How are things for you? Being a ghost and all. I'm thinking of reading Hamlet, but for now I'll just struggle through Sartre. Anyways I know two posts in one day is a bit much but this is just a little photo diary:
I found these photos in my room from the beginning of summer, I took them on a disposable. Also I can't wait to get my photos from Ethiopia developed! I think I'll get that done soon
Just photos of two new paintings I did. No pretty prose, or angst fueled confessions, or poetry; just two things. I must say that sometimes I wonder what people think when they look at what I create. At a theoretical level I know that I ought not to wonder or care and that self-validation is really what I should achieve, but there's still this nagging part of my head that wonders if it all just looks like a mass of awkward lines. This sounds cliche as hell but when I paint I paint my thoughts/emotions, it's personal. so I rarely show people what I paint when it's not online. It's too hard to share it, to hear it being judged, it's almost like my thoughts and emotions would then be judged. But sometimes I think an external/different perspective would be interesting. What do you think Shakespeare?
Ps. Kilo Kish has such a fabulous afro, also her music is totally interesting
Truly Mary,
Wednesday, 19 March 2014
Reality isn't a film, or a poem or a song It isn't always cinematic, or romantic, or picturesque Life is sometimes monotonous and grey and moves too slowly and yet too fast. But there are moments, more romantic and real than anything in a film or a poem or a song. Moments we often overlook, forget or dismiss: When laughter becomes a cackle The taste of strawberry ice cream eaten outside in the summer Learning to skateboard at the park with your best friend These moments aren't the same for everyone, There is no universal aesthetically pleasing moment, or one of happiness It cannot be applied to one’s life like an equation in math But these moments are all the same; In isolation they mean nothing Yet the way they make us feel makes reality all the worth living
*This is just a little poem/prose-y thing I wrote yesterday about recent thoughts, idk
Sometimes it’s hard to
see an end to the day in and day out, the waking up at unholy hours of the
morning, grey train rides full of unconcerned people, the constant tiredness,
aching bones, angst, the boredom and the longing. Sometimes it feels like I’m
drowning in the pattern of my life, nothing new happens, what happens tomorrow
is merely a rerun of my yesterday. It’s a feeling of claustrophobia almost;
like I’m stifled and gasping for air. I've always thought that things would get
better as I got older; you know the kinda thing where as you get older you gain
more freedom, responsibility and all that other stuff, you are bound by less
restriction. I don’t know if that’s true anymore, I mean I know it’s true to a
certain extent, in the sort of sense where once you reach eighteen you can go clubbing
and the like. But I don’t mean it like that, I just feel like once I get older
maybe I’ll still wake up at unholy hours of the morning, still take grey train
rides full of unconcerned people, and maybe I’ll grow to like it all. Maybe I’ll
grow used to gasping.
I don’t know what I
want to do after school is over, lots of people I know do. Doctor. Engineer. Lawyer. Psychiatrist. I’m scared that my indecision will fuck me
over, that I’ll end up grey. Everything
I want seems idealistic and related to creative pursuits, and anyways I worry that I’m
not good enough, I just wish that I could want something more “real
life”.
Maybe I’m just feeling
all of this because I wish I was somewhere else, Australia can feel like the
arse end of the world, far away from everywhere
except for New Zealand. I wish I lived in London, I wish I could just go
to a Sub Luna City gig on a Saturday night, or go to Arvida Bystrom’s art
gallery, or see Rejjie Snow live, or take a train to Sweden or Germany to see
my family. I know Australia is incredibly interesting, but it’s so easy to feel
disconnected from the rest of the world, it’s so easy to stay cooped up in suburbia
rather than going out. I guess I’m still feeling passive about life, but now I
feel like to rid that feeling I've got to go far away from here.
More of my paintings 'n' stuff:
this napkin was from a lovely day I had meandering around the city, and invisibly people watching on the lawn of the state library.
I did this painting whilst listening to Loveleen on repeat and it's kinda about it. So I sent a pic of this painting to Rejjie Snow and told him that I paint to his music and then he said (and I quote) "amazing, thank u n I really love ur art" FUCKING REJJIE SNOW REPLIED TO MY MESSAGE, LOOKED AT MY SHITTY PAINTING AND SAID HE LOVED IT. arghhhhhhh he is a total babe
P.s I went to Retrostar's $10 warehouse sale in Brunswick today, it was really fun and I bought a few nice things like:
they were rllyyy comfy couches
Also there was a hello kitty popcorn maker!!!!!
P.p.s I couldn't decide which song to choose for this letter so I've settled on two:
