…be dissolute, be despotic, be an anarchist, be a suffragette, be anything you like, but for pity’s sake be it to the top of your bent… Let’s live, you and I, as none have ever lived before.” ~ Violet Trefusis to her lover Vita Sackville-West (who never did leave her husband) (early 20th century), quoted in Janet E. Hardy’s book, ‘GirlFag’.
Friend, “Artists are antennas for the future, that’s why they have to be so sensitive. You’re just a well lubricated antennae” – a very comforting, although perhaps ‘egotistical’ thought, I can work with that, this really helps my soul!
Over the past couple of days I’ve been going through all of my photographs, putting together some options for an upcoming school project to make a ‘graphic novel/visual narrative/book’. I don’t want to give too much away/it’s still in the planning/research stages so will likely evolve considerably throughout it’s creation, but I’m working with the themes of skin, specifically my own skin and psoriasis (which is a chronic auto immune disease that causes my skin cells to multiply too quickly, and covers over 70% of my body in scab like, red circular patterns), as well as imagery & ideas I relate or attach to it. Like:
flowers, dust, crystals, blood, the nervous system, cells, wounds, scar tissue, the female body as public space, toxins, stars, solar systems, leopard print, patterns (in design and metaphorically), paint, fungus, fish, lace, chalk, femininity, fragility, (re-defining) beauty, ect.
Mostly I’ve been scanning, cropping and editing for hours while drinking cocktails and feeling strangely inspired by just tinting a bunch of forgotten photo’s pink. ‘skin hues’.
Right now I’m almost as far back as exactly a year ago and I just love the way this one from my road trip across the USA last April, taken at the Grand Canyon, turned out.
(I liked it so much it’s also my new header photo!)
Also, last night I was hanging out with a dear old friend, Mattew Donnelly, who I’ve known for… maybe since I was a pre-teen? We couldn’t remember when we met exactly but it was definitely pre-2005 (the year I turned 14), he later made my high school grad dress! (which was also the same year he graduated from his BFA) He’s a fashion designer and now living in NYC, we were having a blast at his studio till super late, as in almost 5am (this is where I was photo editing with the help of cocktails, and cupcakes, and Cher remixes).
Afterwards we took a cab, my first NYC cab even! The text on the photo is from one of the many lovely things our cab driver said. Another favorite, which he said a few minutes after this initial beautiful phrase, was,
“New York City, always 24 hours. Someone is always getting up to go to work. Someone is always going to bed.”
To which I responded, “It’s always the beginning of the world.” And we laughed.
I hope she means figuratively and literally? ….emotionally and physically? …romantically and professionally? AW I miss my sister, she’s the loveliest. And I’m not even just saying that because I’m honey-mooning on her sarcastic sideways compliment, but seriously, so funny. and cute and all around THE BEST! HI Jamie! seeyou in 3 weeks or on Skype ❤
kissing older boys in cold cars.
the pigeons are falling and the sky closely follows.
these unfinished stories.
anniversary of awkward.
season of spilling.
get me more wine.
holidays are for encounters.
our breath in all the hair.
butter, coffee, chocolate, sugar, salt.
how it tastes to be twenty.
“she knows lost.”
wine and laundry.
the summer of lost boys.
spin gold from this.
“please wait in line and take a number.”
riding the train of circumstance.
“who is that creature?”
the way his glasses match his underwear.
teach me your ways of disconnect.
radiance derived from absence.
daily grind erodding heart.
I have been known to love you.
kissing, biting, breathing, humping.
“I heard you giggling in the morning.”
knowing exactly where my fingers go.
almost, almost everytime.
like children playing house.
this is called flirting.
film to finger, four eyes to mine.
blood wine drank.
The shape of his face.
all forbidden all the time.
why be jealous boy.
intellectuals just give better head.
feeling like a deep breath, so full.
this home swaying.
painting ceilings gold.
noticing the patterns of mornings.
antique mall mondays.
Slow and small and soft.
the sounds that adults make.
Lip biting. Neck biting. Hair biting.
first kisses only after fondles.
adolescent pile up.
the habit of anticipation.
cascading in consequence.
conversations smart like sparks but needing foundations.
soon lost in imagery.
“you look like a painting” she said. colorful and coloring.
I don’t know how to dress.
dreamt of silicone statues and tafeta.
dreaming of handfulls filled with skin.
“Madeleine, do you wear red lipstick when you walk down the street?”
“Madeleine, I’m trying to learn patience, and you’re really helping me with that.”
“Madeleine, certain colors are separating themselves from other colors and that’s all I know.”
“Madeleine, there wont be any fish left to eat in ten years, d’you really think my beer can will make a difference?”
“Madeline, you have so many feelings.”
“Madeleine, did you graffiti tag the mens outhouse?”
(apparently everyone knows I’d be the one to write quotes from Lolita with a fuschia sharpie)
“Madeleine, lets take the disco light inside the spaceship, if we dance we’ll sound like a chip bag.”
“Madeleine, you’re my new best friend, I knew it was official when we both said that we’re sporadically poly.”
“Madeleine, I don’t feel beautiful anymore.”
“Madeleine, do you want to learn about why the Galaxy is expanding or just continue doing your girl power super moon dance?”
“The number of times, that Madeleine has expressed maturity and knowing what she wants, has been, pretty much all the time since I met her.”
mead in coffee mugs while watching rabbits flirt at midnight.
“you look older than twenty, take that however you like.”
character study of Barbie practiced in studio and at the pub(on dancefloor).
the best performance I’ve seen in ages, Shane Koyczan at the Artesian.
collecting souvenirs of maps and of songs missed.
boys who do the best Adele telling us we made his night.
moonlight matching skin tones kissing beneath telephone poles.
pretending bikes are horses, galloping towards coffee and eggs through sunlight.
complimentary chocolate covered chemically grown strawberries.
getting paid for my pen on paper.
seeing “My Weekend with Marilyn” loving Monroe mostly only.
costumes looking natural and wine like fountains.
friends at my door, waking me for church (brunch).
feminist theory on the highway.
dinner party conversation booming and rippling while I eat everything.