One Bad Cookie

Me & Giraffe

2006-07-03T12:09:00.000+01:00

I found this photograph recently, from my trip to Kenya. This is was taken at a Rothschild Giraffe sanctuary in the town of Karen. I found it half-forgotten between the pages of a book I was reading (thus the bad quality). I was reminded of what amazing creatures giraffe are. Their tongues are an indigo-blue and their breath smells sweet, in the same way that a horse's breath often smells of hay. This one was actually only a youngster and very, very hungry. He ate about six handfuls of pellets and even let me caress his neck. I think this could easily be one of my favourite moments ever...thus the silly grin on my face :)

My Beloved & I

2006-07-01T00:17:00.000+01:00

Stumbled across this old photograph of my beloved and I when we were still at university together. We've been sweethearts for nearly seven years...lol...time flies.

Paris 2006

2006-07-01T00:02:00.000+01:00

I also liked this melancholy statue of Venus...well I assume it's Venus as she was always depicted holding two doves or an apple. I've posted some more specific photos on my travel blog: beautifulthingsrock.blogspot.com/

Paris 2006

2006-06-30T23:59:00.000+01:00

This was strange since it seems to belong to Thailand rather than Paris...I took a picture but didn't listen very carefully as to why this was in the middle of Paris. I like it though...especially since I leave for Thailand in eleven days.

Paris 2006

2006-06-30T23:56:00.000+01:00

When I was a little girl...I was completely fascinated with mermaids. My mother read me the original story, in which the little mermaid turns to sea-foam in the end and is scattered across the waves, her love unrequited by the prince. So influential was the story that I once made myself a mermaid's tail out of plasic shopping bags and sequins and nearly drowned myself in our swimming pool...needless to say my mum stopped reading me stories to do with mermaids. This merman in the Place de la Concorde was quite interesting I thought. Considering so many beheadings took place in this square during the French Revolution...there's something quite poignant about him.

Paris 2006

2006-06-30T23:42:00.000+01:00

I've selected some interesting photos I took while in Paris to post here. I've only chosen four that are worthwhile or else this will start to look like a travel journal and nothing else.

I Miss You, Brettie

2006-06-30T12:51:00.000+01:00

I write this post a bit sad. It's been only a few months since this darling boy, who was not only a talented actor but much beloved friend, was killed in my hometown of Cape Town. Some young gangsters, high-out-of-their-minds on crack, shot him in what was a random carjacking. I don't feel the same about Cape Town anymore, although it will always be my home. I miss him especially today as I dreamt about him recently. Sigh...I'm going to focus on this picture...which reminds me of happier times. I miss you, Brett and sometimes, just sometimes it feels like you're still here.

From Autumn Journal ~ Louis Macneice

2006-06-29T16:30:00.000+01:00

I love this excerpt from the poem 'From Autumn Journal' as it reminds me of cafe scenes from parts of London, during Autumn. Perhaps it's inappropriate to reflect on this poem in the middle of the English Summer...even as I'm writing this the sunlight is streaming through the window and the bumble-bees are droning lazily, like overweight fairies...but I guess my heart is perpetually in Autumn which, (since coming to Europe) has become my favourite season - where the trees seem to burn with red, orange and yellow as if on fire and then are suddenly naked and sad. It seems to be from a male perspective and the woman described is full of faults...erm...which I guess I find comforting because perfect people disturb me...deeply. She obviously reminds him of the seasons, as she is tempestuous and forever changing and yet he loves her and finds her intriguing *sigh* how Romantic. I've edited it I'm afraid, so get a poetry anthology if you want the whole thing.

September has come, it is hers
Whose vitality leaps in the autumn,
Whose nature prefers
Trees without leaves and a fire in the fire-place;
So I give her this month and the next
Though the whole of my year should be hers who has renderd
already
So many of its days intolerable or perplexed
But so many more so happy;
Who has left a scent on my life and left my walls
Dancing over and over with her shadow,
Whose hair is twined in all my waterfalls
And all of London littered with remembered kisses.
So I am glad
That life contains her with her moods and moments
More shifting and more transient than I had
Yet thought of as being integral to beauty;
Whose mind is like the wind on a sea of wheat,
Whose eyes are candour
and assurance in her feet....
I shall remember you in bed with bright
Eyes or in a cafe stirring coffee
Abstractedly and on your plate the white
Smoking stub your lips had touched with crimson.
And I shall remember how your words could hurt
Because they were so honest
And even your lies were able to assert
Integrity of purpose...

Sister, I'm a Poet

2006-06-28T18:00:00.000+01:00

While the title of this blog is also a line from a Morrissey song (which I love, love, love...a lot) it is also the excuse I give for daydreaming so much. Once again I find myself successfully avoiding my own writing schedule & rather indulging in someone else's...oh the internet is a wicked, wicked thing for girls who love to procrastinate with a capital 'P'. Anyway, I'm reading a collection of poetry by Constantine Cavafy and I came across this poem...which makes me sigh and stare out the window:

I've Looked so Much...

I've looked on beauty so much
that my vision overflows with it.

The body's lines. Red lips. Sensual limbs.
Hair as though stolen from Greek statues,
always lovely, even uncombed,
and falling slightly over pale foreheads.
Figures of love, as my poetry desired them
....in the nights when I was young,
encountered secretly in my nights.

What's ATP All About Then?

2006-06-28T15:46:00.000+01:00

Well, you probably won't find out from my vague allusions on this blog, as I lack focus at the best of times and find it difficult to explain myself...unless I'm working on my writing projects :)
So, for those who I've confused, here's the link to the official site:

http://www.atpfestival.com/index.php

My Demonic Little Pony

2006-06-28T00:26:00.000+01:00

See...unmistakably a little pony. I added the butterflies of course...and stars...and I can't draw...but nevertheless this looks like a pony to me.

All Tomorrows Parties

2006-06-28T00:25:00.000+01:00

Then I saw this cute deer / my-little-pony shape in the sand...that no one else could see apart from me. Everyone thought I was just hungover...which I was...but that wasn't the point. I clearly see a little deer thingie in the sand made by the sea foam...here....let me illustrate with my lame photoshop skills.

All Tomorrows Parties

2006-06-28T00:23:00.000+01:00

I found this rather sad little starfish washed up on the shore...I tried to throw him back but alas, he was fated to meet his untimely end next to this rather lovely shell...and funny-coloured sea-foam.

All Tomorrows Parties, May 2006

2006-06-28T00:20:00.000+01:00

Whenever I go to ATP...despite the awesome bands and midnight madness, I always end up taking more pictures of the scenery. Pontins Camber Sands is a surreal, slightly frightening English sea side resort complete with fake, foam octopus and psuedo pirate paraphernalia and yet for the time that ATP is taking place...the whole place is infused with life and excitement. It is almost always cold, miserable and wet but the bands are fantastic. However, you will find no pictures of the bands I'm afraid on this blog...just my inebriated fascination with the scenery.

Now Hair #2, 2006

2006-06-27T21:15:00.000+01:00

Now Hair 2006

2006-06-27T18:42:00.000+01:00

Now, my hair is chopped and black. I want to grow it long again...but there is nothing quite as sensual as chopping one's hair off after growing it for awhile...anyway, I'll see how long I can hold out.

Old Hairstyle 2005

2006-06-27T18:29:00.000+01:00

This was completely done on impulse. I chopped off my glorious locks and went red...then white and red streaks...but then it started turning purple.

Paris Stencil

2006-06-25T13:18:00.000+01:00

I recently spent some time in Paris - Paris is good for the soul, I think...except that it helps to speak better French than I do. Anyway, Paris reminded me that there is far too much beauty in the world to remain sad and sometimes, just sometimes that beauty is enough to even out all the other fucked up things in the world. Wandering around the city one lazy afternoon, scouting out a restaurant in which to have a chilled-out supper, I found this fabulous book shop, where the books are piled to the ceiling and you can hardly move. Every book I've ever loved, every comic, every graphic novel and interesting design book I could think of was in this shop and the owner appeared to be more of a collector than a seller. I found this interesting stencil just outside the shop and when I get a new bookshelf, I shall be back to that shop the blink of an eye to get more books.

Most Recent Me

2006-06-24T22:56:00.000+01:00

I cut my own hair recently...so this photo probably doesn't do justice to how bad it actually looks but oh well. This is my first post in ages...and it's about my hair...wow...I'm superficial but then this year has been so hard and I've lost three people I loved dearly - all of whom were young and vibrant and should not have been so untimely 'yanked' from the world...so if I focus on my hair, then it is only as a distraction and escape from the complete 'funk' I've been in for the last three months. Grief also makes one regress in some ways. Yes, I'm wiser, harder and all that usual crap and I've spent a lot of time reading those annoying quote books all about grief but I've also found myself longing for childhood and innocence and 'unknowing' (if that makes sense). Found this girl whose style I completely love, a fantasy artist called Johanna Ost http://www.johannaost.com/. She seems just as pony-mad as I am and also likes documenting her ever changing hair. She rocks and reminds me of all the things I loved in my childhood. She also evokes in me a strange nostalgia for the 80's...which I never thought I'd hear myself saying. Oh well...viva la hair!

2006-04-20T19:51:00.000+01:00

Grief

2006-03-29T11:29:00.000+01:00

I haven't written in weeks...maybe even as long as a month or two. I can't write at the moment and am taking a 'breather' as it were. I've lost someone I cared about a great deal in a car accident. 'Lost' sounds like I carelessly misplaced the person...temporarlily forgot where I put them...but it's the only word that describes the feeling.

Drakensberg

2006-02-01T19:59:00.000Z

I took this photograph at an arts and crafts centre up in the Drakensberg mountains. I was born in Pietermaritzburg, not far from this place. It was my first time back to Natal in about eight years. The last time I was up in the Drakensberg I was in highschool. It was beautiful, nostaligic and more mesmerising than I remembered it. The long hikes along the various trails, populated with brightly coloured birds and secret grottos was just delightful. This tree is full of weaver birds. Their fussy nests and relentless chatter formed the background to every afternoon meal.

Dutch Cottage & Roses, Vergelegen

2006-02-01T19:53:00.000Z

Vergelegen

2006-02-01T19:52:00.000Z

Well it's about time I blog these holiday pics, before I forget altogether. This is Vergelegen, in Somerset West. I love the wines on this vineyard - in fact it's difficult to find a crap wine in the Cape. As I'm writing this Cape Town is experiencing some of the hottest, driest days in years. Some silly twit set Table Mountain ablaze by flicking his stupid cigarette near the cable car. My mother said she could see the smoke from Blouberg and that the fires raged for nearly three days! These photographs will remind me how lush and green the Cape looked just after Christmas, before the summer drought set in.

Where Did My Vacation Go?

2006-01-16T16:56:00.000Z

Wow, 2006. Here it is and so far, I have done hardly any writing *sigh*. There goes one of my New Year Resolutions straight down the loo. Oh, well. Maybe I should make resolutions every leap year? Better yet, maybe I should complete a bloody short story every leap year...or at least an essay or something of academic value *sigh*. Stuff it! I'm sure I'll get going when February comes around (takes a quick peek at calendar)....or March.

Well, Christmas came and went like a deadline. I especially liked the *whooshing sound it made. I had time to catch a glimmer of snow, the odd bell here and there, fragments of annoying supermarket carols, stale mulled wine and the pitter-patter of annoying little feet all up and down the aeroplane cabin. Aah, travelling at Christmas time. Despite the whole 'goodwill to mankind' motif - travelling during the festive season is enough to make anyone want to poke a stake of holly through his neighbour's heart - especially if that neighbour is sitting next to him on a long-haul flight to South Africa. I actually felt pleased when the little kid in question had to vomit into the air-sickness bag...just after he tripped and fell over someone's handbag. Somehow, aeroplanes just turn me into a very bad person

Well, Cape Town was amazing this Christmas. I spent time with my family travelling from Cape Town to Durban, then from Durban to the Drakensberg. I have a new digital camera and will be popping new photos on this blog in the next few days...but for now it's back to work...back to writing.

Friends on Beach at All Tomorrows Parties

2005-12-06T06:51:00.000Z

Spent the weekend at a Festival called 'All Tomorrow's Parties'. I'll write about it later, right now I have an awful cold - the result of excess and lack of sleep. This is a photo of some of my friends. Ken found a starfish in the fading light - which is why he's looking so intensely at his hand - the poor thing had lost a leg from the storm, but seemed ok.

Dead Household Plant Syndrome

2005-11-25T16:45:00.000Z

Some time ago, I watched a trashy film about alcoholics. I have a fuzzy memory of Sandra Bollocks...Bullocks...whatever. Anyhow, the only piece of trivia I gleaned from this film was something along the lines of 'don't rock up drunk at your sister's wedding' and 'if you can keep a houshold plant alive for two years, you can then get a pet and if you can keep the pet alive for two years you are ready for a relationship'.

The flaw in this silly mantra was that the relationship part wasn't about keeping someone alive (which would be more like advice for psychopaths) but simply getting someone to stay with you...or well still want you after two years.

For some reason this trivial piece of mindless drivel rooted itself pretty deeply in my subconscious and so I decided to buy some household plants. However, after nearly two years...my household plants are not doing so well. In fact 'not doing so well' is a bit of an understatement. They are in fact wilting, browning and one plant only has one leaf left!

This leaves me in something of a predicament *resists the urge to make a really inane pun* If I manage to bring that one leafed plant back from the brink, does that mean I'm really quite good at relationships? Or would that make me worse? Also, since I have no pets...well...damn that stupid film.

Valentine's Day

2005-11-24T20:45:00.000Z

Valentine's Day is really just a load of crap. However, I made this card for my beloved last year and before I send it to the recycling bin, I thought I'd scan it and post it here (since I treat this blog like a scrapbook and can't be arsed to stick the real thing into the large pile of scrapbooks I've already managed to accumulate). I know there are an excessive number of dodgy images on the card, implying blood loss, rampaging bulls and splattered roses. This was not an attempt to venemously portray my loathing of ficticious excuses to send silly cards, inspired by questionable saints...oh no....it does have some relevance. You see, I planned to take my lover to a production of Bizet's Carmen at the Royal Albert Hall...however...in true 'me style' I fucked everything up and ended up going alone instead. I had a private box to myself and a bottle of wine to boot...so by the end of the performance I was lonely and singing along to Toreador-
la-la-la-la (since the only word I knew in the song was Toreador *blushes in shame*). Mmm *tries to remember why she posted this stupid card anyway*. Well, my lover forgave me for being a complete twat and is still with me... so I guess the card has a happy memory after all.

Another Beautiful Image From Ascend

2005-11-22T21:25:00.000Z

I hope they make this comic into a film or a video game. The images are so vivid and striking. A preview is available on Image Comics.

Haircut

2005-11-22T19:22:00.000Z

Last photograph of my short hair. I'm making a promise to myself that I'll let my hair grow...no matter how much I like the feeling of short hair. This bob makes me look silly. Part of the reason I started this blog, was to document my different hairstyles...I still need to go platinum blonde before I die.

Ascend

2005-11-20T20:47:00.000Z

Ascend

2005-11-20T20:22:00.000Z

It's another one of those wacky facts...but the concept of fallen angels is kinda sexy. The recent spate of bad films dedicated to this very topic is perhaps an indication of how, despite our secularism, something about challenging God captures the human imagination. It's perhaps one of the reasons why John Milton created such controversy with his epic poem 'Paradise Lost'; what was meant to praise God, ends up making Lucifer look pretty impressive. Lucifer comes across as the ultimate democrat, stirring up his fallen companions with elegant rhetoric and crafty intelligence. One only has to look at the lasting effect the concept of Lucifer had on the Romantics to understand that the guy has a kind of...erm...presence. He's also been the muse of many poets and writers alike. No, I'm not a Satanist...quite the opposite. When I refer to Lucifer, I refer to the literary figure, the romantic icon, the idea that has been added to over the centuries. Anyway, I digress. The reason for this little tangent is that I have found a completely stunning graphic novel about fallen angels called Ascend. I think there's something quite beautiful about the artwork and the story line. It's derivative, but imaginative. I love it. I want it. I'm broke. Sigh.

This is an awesome site, where you can check out what's new and what's hot in the world of graphic novels: http://www.imagecomics.com/ I like it because you can actually read some of the latest comics online. I'll include a piccie of Ascend above this post.

Calvinisms

2005-11-15T16:14:00.000Z

Whenever things get really messy and life seems about to do a spectacular belly-flop, right above where I happen to be standing at any given moment, I turn to a rather obscure source of wisdom & insight: Calvin & Hobbes by Bill Watterson.

This is deeply superficial, but helps me see what some people call 'the funny side of life'...or is that the 'brighter side of life'? Who cares...whatever side it is, it's important that you can see it I guess (in case it too decides to sit on you). For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about...well...erm...you've been deprived.

Anyhow, I've decided to write down a couple of 'Calvinisms' which make me smile (when what I actually feel like doing is setting something on fire).

He he...this one is more of a universalism:

"In my opinion, we don't devote nearly enough scientific research to finding a cure for jerks."

This one makes me realise no conversation is wasted conversation:

"A little rudeness and disrespect can elevate a meaningless interaction to a battle of wills and add drama to an otherwise dull day."

This one is a good argument for Atheism:

"It's hard to be religious when certain people are never incinerated by bolts of lightning."

This one makes me think of every Friends episode I've ever watched:

"Why isn't my life like a situation comedy? Why don't I have a bunch of friends with nothing better to do but drop by and instigate wacky adventures? Why aren't my conversations peppered with spontaneous witticisms? Why don't my friends demonstrate heartfelt concern for my well being when I have problems? ...I gotta get my life some writers."

http://chris.ericbosken.net/pages/calvin.html

Bloody Hell

2005-11-13T21:33:00.000Z

Wow. I just had one of those surreal wake-up-calls that make you have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not in a dream. All I can say is that some people are just completely weird. One minute you think you know someone and then 'bam' reality bites. Bloody Hell. Think I just learnt one of those crappy little lessons life has up her sleeve...or more like one fell on my freakin' head and I had to take note.

*note to self: tone down on overly active imagination*

For Lovely Things Found by Accident

2005-11-08T12:51:00.000Z

I stumbled across this sonnet by accident, while doing some research on the form. I think some of the most interesting and lovely things are found by accident.

- Sonnet Macabre -

I love you for the grief that lurks within

Your languid spirit, and because you wear

Corruption with a vague and childish air,

And with your beauty know the depths of sin;

Because shame cuts you and holds you like a gin,

And virtue dies in you slain by despair,

Since evil has you tangled in its snare

And triumphs on the soul good cannot win.
I love you since you know remorse and tears,

And in your troubled loveliness appears

The spot of ancient crimes that writhe and hiss
I love you for your hands that calm and bless,

The perfume of your sad and slow caress,

The avid poison of your subtle kiss.

by Theodore Wratislaw, from "Caprices" (1893)

I love this sonnet. I find it haunting and beautiful. It reminds me of women like Dorothy Parker & Anais Nin. I love the fact that it goes against the convention of traditional Petrachan Sonnets and praises someone for all their faults and experience, rather than their physical perfections, which is similar to Shakespeare's 'My Mistress' Eyes Are Nothing Like the Sun'. I like the honesty of recognising desire as something potentially destructive. I'm listening to a really strange piece of music by Puerto Muerto, called Ghostee. It's a nice accompaniment to this sonnet, I think^^.

Mohammad Haque

2005-11-03T11:11:00.000Z

Someone sent me this image. I think it rocks. The person who sent it, however, is a complete twit. It's a sad fact of life that some twits have good taste.

New Haircut

2005-11-02T22:38:00.000Z

Yesterday I was a guinea-pig/model for a Toni & Guy student.
I got a cool new haircut for free. I think it makes me look a bit
girly in an Emily Strange kinda way...but a free haircut is a free
haircut.

Yauatcha & London's China Town

2005-11-01T23:41:00.000Z

Today I went walking around China Town, which is fast becoming one of my favourite haunts. Apart from fantastic stores that stock a wide variety of jasmine teas, exotic spices and various oriental nick knacks, the place has some truly wonderful restaurants. I found a shop that was called 'Feng Shui' and adorned wall to wall in colourful fish lanterns, which made the place seem playful and welcoming. I also found an interesting shop that sells Chinese pastries and sweets.
The smell that was wafting through street, inticed me to sit down and have a sticky bun and herbal tea. The hustle and bustle of China Town in the early morning also adds to an endearing atmosphere, despite the rumours of Chinese mafia chopping people's heads off with traditional swords. I resisted the urge to buy lanterns, fans or even silk slippers and made my way to Yauatcha for lunch.

Yauatcha is an awesome (but expensive) restaurant in Soho, on the corner of Broadwick & Berwick Street. It is both a tea house and Dim Sum restaurant, to be precise. On the top floor, one is greeted with an array of colourful delicacies, that seem almost too beautiful to eat. Here, you can choose from various cakes and puddings and a rich assortment of teas. Nothing is displeasing; a beautiful waitress, in Chinese dress, pours you steaming tea into beautiful crockery. I like the feeling of being pampered...even if I am paying for it. Below, is the Dim Sum restaurant and I can't even begin to name some of my favourite dishes. I like the atmosphere here and I also like the added snobbery of trotting off to the bathroom to wash my hands in delictable Molten Brown hand soap, which then bubbles away down a glorious basin shaped like a water feature ^^

Sticking with World of Warcraft

2005-10-31T20:05:00.000Z

I played a lil' bit of Guild Wars. The characters were hot, but the gameplay was a little slow. As a result, I've decided to stick with WoW. It's Halloween tonight and all over Tooting firecrackers and fireworks are lighting up the sky. I think the fruit warehouse below must have received a large shipment of bananas, since the entire flat smells like them.

The market smells like the usual mix of fish, rotting vegetables and spicy food. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine being somewhere back in Africa. I love the smell of Autumn, especially just before it rains. That really reminds me of home. Last August I was in East Africa and spent quite a bit of time in Kenya and Lamu...something in me really wants to be back there now; sunburnt and healthy. One of the things I love about Africa, is the abundance of fire. It sounds like such a stupid thing to say, but I miss open bonfires. In the Masai Mara, we stayed at a camp which lit a large fire every night and my hair constantly smelt of woodsmoke.

England has a different beauty...but it's docile. The sky is moody and constantly shifting, but too often settles in a listless, grey colour that I find oppressive and bad for the soul. My father told me that when he was a little boy, growing up in Borough, he sometimes felt claustrophobic because the clouds seemed to hang so low. I think I know what he means now.

I wanted to go to Amsterdam for a few days, but it looks like I'm stuck in London. So, I'm trying to make the most of it and not spend everyday on my arse gaming until my fingers hurt and my eyeballs turn red. So far, I've spent about 10hrs at gym doing Yoga (no, not all in one day) and the equivalent playing WoW. I should read more. I should write more but I feel as listless as the English sky.

Guild Wars

2005-10-30T10:51:00.000Z

Mmm...just discovered this game. Not sure if it will pull me away from World of Warcraft...but this female Necromancer does give Shadow a run for her money. The reviews I've read on this game are excellent, ranging from 80 - 99 % recommended. I guess it's time
to play it and make up my own mind.

Doing Fine

2005-10-30T01:33:00.000Z

This post is going to be cryptic...and I guess that it's meant just for me then. Anyhow, I've realised a pretty interesting truth about myself and my relationships today...and all I can say...is that I'm doing fine and actually, I doubt myself far too much. Today I realised, if I'm honest, I couldn't really give a rat's ass about what people think of me. It's nice being liked and all that, but then good ol' Shakespeare had a point when he had a character say 'to thyne own self be true'....so today, I realised it's time to start taking his advice^^

Why One Should Never Sled Off A Cliff

2005-10-30T01:10:00.000Z

Post Secret

2005-10-29T13:50:00.000+01:00

This site is sad, funny and heartbreaking all at the same time. I guess, we all have secrets. I read this blog and for each secret, I think of a complex character for a story.

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

I'm A Gremlin

2005-10-29T13:33:00.000+01:00

Sometimes, if I think about it, I come to realise that I'm a bit like a
Gremlin. Now, I know that Roald Dahl coined the phrase, but I always
associate the term with the Steven Spielberg series. I think the film
was every child of the 80's obsession, for about a week...but it gave
me nightmares. The thought that something so cute and fluffy could
transform into something so scaly and horrible...well, it made me look
at my dog in a whole new light. Anyhow, lately I recognised my
mood-swings are a bit like this fictional creature. I go from being
sublime, cute (not fluffy) and lovable to completely destructive. I
would smash things if I actually had vases to smash. I think that's
why I really identified with the more macabre Hindu deities, when I was
growing up in Natal. I remember watching the firewalking festivals and
devotional piercings, while my mother tried to explain why the people
were doing these things. I'm not for a moment suggesting that
firewalking should be a form of therapy for people with destructive
moods...but maybe the Pagans had a point when they had big, impressive,
communal bonfires. Anyway, I've been a complete disaster lately...I
can't even write properly...arrrrgh.

Degas, Sickert and Toulouse-Lautrec and On Beauty

2005-10-26T11:55:00.000+01:00

Today I plan to go to an exhibition of Degas, Sickert and Toulouse-Lautrec with a writer friend of mine. Hopefully, I will see something interesting along the way...apart from the exhibition itself, which will be wonderful. Having an old friend, who knows me well and knows my writing is such a comfort. He's off to New York on Monday to lecture in Creative Writing...which I find extremely cool. Last night he read some of my work and is encouraging me to get off my arse, stop being so precious about my work and get the damn stuff published...which I plan to do...sometime.

I'm finding that since I created my other blog and am now making the effort to carry my camera around with me, I'm seeing more and more beautiful things everyday. I'm not sure if part of my soul is just waking up; that part that has been in such a morbid funk since I moved from Africa to London, or if I'm just growing up? In fact, what I'm doing seems to be the reverse of 'growing up' I seem to be tapping into that childlike delight that makes me who I am. I feel that beauty is a balm for the soul and have started two books that my beloved has been recommending for ages that I read:

On Beauty and Being Just by Elaine Scarry
On Beauty by Umberto Eco

Beautiful Blog

2005-10-20T23:45:00.000+01:00

I started a new blog today. Think it's where I'll put my more serious observations ^^. Please visit it if you read this one at all.

http://beautifulthingsrock.blogspot.com/

Street Art

2005-10-17T17:42:00.000+01:00

My beautiful home town (Cape Town, South Africa) is bedecked with some really interesting graffiti...as well as some completely crap (oooh, alliteration) tagging (by some guy called FAITH, in particular, who better have learnt to make something beautiful by the time I finally move home). As a result, I've always been quite interested in street art, especially when it reflects the flavour of a city. I found this cool piece of Graff, when I was touring St Theresa in Brazil. Although it actually reflects sweet-f*** all about Brazilian culture and would be more fitting in the streets of Tokyo, I can't resist a girl in a bunny suit. If I had an avatar it would be a cute girl in a bunny suit...although I'm not sure where I got the bunny-suit-fetish-thang *thinks back to idyllic childhood*. Anyhow, in praise of the urban landscape...this site is a real tribute to street art and worth checking out: http://www.woostercollective.com/2003_11_02_newsarchive.html

More Musings on the World of Warcraft

2005-10-17T14:12:00.000+01:00

I dedicate far too much time and effort to this game. This is an old screenshot I took on my first trip to Stromguard Keep. Also, a friend of mine sent me this link:

http://joonas.lindstedt.fi/turhaa/wowlotr.gif which will only really make sense to those of you that play WoW...enjoy *snickers*.

Halloween

2005-10-16T15:10:00.000+01:00

Shadowraith's new boyfriend was a little rough-around-the edges...but she thought his Halloween costume was kinda cute^^

Mood of the Month

2005-10-15T20:03:00.000+01:00

This is my Mood of the Month: Weirded Out by Everything

basically all the things that are affecting me this month are as follows:

Blog I like: http://luckycrackers.blogspot.com/

This one is just funny and the title reminds me of some people that play Halo 2

News:

All the disasters in the world give me that sneaky feeling it's all about to end soon :(
I think it's time I joined a cult, while I still have time...but there are so many to choose from.

Work:

Firstly the Northern Line, may it burn in hell. I put on a play with little kiddies for the Shakespeare Schools Festival, which was a LOT of work but a success. Some of my older writing students are more talented than I am, especially at photography & writing which makes me feel like poo.

Food:

The amount of aspartame in all the diet food I'm eating. I hear that stuff kills rats. Oh, and today, when I read the ingredients on the back of my low fat cottage cheese, I found something called Locust Bean Paste/Gum...which doesn't actually bear thinking about.

My Bad Hairdo:

Which is just not doing what it's supposed to do. Hey, at least it's not falling out.

Planets:

Have no clue. I like Saturn...but being Capricorn (the most boring star sign in the world) I'm sure it's something boring. In fact it's probably an asteroid...not even a planet affecting me this month.

Games:

World of Warcraft (and Black & White 2 by default because it's preventing me from playing WoW as much as I would like)

Bands:

Harvey Danger
My Bloody Valentine
Broken Social Scene
The New Pornographers
Fischerspooner

One Song in Particular:

Lover I Don't Have To Love by Bright Eyes (tres cool band...actually, he's only one person)

Exercise:

yoga and my nifty bicycle

Bad Thoughts About People:

Too many to actually count :(

You Know What Really Fucking Sucks?

2005-10-15T19:36:00.000+01:00

You know what sucks? The fact that I did a little browsing of people with similar interests and discovered that they all had the pink / My Little Pony thing going with their blog setup...which makes me feel like a prat. Not only that...but most girls feeling the pink vibe were bad writers or had only submitted like 2 posts. It's like one of those moments when you turn around and all of your friends have fucked off, leaving you at some crappy party talking to the spotty guy...not that I actually know what that feels like. I guess I'm just angsty...which is strange considering I've just done an hour and a bit of intense yoga. Why does live journal seem like a better plan now?

Sigh, I decided then to peruse Suicide Girls...since I once remember reading the journal of a supremely hot girl that liked to play World of Warcraft naked...and I could have sworn she also had a thing for plastic lil' ponies. The Pony Project looks cool http://www.theponyproject.com/ and features some pretty awesome female artists like Fafi ^^ who rocks. Mmm *looks back at what she's written* bloody hell, I sound like a freakin' lesbian...don't think that this Yoga thing is good for me. Think I'm gonna go take out my pens and start writing.

Don't Panic

2005-10-15T01:09:00.000+01:00

I love my 'Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy' T-Shirt...somehow...I can never follow its advice ^^

Ode to the Northern Line

2005-10-14T12:29:00.000+01:00

Ah, good old British Transport. Sigh. This week alone, about 10hrs of my precious time has been wasted as a result of delays, suspensions and cancellelations. Another thing I would like to know: Are the violent-blue, electric sparks that go flying off the tracks sometimes... normal? The reason I ask is that yesterday (while waiting an hour for my train) one of these 'little sparks' set a discarded pack of cigarettes on fire. I watched it burn a fantastic, green-blue, leaving a large black singe mark where matter had once been. It's food for thought anyway.

Another thing I've noticed, is that every train seems to have its own repetoire of strange, worrying noises. The one I was on this morning sounded like a bad steel band and the one I was on yesterday sounded like the famous 'knife in the shower scene' from Psycho (insert high pitched *ching...ching...ching* here). Some even sound like an elaborate piece of Noh or Kabuki Theatre; a sound like twanging strings.

The fact that the Northern Line has been suspended for the last two days means that getting to work has been...mmm...trying. I've had to rely on a bus service crammed to bursting point, that at the end of the day is actually slower than walking! I tried to compose a little limerick or ditty to release some of the overwhelming anger I have experienced while stranded in some badly-lit, smelly station. However, it's just far too depressing. All I could come up with was this:

Ode to the Big Red Fucking Bus

Standing on the corner

waiting for the bus,

it begins to rain

and I begin to fuss!

When the bus arrives,

the driver drives passed;

the bus is filled to bursting

and he just can't be arsed!

Complicated

2005-10-11T07:12:00.000+01:00

Yes...talk about being at a loss for words.

I've been reading Jean Jaques Rosseau...which doesn't really help.

Why is life so friggin' complicated?

High Drama

2005-10-09T23:31:00.000+01:00

Tonight...coming home after a really long session in an internet cafe...I was greeted with two fire engines and a burly crew of firemen. The fire-alarm had been set off by my neighbour, a beautiful but ditsy fitness intructor, who had managed to leave some candles burning, which had set some of the glorious, pink synthetic material she adorns her room with...on fire. Needless to say...it was an eventful evening...after which I still made a French chicken dish...sigh. I go to bed now...tired...slightly annoyed...and filled with good red wine ^^

Gaming Girls Get Skinny ^^

2005-10-05T13:19:00.000+01:00

Whether it is the long hours spent playing, denying the body of food and sleep, or some undiscovered substance that speeds up your metabolism, activated by clicking with the forefinger and index finger, the fact is that gaming girls get skinny. Perhaps I am an anomaly, but I've lost weight simply gaming for two weeks. This is a particularly superficial trait; discussing one's weight, so I'll say no more about it.

*thinks long and hard*

Come to think of it though... it could be a multiplicity of things...perhaps an active imagination helps as well :D

Lucie in Pearls

2005-10-04T15:10:00.000+01:00

My short story collection is coming along nicely...I might even meet my deadline. The one entitled Lucie in Pearls is inspired by a painting that I love by the same name and this poem by Christina Rossetti, which I also love:

In an Artist's Studio

One face looks out from all his canvases,
One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans:
We found her hidden just behind those screens,
That mirror gave back all her loveliness.
A queen in opal or in ruby dress,
A nameless girl in freshest summer-greens,
A saint, an angel - every canvas means
The same one meaning, neither more nor less.
He feeds upon her face by day and night,
And she with true kind eyes looks back on him,
Fair as the moon and joyful as the light:
Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim;
Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright;

Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.

When it's finished I will plop it on this blog...or maybe not. I love this poem, because it reminds me of painters like Waterhouse and Leighton, who were focused on the Pre-Raphaelite female form...and in all their paintings there is a thread of similarity in their chosen muse; pale skinned classical beauty framed by what seems like infinite sadness. Being inspired by the female form myself, I find this poem has a poignant message about desire and objectification. I believe A.S Byatt (one of my favourite writers) was inspired to write a collection of short stories by Matisse, entitled The Matisse Stories, which seems to suggest the relationship between beautiful art and beautiful literature is a symbiotic one.

A Truly Blaaaaarrrrggghhh Morning

2005-10-04T08:49:00.000+01:00

I missed my train. Spilt coffee. Trying to put my makeup on on the train, I smudged lipstick up the one side of my face and nearly poked my eye out with a stick of mascara. Once at the station, I missed my taxi and fell over my own heels. Ive decided I'm only going to wear heels in the safety of my own home from now on - I'm sick to death of falling over.

Better Angle of Crappy Haircut

2005-10-03T23:00:00.000+01:00

Everyone has had more sex than me

2005-10-03T01:23:00.000+01:00

This is really, really funny:

http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/bunny.php

Most recent hairstyle

2005-10-02T22:29:00.000+01:00

I Love Sufjan

2005-10-02T21:28:00.000+01:00

Weird Australians

2005-10-02T15:52:00.000+01:00

Yes, I'm beginning to get a sneaky suspicion that I am cursed. Especially when it comes to finding new places to live. My first flat was something that resembled a velt-green basement, decorated by Norman Bates. It was also behind a gym and a curry shop - which meant that I had the endless mantra of 'lift those legs higher...burn those calories' to the constant smell of Chicken Tikka Masala. This, needless to say, was not a fitting combination for a girl trying to maintain a sexy physique. It was also plagued by a demonic cat, which left a nail in my beloved's hand when he was trying to feed the ugly bastard. The garden, albeit the size of a small hand towel, seemed to have a mind of its own and spawned numerous weeds that seemed to defy my tiny hand shovel. I'm almost certain, that it was the wild ivy growing up the side of the cottage that actually kept it together.

Anyhow, let's skip onto flat number two (to which I have dedicated a short novel). Flat number two was more accurately a cottage, not a flat. It was about 150yrs old and used to be, I was bemused to find, a milking cottage - where cows were placed to be milked. Yes, so if the place was haunted, it was haunted by disgruntled cow-ghosts with aching udders. Oh, and perhaps by the many spiders that they crushed with their careless hooves, since there were an awful lot of those around to. In fact, during my year in the cow-cottage, I almost began to accept the hairy little things, until I woke up one morning with one smiling at me on the pillow, about an inch from my nose. He had crossed a boundary and I could have sworn it was the same cheeky muppet that had hitched a ride in the pocket of my winter coat on my walk to the station one morning...needless to say 'Fred' as I lovingly named him, ended up as a rather ugly mess on the cover of the Autumn Vogue.

Flat number three was in good old Clapham Junction, which seemed like a good idea at the time. While access to transport was a doddle, the alcoholic George Michael obssessed man living above me made things more than a tad unpleasant. In fact I still have nightmares about waking up at four am in the morning to 'Like Jesus to a Child' - perhaps the most loathed George Michael song in the world. Now, for those of you reading this blog that actually like George Michael, I want you to know that there is something very, very wrong with you....especially if you liked him in WHAM...then you should quietly go stop breathing somewhere before someone finds out.

Well, that brings me to flat number four...and back to the title of this post. When I moved into my fab new pad, I did notice the smell of rotting fruit and the pleasant, but incessant smell of yes...could it be? More curry! So it seems that I was back to a similar set up as flat number one...only that flat number four was just plain funky, in both senses of the word. I fell in love with the deck balcony, the large kitchen and the wooden floors. The first few months passed blissfully, apart from the odd drug deal that takes place in my new hood, it's rather quiet and peaceful. There is of course the rather strange church with the red luminous cross but I've kinda got used to that.

Now comes the rather eerie part. The weird Australian part. Today I have a mid-afternoon breakfast / brunch with my beloved and discover that the Australian couple above us, who I thought had been making an awful lot of noise in the last week...had actually pulled a runner, owing 3 months rent or something. So...this was something of a predicament...since I had been hearing weird sounds the last couple of nights. Having a rather over-active imagination, akin to Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes, I tried to imagine what was making those strange noises upstairs. I have decided that somethings are better left uninvestigated - especially with luck like mine. If Satan is spawning demons up there, I'm not gonna interrupt him.

Hairstyle record 1

2005-10-01T19:51:00.000+01:00

Am starting a collection of all my weird haircuts - so that when I eventually go grey I'll have some record I was once funky.

I'm so into Zombies right now

2005-09-29T08:36:00.000+01:00

It has nothing to do with George A. Romero's 'Land of the Dead' - which was slightly disappointing and not nearly gory enough, but I'm really into Zombies at the moment. I'm not quite sure where it all began - if it was too many late nights playing Resident Evil games until my eyes resembled one of the recently deceased, or whether it was the band called 'The Zombies', or whether it was simply having to endure the crush of London Transport (East Croydon in particular)...but I kinda like the fumbling, staggering things and have developed something of a penchant for Zombie roleplaying games. Despite having found many unforgivable spelling, grammar and punctuation errors on the cards that accompany the Zombies!!! board game - it's a great game to play with 4 or more people, when slightly inebriated and sure beats spin-the-freakin-bottle or pictionary ^^

So...some fantastic zombie sites:

http://kevan.org/proce55ing/zombies/ (fantastic zombie simulation)
http://www.zombiejuice.com/
http://www.brains4zombies.com/
http://consc.net/zombies.html

hibernating

2005-09-26T14:36:00.000+01:00

I seem to be in a temporary state of writing hibernation. Somehow my thoughts will not be penned. Instead they seem to flit passed me, unwilling to see themeselves in type. I've done a lot of travelling lately, but still nothing seems to come to mind to write about. I have an idea for two new short stories 'The Golden Gun' & 'Lucie in Pearls' but that's about it. The first is inspired by my dad's wild days growing up in South London, during the fad of mods & rockers - the second by my gorgeous Louise Dear painting of the same title. Hopefully they will be ready soon...sigh...but there's a flat to clean before then. I've been doodling with digital cameras - my page boy haircut sucks at the moment and I'm desperately trying to grow it again...but alas...it just remains messy and unkempt; a shakespearean extra with severe stagefright. I thought I would let it grow...to see if I had any grey streaks...but it just begs to be ruffled and dyed.

Athens, Airports and Little Greek Islands

2005-07-15T21:52:00.000+01:00

Well, it's been a long time since I last wrote anything of substance on this blog...far too long in fact. I've just returned from two weeks holiday in Greece, in a small village called Kioni on the island of Ithaca. I'm tanned, happy and completely relaxed (despite having flown with Easy Jet).

I arrive back to a London that is completely different - nothing seems physically to have changed - and yet I know that something has changed fundamentally...something that can't be seen, a fear that bubbles just below the surface. I heard about the terrorist attack on London via my mum who called me frantically from South Africa, since I was without television, radio or even an English newspaper. What was more frustrating was that I was without any way of contacting my friends or students, since I was sans mobile phone as well. I tried to cope with what news I could wangle from the local people of the island, but have returned still unsure if any of my students have been affected. All I can do is hope until I see them all again...but it is that selfish kind of hope and that humbling gratitude which leaves me feeling guilt that my loved ones escaped this event unscathed. Anyway, let me try and write about my holiday without sounding too morbid...since normality and carpe diem are the only defense we have against myopic fuck-heads who wish to instil fear and paranoia in the innocent.

I've made this trip before, usually stopping off in Athens for a night or two, before taking an excruciating bus ride to Patras. From Patras it's another four hours on a smokey, air-conditioned ferry equipped with very bad Greek television and Euro hits, as well as a cafe that sells cigarettes, cheese pies, frappes and more cheese pies and more cigarettes.

Once outside Athens, Greece seems strangely industrial. Between small naps taken with my head sandwiched between my hand luggage and the window, I remember glancing up to see highways strewn with pink and white Oleander, large chunks of blue sky and more than the odd car warehouse. In fact, I have never seen a country selling so many cars; all shiny and slick-hot in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. If a plane flies low over the bus route to Patras, I wonder if it's passengers see nothing but a mirage, as those harsh rays reflect off the multicoloured metal?

Athens is altogether different and, in my opinion, best viewed in the late afternoon or early evening, when the vast multitude of tavernas set out candles, lanterns, electric-fairy lights and the odd crooning Greek folksinger in attempt to draw in the customers. The Plaka and Psiri are the best places to walk on foot at night - full of interesting, secret places and fascinating faces. The air is full of the smell of sizzling meat, olive oil and vinegar, strange perfumes and the odd whiff of sewerage. The Acropolis looks truly like the 'sacred rock of Athens' and there are a couple of bars with roof gardens where one can gaze in relative privacy. The Paris Cinema, is an open air cinema - usually showing only one film - but the experience is unforgetable on a hot night. You can order ice-cold beers during the film or Greek sweets and the overall effect has that childlike appeal of being at an old fashioned drive-in.

During the day Athens is a sprawling city of yellow sunlight reflecting off large chunks of marble and white concrete, ancient ruins and beautiful aging buildings, some abandoned and curious make the place an interesting remix of the ancient, the new and profoundly kitsch. Alleyways cluttered with interesting shops - aimed largely at tourists smell of cured leather, wood, icecream and steaming Greek coffee. The city has an incredible assortment of stray cats of various shapes, colours and sizes which whine incessantly for food. My one night in Athens was wonderful, but I looked forward to the quiet peace of Kioni and spending time simply drifting on the Ionian Sea.

When I finally arrived on the island of Ithaca, I was greeted by the familiar, incessant hum of Cicadas, a cool breeze off the ocean and a sky that seemed almost Indigo in the afternoon sunlight. During my time there I swam with phosphorescent plankton in the evenings, which lit up each of my movements like a trail of lazy stars...it really is something magical to see. I enjoyed good food, saturated in extra virgin olive oil and the kind hospitality of the locals. I played games with my friends, had naked midnight swims and grilled handmade sausages over beach fires. I slept late, swam everyday, examined many purple urchins, snorkelled around a series of underground caves, got sunburnt, rented a boat and a scooter and just had a marvellous time...I will write more about Greece soon...but for now I think this is enough.

Blaaarrrrgggghhh....I hate working

2005-06-14T22:12:00.000+01:00

It's so late.

Wow...

Now sleep deprivation has taken on a whole new meaning.

Mmm...how the light seems to hum...things are trailing.

I think I've stared at the freckles on my arms for about an hour now...damn procrastination. Must have another cup of coffee...but that means having to go to the loo....and this place is deserted, apart from me, and that would mean going to the scary loos alone...where there are freaky noises...and the fluorescent lights flicker on and off in a that Japanese-Horror-Film-way. Mmm...where is that pesky security guard anyhow?

I think my freckles look like constellations of stars....whoooaaa....my thoughts are running away with me. Still at work...still have hours to go editing this God-damned magazine....keep looking at the pretty pictures...once again I watch the letters dancing on the page...they look so freakin pretty, but I wish they would stand still. It feels like I need pins to stick them in place - like a collection of rare insects. Oh no...another scary thought...I'm gonna have to walk to the place I'm lodging tonight...damn...it's dark. Right now I wish I didn't watch so many zombie films. Ok...getting scared....logging off.

Concussion & Swedish Chocolate

2005-06-12T14:27:00.000+01:00

Well, just when you think things couldn't get any worse than Sleep Deprivation...some piece of furniture decides to attack you. In the last two weeks I've hit my head really hard twice - which cannot be good - especially since the second time I saw the kind of twinkly happy stars that only cartoon characters are meant to see.

The first time - I slipped on the new yuppy-wooden floors in the new apartment and fell hard on my bottom, before smacking my head. I lay on my back for a little while, just looking at the ceiling...wanting very badly to blame someone other than myself for this unfortunate event. I had that feeling that little children get when they decide to throw tantrums in supermarkets...it was that feeling of wanting to cry and scream really loudly - so that others in your immediate vincity can suffer. Sigh. However, I was alone...so I just raised an angry fist towards my Chamaedorea elegans (pot plant) - which was the only witness to my sad, clumsy fall. I even felt like shouting at it "What the fuck do you think you're looking at all safe in your little corner over there, huh?"....but it seemed to wilt under my angry gaze...so I felt bad and just got some ice from the fridge and made a makeshift icepack with a Sainsbury's packet. It was then that I realised that the icecubes I had were also shaped like stars (God bless Ikea). This made me feel a little sick...so I decided only a glass of wine would do and that helped.

The second time it was a piece of flatpack furniture that came crashing down on my head with the kind of 'thwaaaack' sound that should only happen when Kung Fu Masters crack planks of wood with their hands, or just after lumberjacks shout 'timber'. Anyhow, it hurt. This time I thought I saw little Swedish milkmaids as well as stars dancing around my head. I cried...then made another icepack with my star-shaped icecubes and when that didn't help...I ate chocolates - a whole freakin box of them ha ha ha ha (insert maniacal laughter here) followed by half a bottle of red wine (insert even more maniacal laughter here) ha ha ha.

Well, needless to say. Last night was my first good night's sleep since I moved into the flat. Saying that I slept like the dead would be an understatement.

Triptych

2005-06-08T19:10:00.000+01:00

I'm getting sick of seeing my own face...so these are absolutely the last piccies of me that will grace this blog ever. These are for my friends Roy and Sarah (miss you guys) who want to know what I look like after our long time apart.

Ah...So This Is Sleep Deprivation

2005-06-08T17:19:00.000+01:00

I'm so tired...that all the letters on my screen look like small, wobbly insects as I'm typing this...and that can't be good. For some reason I'm not sleeping very well and my usually 'well-behaved' imagination is now intruding upon my nap time...plaguing me with ideas for poems and novels at the most inappropriate moments.

My right hand is covered in ink from writing so much and yesterday I walked around with a great smear of blue across my cheek without even realising it...that's the last time I suck on pens for inspiration...I'm surprised I haven't had any allergic reactions to the amount of ink I've swallowed...it's definately time I resorted to writing in pencil...or else get a laptop (ooohhh...thinks of shiny white Apple Mac). For the moment I will just have to deal with looking like a Mentat from Frank Herbert's 'Dune' what with my purple-blue stained lips and all....in fact (glances in a mirror) sleep deprivation is making me look thinner...and kinda zombified...a bit like the Zombie Pinup Girls (see in my links) I found on a darling fellow blogger's site (Queen Tilly U Rock ^^).

My work load seems insurmountable at the moment and my eyeballs hurt from reading so much. In three weeks I have to tutor a group on 'The Wide Sargasso Sea' by Jean Rhys, 'The Merchant of Venice' by Shakespeare, while editing a creative writing magazine and studying the Metaphysical Poets! Aaaarrggghhh, all my illusions of grandeur shattered - my desire to start Wu Shu Kwan and fly through the air like Jet Li dashed upon the harsh, sharp rocks of reality (what a crappy metaphor that was...I am tired).

Anyhow...new flat rocks....except that I'm scared to use anything, terrified of breaking something and even more afraid of starting fires in my somnambulistic state...think I better order Chinese takaway tonight.

Me pissed off

2005-06-07T16:58:00.000+01:00

Boxing Day

2005-06-02T15:02:00.000+01:00

I'm currently living out of boxes. The new flat is awesome...but my creativity is at an all time low. It's pretty amazing, apart from the pervading smell of rotting fruit that comes from living so close to Tooting Market, which while convenient makes me remember some of the places I've lived in Africa a little too well. The garbage tip outside the flat was initially filled with fermenting avocados and mangoes...a smell I would not wish on anyone. Hopefully the noxious liquid oozing from the refuse will simply seep away in the next couple of days...or else I might go mad. As it is I can't even drink fruit juice at the moment...and I can't even bear the thought of eating a mango!

The move went well though...but people aren't wrong when they rate it as stressful as divorce or suffering the loss of a loved one...bloody hell I feel weird. At least I get to watch Sin City tonight and maybe drown out the sound of my disgruntled bank account...sigh.

Tooting is a fascinating mixture of people. The markets are colourful and bright. The air is filled with strange smells: spices, fruit, incense and sweetmeats. I feel like I've moved to another country, when in reality I have only moved a couple of kilometres. However, today I plan to explore and walk around...because my hands testify to the fact that I have done far too much cleaning in the last few days and I deserve a break.

And This Is The Reason I'll Be Watching Sin City

2005-05-26T12:25:00.000+01:00

Sin City

2005-05-26T11:44:00.000+01:00

Despite the media hype...I know this film is going to rock - not just because I'm a fan of the comics...but well...just look at the trailer. This film is going to be so stylistically true to the comic that how can one help but love it? Also, look at all the girls...I mean wow...just...wow.

http://www.sincitythemovie.com/

Ronnie Burkett

2005-05-26T10:10:00.000+01:00

I've mentioned this amazing puppeteer before - but I cannot recommend him highly enough...check out the following link and see if you can see one of his shows...he rocks.

http://www.johnlambert.ca/ronnie/ronnie_productions.htm

The Devil Makes Work For Idlehands ^^

2005-05-26T09:06:00.000+01:00

Once again I'm writing about World of Warcraft...but this is short dedication to my good friend Idlehand...whose real identity shall remain a mystery. Well, yesterday I snuck out of my guild...yes...the one I had been apart of for all of one day...needless to say, I did not feel that warm fuzzy feeling with them...and so...like Han Solo without his Wookie...I was completely and utterly alone. Alone in a world of elite quests and dangerous dungeons, vulnerable to Horde and enemies alike...in short...a sitting duck. A sitting duck with "I want my mommy" written on my forhead.

Then the phone rang. 'Who could that be at this late hour?' I thought (contemplating the omen much like Edgar Allen Poe did the Raven above his door)...but no...it wasn't a prank phonecall...and it wasnt a tele-marketer...it was Chris...whoops...gave his name away. I had been saved...I wasn't going to die a rather humiliating death at the hands of some petty little Horde bastard...oh no...I had a high lvl friend...who was also guild-less and he was gonna help me^^

Anyway, so Idlehand and I decided to quest together...and it was fan-freakin-tastic...enemies fell down at our feet...monsters recoiled in fear...invisible rogues made themselves even more invisible...and basically I levelled twelve bars in about an hour and a half...which, for those of you who don't play WoW, is a lot! Not only were we elfin rockstars...but we matched...probably to Chris's horror...and now we are looking for equally calm, cool, darn sexy people to join our guild Look To Windward - which is a pretty deep name for a guild of elves...for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about...get reading...and discover the joy of intertextuality ^^. If I'm being arrogant...forgive me...just go read some Iain M Banks:

http://www.iainbanks.net/index.htm

Anyhow...so what if we still haven't signed enough people to start an actual guild just yet...we have the name...and we have the threads...it's just a matter of time right? Lol

And for the road, here's another link about Iain M Banks:

"Iain Banks writes books about sex and drugs. Iain M Banks is a sci-fi nerd. Are they by any chance related?" 1997

Most Recent Photograph of Me

2005-05-26T09:02:00.000+01:00

Well...this is my most recent look....my hair is not doing what I want it to do...but then again at least I didn't decide to go blonde...which would have been a mistake I think. Yes, a train does not offer the best ambiance for taking photos...but I was bored as hell and had a camera.

The Darth Side

2005-05-24T14:13:00.000+01:00

I went to watch Star Wars episode III: Return of the Sith. Despite myself I really enjoyed it. Actually, who am I kidding? I've enjoyed every Star Wars episode apart from the one where Jar Jar Binks actually has dialogue...and even then I remember thinking "I want a wardrobe like Princess Amadala's!".

Wow, I even remember asking my mom to do my hair like Princess Leia's when I first started school. I walked into my new classroom all proud with my plaited buns and I had a lunch tin with a picture of the Ewoks on it...which was perhaps the most damaging thing for my early social life. The popular girls scorned me, running to the corner to huddle in a mass of blonde girls and My Little Ponies. Needless to say the buns were only a hit with the pale geeky guy who used to sit at the back of the class picking his nose...but he was a good friend anyhow and used to give me all the chocolate his mum had packed for his lunch. Ah, even then I was a manipulative chocoholic.

Anyhow, I thought the guy that played Darth Vader / Anakin was hot...despite his brooding, sulking looks...which I suppose was why they chose him. I can imagine his audition:
"Now, imagine you stand poised on the brink of good/evil Mr-what's-ur-face and now give us your most brooding look...no...even more brooding...in fact here... put this hood on...now these yellow contact lenses....ah...perfect!". Although I thought his single "I am so very evil" look reminded me of the film Zoolander...I was nonetheless deeply saddened to see his good looks secreted away in the Vader Suit.

So...in my search for pictures of the hottie...I found this fantastic blogg. I think it's really funny - so go read it. It is the blogg of the dark Lord himself...he he

http://darthside.blogspot.com/

Please Father Christmas

2005-05-24T11:22:00.000+01:00

Striped Nudes by Louise Dear

More Paintings

2005-05-24T10:37:00.000+01:00

More Beautiful Nudes by Louise Dear

The Politics of WoW

2005-05-24T10:06:00.000+01:00

Once again I find myself writing about World of Warcraft, which is sad. My relationship with Blizzard is a delicate one, in which I am the Gimp. Blizzard wears the pants in this sorry union, while I merely smile and pray to God that my server is actually running on the day I decide to play. I have forgiven them for the endless patches, the flawed honour system that has caused so many higher-level Horde to gank me relentlessly and the fact that I actually pay them monthly for all this frustration. I have even forgiven them for the sad reality that a decent mount costs more gold than even a freaking Genii could supply….but I digress.

I cannot quite explain what is so addictive and compelling about a game that is essentially about ‘collecting things’. I understand that this is one of the fundamental things needed to define a ‘quest’ (see any legend or myth and you will see I’m right). For the knights of old it was the Holy Grail or the left toenail of St. Paul…for me it seems to be Centaur ears, Murloc eyeballs or the rotting gall bladder of the bloated swamp beast of Burning Steppes. Ok…so I made that last one up, but be it my endless pursuit of sexy armour, my collecting of strange and wonderful artefacts or my endless slaying of creatures for their furry pelts…I am endlessly collecting stuff. It’s interesting that the most desirable item at the beginning of the game is a bag / sack with enough slots to hold all this stuff. Perhaps it is fitting in a world driven by materialism…but if I have one more quest where I have to collect some skanky body part from some foul creature and then return it to some NPC that is the in game equivalent of my running by foot from London to Paris…well then I just might go mad. In fact, my only wish is that I had actually spent as much time running as my character.

But the real reason I decided to write this post…was to have a little rant about the politics of WoW. By this I mean the fragile relationship that exists between one and one’s guild. I recently left my guild…not because they weren’t a bunch of cracking, high-spirited young lads with a sense of humour to boot – but because I simply wasn’t able to quest with any of them (as they pretty skilled…to say the least). So…guild-less and slightly panicked at the prospect of not having a nifty title above my head…I set about finding another guild. But who to chose from? With guilds named ‘Dopeland’, ‘Accept Defeat’ and ‘We Kill Horde’ what was a fashionable girl like myself to do?

Also, dear readers, there is the strange phenomenon that predominates the World of Warcraft that I like to call “the bloody twelve year old Swede”. In all my life…I have never met so many Swedes as I have on the European Server. It worries me deeply…not because I have anything against Swedes…but simply because there are so many of them…or so it seems. But as the saying goes ‘if you can’t beat them – join them’…so I joined a guild that seems to consist largely of Swedes. Whether they are twelve year olds – remains to be seen…but I have a sneaky, sneaky suspicion that this could have been a bad move….we shall see.
If I could clone myself, or have an army of pretty elves (kind of like the Necromancer in Diablo II just not dead of course and not skeletons) I wouldn’t have need of a guild. However necessity is the mother of invention…so I await to see whether my new guild are a bunch of pillocks or valiant noble knights ^^

More Louise Dear

2005-05-23T15:30:00.000+01:00

Louise Dear

2005-05-23T15:29:00.000+01:00

The other weekend I went to Brighton for the annual art's festival. Apart from watching a mind-fucking piece of puppet theatre by Canadian performer Ronnie Burkett, who I cannot recommend highly enough, I also was mesmerised by the gorgeous, candy-coloured artwork of Louise Dear. While I do not want to buy all her paintings - one or two of them I found incredibly pleasing to look at...for long periods of time. I am not obsessed with nudes...but I find tasteful female nudes irresistible...more so than the airbrushed, glossy crap that adorns the covers of so many mindless men's magazines. For me a woman’s body is so much more beautiful in paint.

Having once posed nude myself for a South African Artist (Francine Greenblatt) on some crappy TV show (of which I was seen for about 20 seconds) I fully appreciate how the artist can transform the body...or strip it down to lines and curves that exude sex...or hard lines that emphasise form. Louise Dear's work is quite spectacular to behold (even though I could only afford one of her prints). You have to see the real thing. She paints in household paint (I think) against aluminium canvases - so that the paint is thick and sticky-looking like lip-gloss.

Her work would probably repulse my more critical friends and my darling friend, Sarah, who herself is one of the most thrilling artists I know - would cringe. However, like my taste in wine – where I believe it’s important to drink what one enjoys drinking (and save the show-off stuff for when someone knowledgeable comes round for dinner) I think art that one chooses for one’s home should please one…completely. In short, unless I’m infatuated with a piece of art – I don’t want it in my house.

I can, however, appreciate artists who create thought-provoking pieces of art, displaying decaying meat covered in flies behind glass in order to reflect something about the human condition – but living in London – where so many alleyways are covered in peeling layers of history – reeking and festering – scarred in graffiti and poster art – I prefer to feed my eyes with beautiful things…if I can…and the Louise Dear painting I bought is beautiful and elegant and very, very pleasing. The pictures on this blogg don’t do her justice…but one can get the idea.

More Pictures of the Freaky House

2005-05-13T12:50:00.000+01:00

Dangergirl

2005-05-13T12:30:00.000+01:00

It was the overwhelming amount of danger signs that first attracted me to the abandoned house...it was a bit like the 'Hansel & Gretel' story....or like leaving a trail of candy and telling a child not to follow it.

The Freaky House

2005-05-13T12:26:00.000+01:00

Here is another photograph of the freaky house. In a world too full of manicured lawns, garden gnomes and DIY water-features - the odd creepy, abandoned house is like finding forgotten money in your pocket. I still have a nasty cut from scaling the rusty fence...but it was worth it.

Picture of the Abandoned House I Found

2005-05-13T09:55:00.000+01:00

Ram & Sita

2005-05-13T09:47:00.000+01:00

Wu Shu Kwan & British Yobs

2005-05-13T09:09:00.000+01:00

Well, I haven't written for a really long time. Trying to find a new apartment (and finally free myself from the torment of living beneath a chronic George Michael fan) has been draining to say the least. Finally, after much disappointment, stress and a broken computer, my love and I have found a nifty place in Tooting. Tooting...mmm....that's an interesting name now that I think about it. When I was a little girl my dad used to sing a really silly song to make me laugh 'beans, beans the musical fruit...the more you eat the more you toot'. So I always associated the word 'tooting' with farting...which is crude - but true.

Anyway, Tooting seems nice enough to me and the wide variety of sari vendors and curry shops means that I'll be pretty happy. I also have a weird passion for Diwali sweets - which I saw plenty of while walking to the station after seeing the apartment. Diwali is my favourite Hindu festival, apart from Holi. Growing up in Durban (which has a very large Hindi and Tamil population) I remember the streets being decorated with lights, lanterns and colourful candles during Diwali. I used to listen avidly to my friends telling me about the love betweem Ram & Sita from the famous Ramayana and that Diwali celebrates their return from the forest as well as being a festival of light (read the poem if you want to know more, it's like a mythical soap-opera).

I've also decided to take up the martial art Wu Shu Kwan - which is apparently the ultimate form of self-defense without carrying around a loaded shotgun, which being a rather passionate Resident Evil fan, would be the only item to make me feel completely safe...since Yobs and the undead have a surprisingly lot in common. I've officially cancelled my gym membership and should start classes at the end of May. My reasoning is simple. My train ride to work every morning and the fact that I sometimes come home pretty late in the evenings, means that I have encountered some of the most unsavory characters that London has to offer. I shall try to remain positive and not digress into a complete rant...but let's just say I've had some rather horrid experiences with these young British yobs and the next time a young, pimpled seventeen year old in a tracksuit, bedecked in cheap bling decides to slap my arse or lick my face...I imagine kickboxing his empty head straight off his bloody shoulders. Yes, this will take years to perfect and I anticipate a lot of pain and bruises in the process...but the superheroine in me must be satiated...so beware all you 'happy-slappers' out there. I'm quite small...but apparently in this martial art...size doesn't matter...and until I can send burning balls of flaming chi out of my palms...this martial art will have to do.

Vogue....

2005-05-02T23:07:00.000+01:00

This should be the next cover of Vogue....those ears...that white hair...those piercing eyes and sumptuous pout.

Isn't She Lovely...Isn't She Beautiful

2005-05-02T23:04:00.000+01:00

I couldn't stop myself...this is my new WoW character Nightfrost. I think she's dead sexy, even though she's only a petty lvl 10. I plan to make her a super-powerful shadow priest (insert maniacal laughter here) and she will be great...oh yes....she will be great.

Burnt Toast

2005-05-02T18:29:00.000+01:00

There are times when one feels good. There are times when one is enjoying the prime of one's life, contemplating how healthy and young one is. Yes, spending a lot of time indoors playing World of Warcraft might be a little sad...but one can feel good doing it nonetheless, right? Anyway, I refuse to believe that frolicking too frequently on the digital frontier and thereby avoiding fresh air, human interaction and the occasional visit to the gym can be the cause of my terrible flu. In fact...my self-imposed solitary confinement should aid me in the constant struggle against 'other-people's-germs'. But I am experiencing one of those days when all illusions of immortality are dashed to pieces on that old, familiar friend 'harsh reality'.

I am ill....I am so ill it feels like my head is about to implode. I have the strangest sensation that all I can smell is burnt toast. This could have something to do with the fact that I did not want to leave the flat today and so when the hunger pangs set in...I tried to toast bagels under the grill and then forgot about them...until the smoke alarm went off. I wish I could say it was the first time I set the smoke alarm off...but that would be a lie...a terrible lie. I have, to date, set off the smoke alarm about 10 times. With my headache and fever, the alarm sounded like it was searing my very flesh...and all attempts to turn it off seemed to fail...until I nearly ripped the thing out the wall with frustration. Needless to say...the beast is now silent.

The thing I hate most about being sick is how slow my reflexes seem. I was lying on the couch reading a rather saucy book, aimed at adolescant girls, called "Forever Amber" by Kathleen Winsor. One of my creative writing students bought it for me and I'm so glad she did...because I'm devouring every chapter and in my hunger to read on I blocked out the following sounds: the phone ringing, my disgruntled neighbour playing *George Michael really loudly and finally the smoke alarm - which resulted in my burnt bagels.

Anyway, when the phone rang again...it was like I was in slow motion...I made to run to the phone...but kind of just stumbled, narrowly missing the coffee table. It was like I was moving through really thick mud...and in the end, I just gave up and flopped back on the couch...bugger the phone.

Right now I plan to settle down with some herbal tea and some more of this nifty cold & flu medicine I found, which makes me feel all serene and floaty, which can't be good for me. I plan to snuggle down into my duvet...with my tissues...close my eyes and hope I'm better in the morning.

*I must make a note about George Michael here. I cannot stand him. I have spent so many torturous nights being forced to listen to his sentimental, sacchrine songs...my least favourite of all being 'Like Jesus to a Child' which I find deeply creepy...especially the chorus. My neighbour, let's call him....mmm....Jack finds the need to play George Michael at all hours of the early morning and late evening really loudly. This is one of the few times I will not be exaggerating but it is the only thing Jack listens to. He has no other album...no other artist...but Jack deserves a whole post of his own I think.

Changing names

2005-05-02T12:25:00.000+01:00

I have to change the name of my blog. I discovered a guy with the same name...so, rather than become associated with him and his little world, I have decide to rename this page....but to what? Mmm....that is the question.

Note on the new name of my blog

2005-04-29T17:13:00.000+01:00

I discovered this fabulous long word today...which is actually an amalgamation of a few Latin words all crammed together, like a rather impressive toy train.

The word is Floccinaucinihilipilification and it means: the act of estimating as worthless (or of low value). Quite a useful word in a world of the disposable where there is far too much waste.

Why then rename my blog with this ridiculous and rather eccentric word you may ask yourselves? The reason is that some people might find my blog inspires them to engage in an act of Floccinaucinihilipilification, although I hope some enjoy my wasteful ramblings regardless.

But the word has great potential. Just imagine next time you are drunk at a party spurting out "Listen here you lot, your floccinaucinihilipifation concerning the amount of booze available at this here party is starting to make me feel rather flummoxed!!!". Your cerebrally gifted friends will be so proud of you and if you can say this word while drunk...well then you deserve something very special indeed...I can't think of what it could be...but something special.

Haunted Houses & Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy

2005-04-29T08:34:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, about the same time I was perving over the bright red tulips, I also discovered a fascinating abandoned house. It was one of those days when one is fully prepared for anything unusual to happen. One of those days when, from the moment you open your eyes, things seem ever so slightly out of place and a small voice in your head whispers "stay in bed...trust me...you don't want to go out there today".

However, being someone that appears to be allergic to good, sound advice, I ventured out anyway. I could not think of an excuse credible enough to skip work and I could not be bothered to put on my "I'm r-e-a-l-l-y sick...cough...cough...sniff...snort" voice. I did have rather incredible foresight though and decided that I would buy a disposable camera and take random photographs all day...just in case something out of the ordinary caught my eye.

I must mention at this point the possible reasoning behind this rather unusual desire to take a camera to work (because it is definately not anything to do with logic when it comes to the way my brain works). My dearly beloved is a CG artist and has just finished working on "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" - a film I thoroughly enjoyed. The joy about Douglas Adams' work...is that he (may he rest in peace) seems to imply that the Universe might actually have a sense of humour; a sense of humour that is wicked. Furthermore, you certainly do not wish to be the centre of any cosmic joke. So, to cut a story that is getting too long already a little short, I felt suspicious of the world yesterday....cough...and bollocks to anyone that has a problem with that.

So, on my way home from work, this old country house caught my attention. It was fenced off from public access and plastered with various warning signs (I counted about eight in total). The signs ranged from 'danger unstable ground' to 'trespassers will be prosecuted'. The intriguing thing about this house was that I had not noticed it before, even though I had walked this route to the station often. It was a delapidated red brick affair and the large windows were boardered shut, although a dirty lace curtain clung tenaciously to a shattered frame, like some misplaced piece of Mrs Haversham's boudoir. Nesting in the eaves of the roof, which was crumbling in upon itself, were a couple of wood pigeons - speckled and flustered. The place seemed to be recoiling from the public footpath, holding its breath so as not to draw attention to itself.

Despite the warnings, I tucked my dress up and attempted to scale the fence...so that I could get one or two pictures with my camera....to pop on this blog. Having successfully taken two photographs of the place and scraped my knee in the process, I tried to disengage myself from the rather flimsy fence, with which I had become intimately entangled. At that moment I noticed the lace curtain had been drawn aside...the same lace curtain that resembled my grandmother's undergarments and the same lace curtain that only a few moments before had been covering the entire window. It was creepy and I fell rather ungracefully from the arms of my wiry suitor, into the rough scrub that surrounded the property. With a bruised bottom and a quick glance to make sure no one had seen my 'fall from grace' I scampered off before any angry conservatives decided to call the police. However (and this could start to read like the opening scene for a B-rate horror flick) I plan to go get better photos of this ghostly place tonight...well tonight would be stupid...let me rephrase: I plan to get photos this afternoon...while the sun is still shining.

Days when the sun shines, conservatives & flirty tulips

2005-04-28T09:54:00.000+01:00

Every day living in England makes me feel more...well...English. The thing I have most come to appreciate is the beauty of colour. Colour and days when the sun shines. Days spent gazing out of train windows, through the scratched glass tagged with childish, violent scribbles. Days when in all the monotony of wet station platforms, weary commuters and heavy grey clouds, the sun shines and England seems suddenly alive, green and blue. That moment on the train when my face is warmed by sunlight and I notice the trees and I notice the daffodils looking bright and cheerful, where once there was only damp rotting logs, forgotten rubbish and tangled winter weeds. Yesterday, strolling to the station in, I saw gardens boasting fat, red tulips. Tulips that seemed to draw your attention like the uneasy gaze of a voluptuous woman's cleavage, or lips smeared in too much gloss. Tulips that were brazon, wanton hussies smiling up shamelessly at me from beneath the many "Vote Conservative" posters. I almost laughed out loud at the perfect irony of the situation...but at that moment a grumpy looking man glared at me menacingly from his doorstep - threatening me with a chesty cough - as if I planned to pluck his precious tulips from their burlesque stage, or crush their lolling heads. I smiled at him, despite myself, he reminded me of the selfish giant from the story by Oscar Wilde - the sour giant that didn't want to share his garden with children. I had no desire to pluck his fucking tulips...just admire them, before they wilted from all the carbon-monoxide expunged by the passing 4X4s (insert deep breath here) that told me I was in a well-to-do suburban area. However, the old fart just eyed me up and down until I decided to be on my way. Well, I have come to the conclusion that most Conservatives fit into the 'selfish giant' category and are deeply possessive of their gardens (if they have them)....so Michael Howard, you will never get this half-Brit's vote...ever!!! Not until the day tulips pluck themselves from Conservative flower beds all over Britain and dance naked in the street. Sigh. Now this was a cathartic post. I feel better and now...I'm going to vote for the GREEN PARTY.

The Skulls of X-boyfriends

2005-04-26T22:22:00.000+01:00

Now I'm a Believer...Doo...Doo

2005-04-26T22:20:00.000+01:00

This beautiful succubus from WoW sussed me out pretty good. Shortly after this screenshot I was dead...having been seduced by her rather lovely...eyes^^

As you can see...my armour now makes me look like an American football player...but that shall soon be rectified....and one day I'll come back and visit this here sexy, blue-eyed bitch....and I will defeat her with sex-appeal alone!!!

Just to Prove My Point Again

2005-04-25T15:15:00.000+01:00