the urghness of school or apologizing for my lengthy letter writing absence (does that even make sense) but I have something so much cooler to talk about... my interview with the fabaroonie artist Saffa Khan. Which is why I included iced tea in the title, because where I live a good discussion is usually marked by some sort of yummy food and drink and even though I can't talk to her over some afternoon tea I can pretend to do so in a virtual sense (am I just rambling?). Anyways I remember first seeing Saffa's illustrations on the The Le Sigh and marveling at their wonderblime-ness, so being able to ask her some questions about her art and stuffz has been really awesome and I'm sure her interesting answers make up for my sadly generic questions (all pictures are her art):

If you could be anyone ever, either fictional or real who would you be? 

1) Hmm, that's a rather hard question, because there are so many different people (real life & fictional) that i admire so much! But, If I could be one person, I would most certainly be Morticia Addams. Unconditional loving husband, mature, but slightly violent children & overall a dysfunctional, but ridiculously loving family, what more could I ask for?
Do you collect things?
2) Oh I'm a hoarder, I collect an awful lot of things, from train tickets, buttons and miniature books, to lost items in playgrounds, photographs and dead insects (mostly butterflies and moths). I also collect records and books.
If you had to eat one food for/listen to one song/watch one film for an entire week what would it be? 
3) I could easily eat just noodles for a long period of time, as sad at as it sounds, noodles make me very happy. That one song would be You by Keaton Henson. Hmm, one film? I like so many films, & I simply cannot pick just one, which is why I'm going to have to cheat (sorry) and pick two: The Secret Garden (1993) & Amélie.

Fast six: summer or winter? Strawberry milk or chocolate milk? Jellies or doc martens? Chocolate or candy? Oil pastel or watercolor? Film photography or digital?

4) Winter, definitely, I'm an Autumn/Winter person. Strawberry milk, always! Hmm, as much as I LOVE my jellies, I'm going to have to go with Doc Martens. Chocolate! I'd have to pick watercolours. I do a lot of film photography & I definitely prefer that to digital

Artsy things

What sort of art mediums do you usually focus on in your works?

1) I am in love with brusho inks, which is what I usually use on my drawings and paintings, with a hint of watercolours & often acrylics. It usually depends on what I am painting, I suppose & when I am feeling quite patient, I dabble with oil paints too, so there isn't really a particular medium that I usually focus on, I like to experiment with different materials and see what I end up with.
What inspires you when you are working artistically? 

2) Everything in one way or another inspires me. I know this a rather vague answer, but honestly, I cannot simply name a few things, as everything I see, touch, hear, smell always influence my art. When I'm having an artist block, I get ridiculously frustrated, so I turn to my old friends; books; the lives of fictional characters, galleries & films. I talk to people I wouldn't normally talk to, I visit places I normally wouldn't be able to & sometimes, I just stand, whether it's in a middle of a crowd, in a shopping center, on someone's doorstep or beneath a tree.

Are there any recurring themes or ideas in your art which you explore?
3) Most of my work has been inspired by my favourite fictional characters and other art has been based on personal experiences, daily life changes & struggles.

Were you always interested in art? 
4) Yes, always. I used to draw & paint on everything when I got my first paint pallet at the age of four, unfortunately, my mother was not impressed with me painting on every wall in the house, as I preferred them to a piece of paper. I loved it, everything about it. I am slightly oblivious with a lot of things when it comes to art & there's a lot that still needs to be learnt. After all these years, I can truly say that art has kept me sane.  
Do you have a piece/series of your art which you are most proud of?
5) Not really, no. As an artist, I want to do as much as I can & regardless of how much I do, it's never good enough, for me anyway & it's not because I like being harsh on myself, it's because it pushes me to do even more & helps me step out of my comfort zone. There are pieces of photography that I have done, which I have liked, but that is all. Perhaps when I create something that I'm truly proud of & 100% happy with, I shall let you know then.

Do you pre-plan your art a lot or is it based mostly on impulses?
6)I don't often plan my work, no. I'm one of those people who like capturing what they see & wishing they had cameras for eyes. I experiment a lot & that is how I like it anyway, there is no fun in planning & preparing a piece, but there is fun in finding something unexpected & extraordinary as you go a long the way of creating something completely out of the blue.
I love this playlist you made HEAPS and the art at the top just made me go woahhh and I was wondering how you made it, I mean materials and techniques wise
7) Aww, I'm really happy that you liked it, it features some of my favourite songs! I did a bit of collaging for its art, where I used a small old map (which almost resembles a brain) so I thought it would hit perfectly well with the theme of utopia & being a part of the perfect imagined world. For the figure, I simply used a felt tip pen & then layered the entire collage onto the photo, which inverted its colours, making it look quite dreamy, but slightly melancholic

 This is the collage I'm talking about

She is the coolest cat and such a lovely and nice and beautiful person and such a talented babe. This is only some of her super wonderblime, fabaroonie, beautiful, amazing, afhbwlfb art and y'all should check out her tumblr and be amazed by her stuff

Truly Mary,

P.s The song for this letter is Beach Rats by the growlers, I got really anxious in an English SAC a few days ago and didn't write anything cos my hands were shaking and I may have failed but afterwards I listened to this song and I just felt so calm and relaxed (sorry if this sounds stupid or something)

I really wish I had amazing technicolor hair

Dear Shakespeare,

Urghhh I don't know how to start this letter to you, beginnings are always the hardest thing. Sometimes I  try to personify school, when I write angsty poems on the train at the end of term, but if I actually think really hard about the sort of person school would be I'm not all that sure. Maybe a family friend, the nice yet notoriously gossipy type you see all the time and don't have much in common with but still don't mind. I don't know, I mean sometimes I genuinely enjoy school and learning but it can also feel overwhelming and anxiety inducing. All the superficial socialising and the false fronts really wear me down and disgust me after  a while but I guess I'm part of it too, and perhaps that makes it worse. But I don't hate school, despite my melodramatic declarations otherwise, it just seems like a soupy experience, all the good and bad things mushed together like undercooked carrots and noodles. Anyways what am I even saying? And why am I comparing my school experiences to raw carrots? Hmm at any rate what I really wanted to talk to you about was HAIR.  I spent most of my classes today having in depth discussions with friends over dying hair, toner, hair inspiration, bleach etc. All I really want is to have fantastic aqua/teal/purple/pine green/any awesome colour hair so in honour of my desperation I have attached several photos of hair I deeply admire.

 Oh also just sayin all images are sourced from tumblr. I couldn't track the original sources of the images because I saved them onto my laptop ages ago into a folder titled "Hairrrrrrr"  but if anyone sees a photo of theirs which I have used and would like me to acknowledge them/take it down just let moi know.

 

  

    

                                  

yeye for Enid Coleslaw 

 Truly Mary, 

Ps. I'm going to see art by Kate Price this weekend! Yayyyy

Pps. I really need to go op/thrift shopping. It has reached  a level of  physical longing-y type pain, I haven't been in weeks and I really just need to go and buy some lacy granny shirts and plaid miniskirts and urghhh I just wanna get pretty and cheap clothes 

my hair Idol, Grimes, is the fabbest singer...

     

Urghhhh

Dear Shakespeare,
A few days ago I was called a “sarcastic bitch” for voicing my views on feminism. On a pro feminist rant. The guy who called me this ironically wrote the rant, and continued on with a tirade of insults where he told me to “go the fuck away”. You know what the sickest part is? Instead of snapping my fingers in a ‘z’ formation and giving him some Beyoncé style sass as to why it is NOT ok to refer to me as a bitch I started to get anxious. When I get anxious my stomach starts to hurt, I cry and cliché as it sounds I feel as fragile as thin poorly made glass. Do you know why I felt anxious? Because I worried that maybe he was right, maybe I was too sarcastic or maybe I had said everything wrong in an inarticulate mess and it actually could have been seen as offensive. You might feel disgusted at me now. How pathetic/submissive/urghh is she? In retrospect I realise how a sad and dangerous those thoughts were. Mostly because they represent a larger problem I see in myself…  

[Cue angsty, feelings-y paragraph where I talk about emotions, eww]

The problem I am referring to is that my emotions seem to be greatly affected by the reactions and comments of those around me.  How problematic is this?  It means that how I feel is left to the mercy of those judging me. And people can be mean. Where is my ownership over myself? My opinions on me should matter the most because I am the one who lives with myself every day, who drags my tired body out of bed when it’s still dark outside to get ready for another day at school. Other people will forget me over time but I can’t forget myself. I don’t know why I care so much about what people say or think about me, it’s terrible and leaves my self-confidence scarily low. Is everyone like this?   Sometimes people tell me to “stop caring” as if it’s the easiest thing in the world and the only reason why I haven’t done so is due to reluctance. When someone says that it fucking annoys me.  If adopting a “don’t give a damn” attitude was as easy as dressing like Bender in the Breakfast Club I would have already done so, down to his little gold hoop earring.  

[end feelings-y paragraph]

I have more to say but I’ve confused myself, I just needed a mini rant on this topic, maybe soon I’ll write a proper and structured letter to you detailing my worries on the external dependency of my emotions. Until then, URGHHH

Truly Mary, 

  Ps. I am in HAIR HELL at the moment, a hairdresser cut me a front fringe without me asking and then charged me extra! My hair is super curly so it never stays proper and it makes me cry because I love fringes but it looks absolutely terrible on me :(

Pps. I was going to make the song for this letter No intention by Dirty Projectors but I think we need some Beyonce girl love

I can't think of a title so let's pretend I just wrote something witty

Dear Shakespeare,

I'm on the hunt for the perfect tutu, it ought to make me feel like a fairy princess and extend to my ankles in a series of  multi-coloured pastel tulle  layers. Sadly I have no clue where to buy one, currently it only exists in my dreams where I am dressed like the human embodiment of a sprinkly pink donut, I've tried scouring the children's section of opshops, etsy, ebay urghhh all to no avail! Do you know where I could get one Shakespeare?

I start school tomorrow and I don't want to go back, last term was exhausting and stressful and I know every school term could be described by any of those words but the last one was just urghhh! I felt tired every day, could barely handle all the socialising and work and I just felt so overwhelmed and sad and terribly angsty. It felt like something out of a cliché American girly teen movie and I hated that because I guess I thought it made me superficial and shallow and a stereotype.

The holidays were both long and short, I guess they feel short now that they're almost over. I had this massive list of things I wanted to do over the break and I tried but I feel that most of my time was spent in daggy yet comfortable pyjamas on the internet watching The Royal Tenenbaums  or blasting Come on Eileen whilst jumping around in a series of mad movements I call dancing.  I suppose my list was idealistic but I'll leave it up to you to decide… anyhow here it is:

·         Work on zine with the lovely Tessa

·         Pretend to be a princess living in a candy pastel world

·         Go opshopping

·         Buy kitschy room deco

·         Make a theme journal and a journal of interesting information

·         Make a marshmallow and ice cream soup

·         Take a dressmaking class

·         Shoot some photo-sets

·         Read lotssss

·         Spend time people/life watching

·         Write poetry

·         Read philosophy concerned with existentialism

·         Go see art by Kate Price

I planned it all out and it gave me the illusion of structure but it didn't really work out all that neatly; I shot a mini photo set with a friend which I'm waiting to get developed, went op-shopping  and realised I have terrible grandma-y taste in clothes but absolutely love it and I did some of the other things in small ways. However I didn't finish my small heap of holiday homework meaning I am doomed (said in a ghost voice and pronounced doooooooomed), instead I lazed around and I tried using photoshop for the first time to create a collage

 

This is how it turned out, what do you think? It's Tim Burton imagining different landscapes and just to clarify they are totally moths and not butterflies coming out of his head. I have lots more to talk about with you photo set ideas, zine ideas, style influences, interesting word lists urghh but I have an 1,000 word essay due tomorrow which I haven't finished and I'm over writing because all my paragraphs are 350 words when they should be 250 but it's all just utter bullshit 

Truly Mary, 

P.s the song for this letter is my holiday song and a song I sincerely believe they should have played at my school formal to make everything perfect and amazing. I love it soo much!

Growing old is scary

Dear Shakespeare,

I'm turning a great big glittering 16 in two weeks; the orange pop  fizzing longing I once felt for my birthday when I was younger seems to have disappeared.  It's like Christmas once I learned that Santa didn't really live in the north pole with a magical factory and was actually my parents tiptoeing 'round the house once I had gone to sleep. Though the logical part of me understands this I desperately cling to the idea of never growing old, I still try to fool myself into believing in Santa and his reindeer, juvenile as it sounds. The idea of growing up frightens me because I feel like once I get older I will lose the ability to dream and imagine  and desperately want rainbow hair. I'll become dull and dry as a piece of plain wholemeal toast.  I worry that as I get older the strength of my feelings will wane, that once I become a proper adult everything will be a muted palette of pastel emotions. For some reason I've always thought this way, as a child I dreaded the thought of becoming a teenager, of getting closer to adulthood. When I watched the film Peter Pan for the first time when I was five I sobbed inconsolably  at the end. Because Peter had never chosen to  save me and take to Neverland and become his best friend and partner in mischief. Instead he'd taken  an unthankful Wendy  and she left him, she left it all to grow up into a "lady" until she could no longer remember Neverland. It makes me really sad, even now, to think that as she got older she forgot. I'm being forced to grow up, in both a physical and emotional sense, I'm no longer a child yet neither an adult. Everyone around me is getting older,  playing dressups as they navigate through adult thoughts and troubles, and I can either stay behind all on my own or go along and see what happens. 

I saw this shirt online a while back, I think it really addresses my current emotional state.  It was designed by Jeremy Scott. If you find yourself bored and floating through the multiple dimensions of the internet which surely exist, check his stuff out

In  entirely unrelated matters I'd like to show you some of my recent attempts at watercolors and other things...

Sorry for the terrible Iphone quality of the pictures, they are inspired by different things which I may expand on at a later date when I'm not wheezing over my keyboard due to an awful cold. Alas,what do You think Shakespeare? Utterly terrible, probably. How are you? I tend to babble about myself in a narcissistic fashion quite a lot. I haven't forgotten about you though

Truly Mary, 

P.s I was thinking of doing a photoset with a friend that describes my feelings about turning 16. I'll show you soon and explain it all. Or maybe I'l send you a list of different photo-set ideas I've had

P.p.s Discovery is the lovechild of Vampire Weekend and Ra Ra Riot and I love it a lot! This is one of their songs

Nonsense thoughts

Dear Shakespeare,

I feel as if I will never have the exact words to describe the way in which I felt, or the depth of my experiences a few Friday's ago. I went to see Tavi Gevinson give a talk.  I don't mean it in a fangirl consumed by obsession sort of way (maybe a little bit). Mostly it was one of the rare moments in my life where I felt entirely within the present moment, for the first time I was able to understand what all the weird spiritual guru's  were trying to say. My mom plays their cd's in the car almost every day, sometimes to achieve a "soothing effect" chirping dolphin noises accompany their dulcet tones. I was always cynical of what they said, how they preached the present moment in a cult-like manner. But I think I understand now, I just wonder whether they do.

I dressed like my sister  when she plays "grownups" with my clothes; a mess of  plastic glitz, donut socks and a large brown coat from thirty years ago. Trailing through the city streets before Tavi's talk I could tell my ridiculous attire made passers-by uncomfortable, I was weird, odd, dressed like a loon. But cliché as it sounds I  didn't give a damn, I felt amazing, like a fucking princess in my pipe cleaner crown. 

Her talk felt so honest, so real and full of brilliance. I still haven't quite finished processing and interpreting what she said. I feel like I could give you a recount of each thing she spoke about, but Shakespeare  I won't.  There are videos of it online, I would somehow manage to dry out and dull her words. She made me feel an overwhelming urge to try though, to try whatever without crippling expectations. I suffer from the fear, sometimes it gets so bad that I don't do anything at all, just give up and sleep or sometimes cry. I feel as if it's unwarranted though. I don’t have a specific reason to be sad, it makes me feel self absorbed and bratty. Do you understand?

She talked about her obsessive journaling, how each time she began a new journal she adopted a new aesthetic, a new handwriting, way of dressing, a new way of living. She said it was to make the nostalgia extra good. It got me thinking, on my fixation with nostalgia and the past, how reality changes in my head so that the past seems so much better than the present could ever offer me. Wouldn't it be interesting to make a sculpture representing the actuality of an event, all smooth and straight lines, and  then contrast it with another sculpture representing the  warped way in which I interpret the event once it has passed, colored by nostalgia and longing.

I hardly know what I am saying any more, I apologize if this all comes out as an obscure, sloppy attempt at a letter. Recently I've noticed that I use the word "attempt" quite frequently. Not because I lack a vocabulary larger than the word, but because whenever I do something I feel an excessive need to apologize. I paint  a watercolour. I say I attempted a watercolour, I attempted a poem. I  provide a plethora of excuses  as to why it looks  or sounds terrible. I'm so scared of actually trying and then failing. I'm scared of recognizing the boundaries of my actual abilities and finding out that they don't extend all that far, that I am helplessly plain, the generic brand at the supermarket. 

Truly Mary,

P.s Sorry for the angsty, feeling-sy letter

P.p.s please listen to this song