Highland rape

Alexander McQuenn 1995 collection... second show = groundbreaking!
But i can't find any pictures?
Help would be appreciated .. then I will post!
xxx

Christmas past

A note on christmas..
It is gone and over yet the shops still play the festive tunes. They don't make me feel happy any more . Christmas is over. Not that it really felt like it ever began.
I don't remeber a happy christmas. Not really. (I must stop writing in these short sentences but it is the way it feels right.) Of course I remember a happy christmas when i was tiny but then Christmas was nothing to do with me. I didn't have complicated in my life, there wasn't confusion, convultion, contradiction.
I like the lights leading up to christmas and I like the feeling of chritmas in the air. I like being with people I love at christmas but i seem to love the wrong people and I'm just not one of those family girls. Apparently I can't fit in. Well I'm never going to if you keep telling me... it isn't my fault I am different from you. I just feel so RESTLESS. And i do bad things.. and I think bad things... and the only reason I can think of for doing then is to emphasise how uncomfortable I feel. To emphasise how being at home or what should be my home is the wrong thing and living my life for me is the right. I am essentially selfish but I still care about people. But what exactly is wrong with being myself.
The problem isn't that I don;t get on with my family.. well I don't. But I do! You see its just when I am living with them. I am so sure of myself and they can take everything out on me. Because I am that one person who isn't quite a child any more. Who can take it? I suppose.
I don;t really care about presents anymore... I mean i need the things i need and I love pretty things but they don;t make me happy when i feel so restless.
I don't believe in christianity.. so I can't sit there and celebrate Jesus' birthday.. even though i think its a lovely thing. I can't stand religion. I get frustrated at the views and the beleifs and the ridiculous hope.
I hate christmas dinner... I hate beign fed up.. I hate the putting on weight that seems to be so expected.. I think everyone ese thinks there is something wrong wiht being thin. Yes there is. But not if its the way you are supposed to be!
I love my family.. I really do. just happy to be back where I want to be. Where I can be an adult.. or behave like a child without anyone worrying. Happy to be back. And so so so happy for the new year.
xxx

down the rabbit hole..

If I had a world of my own everything would be nonsense...
Nothing would be as it is because everything would be as it wasn't
What it was it wouldn't be and counterwise...
Don't you see?
....



If there was only one role in the whole wide worl that I could play it would be Alice.. because I just am. Wonderland isn't just a book it can be your whole imagination and Alice is everything I would want to be. It is a sad state of affairs but I am so terribly jelous of people in films... or at least films I want to be in and so terribly critical because in my mind I could do it so much better. Not that theres anything wrong with them.. just I want to be there. The same goes for thatre. Its just becuase character is in my sould.

.. I sitill enjoy it.. March here we come..Tim Burton Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter ..what could be better..we will see about Alice!

desperately wanted...

becuase it's just tooo pink...







American Apparel
xxx

why not try it all if you only remember it once...

Fattened up
Shored up
Shoved up
my body decompensates
my body flies apart


no way to reach out
beyond the reaching out I've already done
you will always have a piece of me
because you held my life in your hands
those brutal hands

this will end me
I thought it was silent
till it went silent



how have you inspired this pain?
I've never understood
what it is I'm not supposed to feel
like a bird on the wing in a swollen sky
my mind is torn by lightning
as it flies form the thunder behind

Hatch opens
Stark light
and Nothing
Nothing see Nothing

What am I like?
the child of negation
out of one torture chamber into another
a vile succession of errors without remission
every step of the way I've fallen
Despair propels me to suicide
Anguish for which doctors can find no cure
Nor care to understand


I hope you never understand

Because I like you
I like you
I like you

still black water
as deep as forever
as cold as the sky
as still as my heart when your voice is gone
I shall freeze in hell
of course I love you
you saved my life
I wish you hadn't
I wish you hadn't
I wish you'd left me alone

a black and white film of yes or no yes or no yes or no yes or no yes or no yes or no
I've always loved you
even when I hated you

What am I like?
just like my father
oh no oh no oh no

Hatch opens
Stark light
the rupture begins

I don't know where to look anymore
Tired of crowd searching
Telepathy
and hope
Watch the stars
predict the past
and change the world with a silver eclipse
the only thing that's permanent is destruction
we're all going to disappear
trying to leave a mark more permanent that myself

I've not killed myself before so don't look for precedents
What came before was just the beginning
a cyclical fear
that's not the moon it's the earth
A revolution

Dear God, dear God, what shall I do?

All I know
is snow
and black despair
Nowhere left to turn
an ineffectual mortal spasm
the only alternative to murder
Please don't cut me up to find out how I died
I'll tell you how I died
One hundred Lofepramine, forty five Zopiclone, twenty five Temazepam, and twenty Melleril
Everything I had
Swallowed
Slit
Hung
It is done

behold the Eunuch
of castrated thought
skull
unwound
the capture
the rapture
the rupture
of a soula solo symphony
warm darkness
which soaks my eyes
I know no sin

this is the sickness of becoming great
the vital need for which I would die

to be loved
I'm dying for one who doesn't care
I'm dying for one who doesn't know
you're breaking me
Speak
Speak
Speak
ten yard ring of failure
look away from me
My final stand
No one speaks
Validate me
Witness me
See me
Love me
my final submission
my final defeat
the chicken's still dancing
the chicken won't stop
I think that you think of me
the way I'd have you think of me

the final period
the final full stop
look after your mum now
look after your mum
Black snow falls
in death you hold me
never free
I have no desire for death
no suicide ever had
watch me vanish
watch me
vanish
watch me
watch me
watch

It is myself I have never met, whose face is pasted on the underside of my mind

please open the curtains

kitsch

Contradiction

CANCER

Your element: Water

Your ruling planets: The Moon

Symbol: The Crab

Your stone: Moonstone

Life Pursuit: Constant reassurance and intimacy

Vibration: Moody

Cancer's Secret Desire: To feel safe (emotionally, spiritually, romantically and financially)




Description:
Those born under the sign of Cancer, ruled by the mysterious Moon, are one of the zodiac's enigmas. It is fair to say that most Cancers are a bundle of contradictions. Compassionate and caring with friends, family and lovers, yet they can cut to the bone with their jealous remarks and ever-changing moods. Endearingly eccentric on one hand, and on the other, insecure about how others see them. Like their astrological symbol - the Crab - Cancers can appear hard and insensitive on the outside. However, for those of us who know and love a "Moon Child", we understand that deep below lies a softness and sensitivity that makes them so very special...

Just as the Moon goes through many changes as it moves from its new to full phases, Cancers too go through many new and full phases of experience. Life doesn't stand still for this sign, even if they remain in one place, because they live so much in their internal oceans of emotions. Their link with the Moon often makes it impossible for them to operate on an even keel from day to day. Up and down like the proverbial yo-yo, most Cancerians feel one way one minute, then sometimes totally different the next. But this characteristic is part of their charm.

Love and romance matter more than anything else to this sign (but this occasionally shares first place with having lots of money in the bank). No other sign romances better, equally though, no sign takes it so badly when romance turns sour either. But with their changeable natures Cancerians are fascinating, mysterious, stimulating and extremely alluring. This sign is one of the most magic of all and once their magic has reached you, they are the most beguiling companions. After all, isn't the Moon the most talked about and romantic galactic identity?

Maybe... but I care most about success

No edits

Crossed stars merge into madenning rays of violet whispers.
It is out there. I think you found it... for now.
Sheer beauty;
IMPERFECT perfection; dreaming time.
Is it just a feeling?
What reality can I create or is it planned?
Fear of pain but striving for danger.
Is my blood destruction or is it just constant need to feel alive?
Emotional ecstasy; just feeling anything.
NOT HAPPINESS but maybe something better
Something only I have found or few care to find anyway.
Hearts bleed but isn;t it just expereice. Everything dies in the end.
I'm not scared; that's a contradiction...
Longing to hold on to what I have got but needing or feeling to find so much more.
Selfish pushing, pushing time and space.
Risk. Heart. Beat. Control. Stop
But I can't!
Too Beautiful
Pure Euphoria
Dancing Time

Angel

stop fast fashion

"If you ask me what I think people should be getting next season. I'll tell you what I'd like them to buy—nothing. I'd like people to stop buying and buying and buying...
There's this idea that somehow you've got to keep changing things, and as often as possible. Maybe if people just decided not to buy anything for a while, they'd get a chance to think about what they wanted; what they really liked."
Vivienne Westwood

THINK

Transience

the state or quality of passing with time or being ephemeral or fleeting
an impermanence that suggests the inevitability of ending or dying

On Transience
By Sigmund Freud

Not long ago I went on a summer walk through a smiling countryside in the company of a taciturn friend and of a young but already famous poet. The poet admired the beauty of the scene around us but felt no joy in it. He was disturbed by the thought that all this beauty was fated to extinction, that it would vanish when winter came, like all human beauty and all the beauty and splendour that men have created or may create. All that he would otherwise have loved and admired seemed to him to be shorn of its worth by the transience which was its doom.

The proneness to decay of all that is beautiful and perfect can, as we know, give rise to two different impulses in the mind. The one leads to the aching despondency felt by the young poet, while the other leads to rebellion against the fact asserted. No! it is impossible that all this loveliness of Nature and Art, of the world of our sensations and of the world outside, will really fade away into nothing. It would be too senseless and too presumptuous to believe it. Somehow or other this loveliness must be able to persist and to escape all the powers of destruction.

But this demand for immortality is a product of our wishes too unmistakable to lay claim to reality: what is painful may none the less be true. I could not see my way to dispute the transience of all things, nor could I insist upon an exception in favour of what is beautiful and perfect. But I did dispute the pessimistic poet’s view that the transience of what is beautiful involves any loss in its worth.

On the contrary, an increase! Transience value is scarcity value in time. Limitation in the possibility of an enjoyment raises the value of the enjoyment. It was incomprehensible, I declared, that the thought of the transience of beauty should interfere with our joy in it. As regards the beauty of Nature, each time it is destroyed by winter it comes again next year, so that in relation to the length of our lives it can in fact be regarded as eternal. The beauty of the human form and face vanish for ever in the course of our own lives, but their evanescence only lends them a fresh charm. A flower that blossoms only for a single night does not seem to us on that account less lovely. Nor can I understand any better why the beauty and perfection of a work of art or of an intellectual achievement should lose its worth because of its temporal limitation. A time may indeed come when the pictures and statues which we admire to-day will crumble to dust, or a race of men may follow us who no longer understand the works of our poets and thinkers, or a geological epoch may even arrive when all animate life upon the earth ceases; but since the value of all this beauty and perfection is determined only by its significance for our own emotional lives, it has no need to survive us and is therefore independent of absolute duration.

These considerations appeared to me incontestable; but I noticed that I had made no impression either upon the poet or upon my friend. My failure led me to infer that some powerful emotional factor was at work which was disturbing their judgement, and I believed later that I had discovered what it was. What spoilt their enjoyment of beauty must have been a revolt in their minds against mourning. The idea that all this beauty was transient was giving these two sensitive minds a foretaste of mourning over its decease; and, since the mind instinctively recoils from anything that is painful, they felt their enjoyment of beauty interfered with by thoughts of its transience.

Mourning over the loss of something that we have loved or admired seems so natural to the layman that he regards it as self-evident. But to psychologists mourning is a great riddle, one of those phenomena which cannot themselves be explained but to which other obscurities can be traced back. We possess, as it seems, a certain amount of capacity for love—what we call libido—which in the earliest stages of development is directed towards our own ego. Later, though still at a very early time, this libido is diverted from the ego on to objects, which are thus in a sense taken into our ego. If the objects are destroyed or if they are lost to us, our capacity for love (our libido) is once more liberated; and it can then either take other objects instead or can temporarily return to the ego. But why it is that this detachment of libido from its objects should be such a painful process is a mystery to us and we have not hitherto been able to frame any hypothesis to account for it. We only see that libido clings to its objects and will not renounce those that are lost even when a substitute lies ready to hand. Such then is mourning.

My conversation with the poet took place in the summer before the war. A year later the war broke out and robbed the world of its beauties. It destroyed not only the beauty of the countrysides through which it passed and the works of art which it met with on its path but it also shattered our pride in the achievements of our civilization, our admiration for many philosophers and artists and our hopes of a final triumph over the differences between nations and races. It tarnished the lofty impartiality of our science, it revealed our instincts in all their nakedness and let loose the evil spirits within us which we thought had been tamed for ever by centuries of continuous education by the noblest minds. It made our country small again and made the rest of the world far remote. It robbed us of very much that we had loved, and showed us how ephemeral were many things that we had regarded as changeless.

We cannot be surprised that our libido, thus bereft of so many of its objects, has clung with all the greater intensity to what is left to us, that our love of our country, our affection for those nearest us and our pride in what is common to us have suddenly grown stronger. But have those other possessions, which we have now lost, really ceased to have any worth for us because they have proved so perishable and so unresistant? To many of us this seems to be so, but once more wrongly, in my view. I believe that those who think thus, and seem ready to make a permanent renunciation because what was precious has proved not to be lasting, are simply in a state of mourning for what is Lost. Mourning, as we know, however painful it may be comes to a spontaneous end. When it has renounced everything that has been lost, then it has consumed itself, and our libido is once more free (in so far as we are still young and active) to replace the lost objects by fresh ones equally or still more precious. It is to be hoped that the same will be true of the losses caused by this war. When once the mourning is over, it will be found that our high opinion of the riches of civilization has lost nothing from our discovery of their fragility. We shall build up again all that war has destroyed, and perhaps on firmer ground and more lastingly than before.

A Harlot's progress...

Work it out for yourself...

an old woman praises her beauty and suggests a profitable occupation...

a mistress with two lovers...

a common whore on the point of being arrested...

prison...

disease...

peace... aged 23.
William Hogarth

a vunerable partnership

bwautiful but totally twisted...

Flow

I don't know just where I'm going
But I'm gonna try for the kingdom, if I can
'Cause it makes me feel like I'm a man
When I put a spike into my vein
And I'll tell ya, things aren't quite the same
When I'm rushing on my run
And I feel just like Jesus' son
And I guess that I just don't know
And I guess that I just don't know

I have made the big decision
I'm gonna try to nullify my life
'Cause when the blood begins to flow
When it shoots up the dropper's neck
When I'm closing in on death
And you can't help me not, you guys
And all you sweet girls with all your sweet talk
You can all go take a walk
And I guess that I just don't know
And I guess that I just don't know

I wish that I was born a thousand years ago
I wish that I'd sail the darkened seas
On a great big clipper ship
Going from this land here to that
In a sailor's suit and cap
Away from the big city
Where a man can not be free
Of all of the evils of this town
And of himself, and those around
Oh, and I guess that I just don't know
Oh, and I guess that I just don't know

Heroin, be the death of me
Heroin, it's my wife and it's my life
Because a mainer to my vein
Leads to a center in my head
And then I'm better off than dead
Because when the smack begins to flow
I really don't care anymore
About all the Jim-Jim's in this town
And all the politicians makin' busy sounds
And everybody puttin' everybody else down
And all the dead bodies piled up in mounds

'Cause when the smack begins to flow
Then I really don't care anymore
Ah, when the heroin is in my blood
And that blood is in my head
Then thank God that I'm as good as dead
Then thank your God that I'm not aware
And thank God that I just don't care
And I guess I just don't know
And I guess I just don't know

I couldn't bring myself to put up Pavarotti!..

I think this song is a victim of its brilliance. There's been too many awful collaborations and too many connotations made... but it is beautiful.

youth perfection...

pure beauty

Perfect nonsense...

Is ir the same thing with you?
(pause)... Then you should talk!
Talk like time, curioser and curioser.
Mix you words and look and sing.

It's beautiful. It's wretched.

STOP ALICE STOP
Two days more and the fury will come
...
"OH" I see!
It's that man he talks in riddles.
You know it just isn't the same anymore...
It's well.... It's you!

Feeling alive

I absolutely love living here, I feel incredibly lucky. I know I am so so so lucky.
I have london all around me and it just makes me feel alive. Walking out on to Brick Lane makes me feel like I can breathe again. It is exciting and for once I think I belong. I love the people. The things people do. I just like looking at evverything. Kittens, dancing ladies, records and sequins. I don't feel like I am in the naughties I feel like I can do what I want and I don't care what people think. Anyway I have permission to be wierd.
I love how I am living. I can't bear the thought of going back to how it was. I think I will die sometimes but I know this is what will make me survive.
No sleep, Stay in bed, Sunday morning, Harmonicas, Tower Bridge, Chocolate and Cream, Waves, Lights, Red phone boxes, Knives and Pizza. I don't know... I am confused about today. I am scared incase it all goes wrong. I think we established I destroy everything. But I know I can't stop smiling :)

the story of my life...

back to this

this song defined my life for a very long time...

Love
I'm sorry
xxx

Adam and Eve were naked in the garden of eden.. they only put on clothes after they'd sinned...

The Beautiful Betty Page




"I don't know what they mean by an icon. I never thought of myself as being that. It seems strange to me. I was just modeling, thinking of as many different poses as possible."

"Sex is a part of love. You shouldn't go around doing it unless you are in love.."

Circles

Truth is Beauty
Beauty is Truth
Truth is not Beauty
Beauty is not Truth
Your Beauty is Truthful
Your Truth is Beautiful
Your Beauty is not Truthful
Your Truth is not Beautiful

Pete makes BABYSHAMBLES and me go crazy!

I just can't get enough! I just can't get enough!
Last night was one of the best nights of my life...easy. Babyshambles at smash and grab, PROUD was immense! I couldn;t really beleive my luck at just turning up and getting in for £8!! The venue is always amazing, the DJ's were hot stuff, the heat high, all bands were pretty good bt noting beats the atmosphere that Pete made. It was carnage. The crowd was mental. Death was imminent. It was EPIC!

The music was beautiful.
The people was beautiful.
I had glitter everywhere.
Ahhh i just don't know what to say!



Playlist:
'Fireman'
'Delivery'
'Beg, Steal Or Borrow'
'The BNP Blues'
Untitled new song
'I Wish'
'Billie Jean'
'West End Girls'
Untitled new song
'Baddie's Boogie'
'Unstookietitled'
Untitled new song
'Killamangiro'
Untitled new song
'Time For Heroes'
'Fuck Forever'

The evolution of a mushroom and pen lid...

Everything has to start somewhere... I atarted with a mushroom and a pen lid...

Manifesto... a 20 minute brainstorm and it's all about me...

Upon being asked to come up with a manifesto I found myself, as per usual, flooded with thoughts. They aren't helpful to society. Don;t really apply to anybody else. Certainly aren;t funny. Jus tan outburst of emotion. Some of them probably hugely contradict each other and other most certainly wrong. But i think this is what I beleieve. The first one... as pointed out by "reader" is most probably wrong.. because i clearly know what I think. my problem being this is constantly changing...

I don't know who I am. Try everything once.
Forget your preconceptions. Believe in Beauty.Forget reality and believe in nonsense. Hope hurts when it isn't truthful. Trust your eyes. We all have an energy, when we die it goes to a white space. It sounds liek nothing else. I have been there. Your fantasy can be your reality you just have to go there. It's all about image. Beauty is truth, truth is beauty. Fact. I don't think any feeling is the same, the same kind of sadness never happens twice. I just like feeling everything even if it is bad. Lonliness is nothing about beign surrounded by people. How do we know our emotions feel the same as other peoples? I don't think lust is a bad thing, it is essentially love for beauty and ecstasy. Love can be lust. Sometimes it is good to pretend you don;t think; it gives you head a break. Dreams are reality. Understading yourself is about accepting that you are constantly changing and so therefore you will never understand yourself. Sex isn't bad, people just make you feel bad because of what they have been told. Self destruction is only self destruction in other peoples opinions, I hate myself for it sometimes, but I think it is just a different way of living. Thinking is confusing but unavoidable. Don't condemn yourself to be a certain way. It's all about experiences. I can't do normal conversation. I don;t aim to shock. Do we fall in love becasue we think we have to? Being who you want to be isn't that easy. Artistic intelligence is completley different to academic intelligence. Both are hard to live with. Failing is not an option unless it is deliberate. Strugglnig to feel liek you fit in just makes it feel worse- the people aren't worth it.Why do I try and make myself feel worse? Creating an image is about finding out who you are. Honesty offends people. never do nothing. Don;t be defined by any stereotypeor anything people have told you about yorself. God is not a man in the sky, spirit is energy, the universe has power. Making people worry about me is a way of connecting. Sometimes you have to emotionally rip each other apart. Destruction is about physicallising emotion. Life is experience is not about longitivity. I don't want to be perfect. Learn to have coping mechanisms that don't destroy relationships. Dance in your head forever. Be magical. Glitter. Doe sbeleiveing I am not entirely from here make me crazy? The world is essentially good becasue everything happens for a reason. Fate and Destiny. Achieve. Freedom, Truth, Beauty and Love. Create. I DON'T THINK THERE IS ANYTHING I WOULDN'T DO... IT SCARES ME!

The list goes on forever... I am essentially selfish I think... I don;t think any of these help the world. But htey were my 20 minutes.

I still want to be a pre-raphaelite...but romanticism just isn't cool anymore!

These paintings still embodies everything fantasy is or could be... open up the whole movement and the possibilities are STILL endless. Beaty isn't dead...

Ophelia Sir John Everett Millais (she has my name and I tried to be her for a very long time...i was jelous of a painting but she was teh super model of the time "lizzie")
but they just don't teach you to paint anymore...
Mermaids Waterhouse ... this exhibition actually made me stand there and cry..they are more beautiful than you can every imagine in being. (In date, techinically not a pre-raphaelite... but at heart he was all there)

Waterhouse

Waterhouse

Waterhouse

Waterhouse

Waterhouse

Rossetti
Maybe it's just magic and my obsession with fairytales but i love these paintings. I think it is a case of defining identity through fantasy... these images can still be used somehow. We aren't classical artists but all ideas start somwhere... and mine are often here.

The notion of celebrity...

It's all about presenting an image. Portraying yourself how you want to. Striking a pose. It's all about illusion...
I don't think this means the illusion is fake.. it's your creation and therefore still part of you. You can be creating a myth, playing someone else... but you are always in there. In a way creating an illusion is taking yourself out of yourself.. you are you. No one ultmately knows who you are... but at least your showing something. Its beautiful and its obsession.

From transylvania...

It's about time I watched this film again...




anticipation..
xxx

Beaituful person of the day...

Robert Maplethorpe


Self Portrait 1980


Self Portait 1977


Self portrait 1977

Pop Life... in a MATERIAL Tate...

I am not quite sure where to start with my opinion on the curretn exhibition Pop Life: In a material world at the Tate moodern. It was well curated, exciting, visceral, sensual, packed with "well known" popular art. Any memeber of the public could visit this exhibition and know something about the work on show... Tracy Emin, Jeff Koons, Andy Warhol, Damien Hirst..well known, highly succesful artists.. But perhaps it was an amateur exhibition?
Upon walking in to the exhibition you are immediately greeted with a massive self portrait of Andy Warhol. Fair enough..he is the greatest EVER Pop Artist. In the same room a Jeff Koons bunny and a Takashi Murakami sculpture... a typical manga girl.. highly sexual..but at least slightly original. The next couple of rooms were then dedicated to Andy Warhol. I'm not complaining. I will forever be in awe of his magnitude. His innovation and his social life. A most interesting piece was a page from his book where he described himself as having "social disease"!!!... a thirst for the celebrity, a pushing of identity,a desire not to miss out on fame and the famous. His whole career was built around this...climbing the social ladder. His art in a way was pushing himself.
At this point, I felt the exhibition was quite interesting, but not as good as the Hayward's Andy Warhol exhibition earlier that year. I felt it was a bit of a copy until i walked into the next room. We have all heard about the Brooke fiasco!! A photograoh of a higly made up ten year old Brooke shields was hung in the exhibition pushing the idea of what it was to live in modern America. This caused huge hype and contreversy...not a ten year old. But coem on... it wasn't like this was an exhibition about pedophilia... it;s not liek this picture hasn;t been exhibited before... it's not like Brooke Shields cares. But yes.. it has been removed...but the information on the wall hasn't changed. It really is quite amusing to be stadning there reading about a portrait of a boyish figured ten year old whilst staring at a twenty something women clad in gold bikini. Get over it? was this a publicity stunt or was this a publicity stunt!
Ok next room...strictly for the over 18's!!! Being some what young looking.. of course.. I was questioned. Not only humiliating but it seemed a bit of a rip off seing as they were chargin children to go in and they couldn't see half the exhibition. I walked in. Looked around. Took some notes and walked out. Did a massive blown up photograph of Jeff Koons wifes arse hole promote any reaction in me... No. I;ve seen it all before. It's just pornography. Do I care what his Penis looks like? No. Fair enough. it may get him excited looking at a plasticy statue of him and his wife "doing it" but it's just boring. Whats it meant to do? Shock us. The exhibition continued like this...
A roon of Cosey Fanni Tutti...jsut a collection of top shelf magazines. Ok ..fair enough... what defines art? .. but I paid eleven pounds to get in here and she wasn'e even pretty.
A sex tape that an artist sold for millions. Her and a collector..having slow sex. I wasn't going to sit there for an hour and watch it...was anyone? At least not there.
Next room a life size, realistic impalyed horse. Ok at last. Something new..and yes this actually was disturbing, shocking. It just made me laugh that this was meant to be the boring bit. Tracy Emin and Damien Hirst were beautiful in comparison to some of the work I had seen. I must admit. Damien Hirst's preserved calf is absolutely fantastic. it looks so peacful, so ethreal... It is like its title and IDOL. His twins however, did some what take the piss. A live instalation of twins sitting in front of some dots. It this case I had Jon and Peter. I lively couple of old men...who clearly had no interest in waht they were doing. I found it fasinating that they were sitting there saying the lieks of " we just get paid loads"..."it's a load of bullshit really"..well yes I would agree it is!

..i will read this later and edit.. i jsut have no time now!!

Lost in Wonderland...

Wake up...wake up...wake up Alice x

Amazing people...

I don't know why ... maybe it's just circumstance.. too many awkwards situations, too many emotional battles, too much honesty..BUT there's a boy I know and I literally think he is AMAZING. Not for any particular reason, not because I love him (like that..even though I thought I did for a very long time) but just because I can truly be my self with him and I think he can be himself with me too.. or only me..that's what he says. I can tell him everything..he tells me everything about the world.. he makes me realie stuff I never knew about myself. He fixes eveything. He is wonderful but just for being him!
I told you I loved you I have told you I hate you... you have made me cry so many times... but also made me laugh, you made me go completely insane...
I think you are probably my best friend and that is just it.
You know who you are
Thank you

just a note to myself really... but something has to work

you are never ever ever ever doing this again!!!!

Take me to Paris...?

I can't help these cravings for a bit of Europe I get so often. I LOVE London... and culturally... it has everything...BUT it doesn't have that romanticism, that feeling!
There definately is something about that place. The language. The image. The smells..the shabiness...
When I go to Paris I notice everything..and I love it. I love the rubbish, the french graffiti, the reflections, the people. It is a place that has attracted artists for centuries.. inspired Kings and Queens. Paris is eternally fashionable and incredibly chic.
A bohemia... in my mind it represents everything I want from life.. truth, beauty, freedom and above all things love!

I shall always have a love affair with Vivienne Westwood..

"The only reaon I'm fashionable is to destroy the word "conformity". Nothings interesting to me unless it's got that element. " Vivienne Westwood










" The only reaon I'm fashionable is to destroy the word "conformity". Nothings interesting to me unless it's got that element. " Vivienne Westwood

I am pretty sure this lady made me partly who I am... she made me want to do fashion...then i grew up and realised "doing" fashion wasn't what it was about...
..it was beign yourself and being creative. Now I want to be creative!

"You have a much better life if you wear impressive clothes!" Vivienne Westwood

for grace...love you make me laugh!!!

Red Shoes

Lermontov: When we first met ... you asked me a question to which I gave a stupid answer, you asked me whether I wanted to live and I said "Yes". Actually, Miss Page, I want more, much more. I want to create, to make something big out of something little – to make a great dancer out of you. But first, I must ask you the same question, what do you want from life? To live?

Vicky: To dance.


A young woman sees a pair of red shoes in a shop window which are then offered to her by the demonic shoemaker. She puts them on and begins to dance with her lover. They go to a carnival, where she cannot help but to forget about the boyfriend and she dances with every man she comes across. Her boyfriend is carried away and nothing is left of him but his image on a piece of plastic which she brutally tramples.
She attempts to return home to her mother, but the red shoes, controlled by the shoemaker, keep her dancing. She falls into the netherworld of the demimonde where she dances with a piece of newspaper which turns briefly into her one true love. She is haunted by grotesque creatures, including the shoemaker,who play with her as if a toy before abruptly disappearing, and leaving her exhausted and alone. No matter where she runs, the shoes refuse to stop dancing and she just can't stop.
Near death from exhaustion, clothed in rags, she finds herself in front of a church where a funeral is in progress. The priest offers to help her. She motions to him to remove the shoes, and as he does so her heart filles with rays of sunshine and she dies.





Sorrow will pass, believe me. Life is so unimportant. And from now onwards, you will dance like nobody ever before.

Neon Life A Portrait

£60,000 pounds and 15 questions... Tracy Emin will "write" your portrait..pink neon forever.

1. Do you believe in God? I believe in a sort of God. I think there has to be a reason. I beleive in fate and destiny. Not GOD... I believe in the universe.

2. How old are you? I am 18

3. Do you still look at yourself the same way in the mirror? The way i look at myself in the mirror or in my head changes constantly.

4.Does any colour make you feel violently sick? No real colour makes me feel sick...there is a colour in my head that makes me go dizzy. It's not real.

5. Capital or full flow? I don;t kno hat this means...someone care to enlighten me...otherise I will look it up.

6. Who is you favourite poet? William Blake

7. How would you like to die? Destruction or survival

8.Passion, Romance or Hard Core Sex? Passion Romance and Sex should be one and all.

9. Who was the greatest love of your life? I know who is or was the greatest love of my life. He never knew nor did I... I don't love them anymore.

10.Is the neon for them? No

11. Are you quiet or loud when you make love? I am very very loud when I "make love".

12. If you could be anywhere right now here would you be? Here...this is where I chose to be (Frieze)

13. How would you rate your sense of humour? I can't rate my sense of humour. I like laughing but i think I am too serious.

14.Antique or contemporary? Fireplace or radiator? Antique not contemporary... Fireplace and radiator.

15. How often do you get homesick? I don't know how often i get homesick. I get mum sick...not homesick. I miss my bedroom. BUT home isn't always home.

whats my portrait?

I just like feeling anything...

A nightmare is an unpleasant dream. Nightmares cause a strong unpleasant emotional response from the sleeper, typically fear or horror. The dream may contain a situation of extreme danger, or sensations of pain, bad events, falling, drowning, being raped, becoming disabled, losing loved ones, encountering unpleasant creatures or beings, being murdered, caught, attacked, being chased, eaten, squashed, stuck or burned, becoming physical causes such as a high fever or being face-down on a pillow during sleep, or psychological ones such as psychological trauma or stress in the sleeper's life, or can have no apparent cause. If a person has experienced a psychologically traumatic situation in life—for example, a person who may have been captured and tortured—the experience may come back to haunt them in their nightmares. Sleepers may waken in a state of distress and be unable to get back to sleep for some time.