Delta Venus

The Beautiful and The Damned...

 There really is nothing more comforting than being told a bedtime story. For most of us the idea of pyjamas are long gone.. if we wear anything at all whilst we sleep it is a scraggy old t-shirt and pants, our teddybears are somewhere in our parents attics and we either drink our selves to sleep, shag our ourselves to sleep, bore ourselves to sleep .. or simply don't go to sleep at all. But every so often, and it normally comes along when I most need it, I find myself inside an enchanted little castle, invisible from the outside, on the hideous Mile End Road.

 This place is 40 Winks, the charming, mysterious and delectable home of the even more magical Mr Carter (A dandyesque, elfin creature, cheeky and chirpy.. tall and talented.. a story book special!) . A hidden gem, I have become quite acquainted with the place over the last couple of years. This house is my friend.

 Don't get me wrong. Bed time story night is all about escapism but escapism of the best kind. We aren't regressing to childhood, we aren't playing make-believe, we are in it. In a very unusual but a very adult world of entertainment, experience, adventure and journeys.

 I move on to The Beautiful and The Damned. It seems that for the last couple of evenings everyone I have met in this universe has been exactly that. Guests after being escorted to the un-dressing rooms then transform themselves into temptresses and proud princes, scantily clad or gloriously gowned in beautiful night-time attire. No body can be ugly at forty winks! It is part of the magic of the place.

 The more beautiful the guests become the more damned the get as they sip and slurp on lots and lots of very special, very unusual Hendrix gin (ok so maybe we still drink ourselves to sleep)! Gin in tea cups. Gin. Gin. My I love gin! Nibbling on smoked salmon and freshly cooked sausage roles the guests mingle joyfully sharing tales of their lives... why this is a story in itself. Flirtation happens, innuendo rolls but the most witty and wonderful sort. The flirtation of the mind.

 I can't tell you of all the excitement and magic of the place because it is held inside my heart. The mystery engulfs it and the outside world isn't quite capable of explaining the experience. We heard tales of the devil, the destruction, the death of the divine. Stories of the sea, sex and seduction. Music filled the air and silence struck. Sleep, sleep, sleep.

 I love this place. It is the home inside my head. Theatrical majesty becomes reality and I don't have to dream anymore.

 Leaving is always hard. Back to the “outside” but you have learnt something new. Felt something new. Whether you choose to remain beautiful, damned or both, 40 winks will always be there just behind the facade.

My new best friend...

This is my magical rainbow star pony that Alex bought for me for a £1 today. I have named her Asta (meaning star like; love) and she is amazing. She is causing me much joy. To me she is real. .. and vintage (1983) . I like the simple things in life. I never want to grow up. 

welcome to the world of toys...

Taking my little sister to Hamley's was one of the best bits of christmas so far. She had never been before and the reaction, for a serious child, was astounding. I barely et to see her and Hamley's was magical. She loved it... but still I am the bigger child!

Toys are magic let us get lost in a land of make believe. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE

                             

Mouth open amazement!

Evil Ice Queen

Look my balloon!

Hello my name is Dragon!

Christmas wishes!

Oh how lovely it is to be a child!

The witch

I HAVE walked a great while over the snow,

And I am not tall nor strong.

My clothes are wet, and my teeth are set,

And the way was hard and long.

I have wandered over the fruitful earth,

But I never came here before.

Oh, lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!

The cutting wind is a cruel foe.

I dare not stand in the blast.

My hands are stone, and my voice a groan,

And the worst of death is past.

I am but a little maiden still,

My little white feet are sore.

Oh, lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!

Her voice was the voice that women have,

Who plead for their heart's desire.

She came--she came--and the quivering flame

Sunk and died in the fire.

It never was lit again on my hearth

Since I hurried across the floor,

To lift her over the threshold, and let her in at the door.

by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE (1861 - 1907)

whitching hour

Out on the halloween weekend and something seriously went spooky.
It wasn't even halloween night (we missed that because of the weekends circumstances)
but witches/ faries/ ghosts or ghouls were defenately at work.

So friday night off we went to the warehouse party of the century... yes drunk, late and a bit tired but we arrived stood outside for a bit and talked to some friends, did a couple of photos for disorder magazine and entered. This is when things started to get spooked... I had a dangerous liason on the toilet came out and met wolfie who was running about like a mad thing, we kept bumping into people and I chatted to a film director. Then i decided to get some water we danced and finally headed for the cloakroom. This is the last thing we remeber before waking up at half one the next day. I mean serious serious serious memory wipe. We have no idea what happened! This is unusual... we didn't drink or take drugs but the next morning... NOTHING. And I mean nothing. There we were completely naked clothes folded up? Earings out... hair clips out home in bed. Me with a massive gash on my back and the biggest bump on my head purseless and short of 100 pounds. Alex with a broken shoe ... pursless, cardless, IDless and phoneless... Our clothes... folded up but covered in mud? Nothing no memory nothing.

We both veel incredibly uneasy and KNOW something happened??? But what? Magic?
Anyway we then walked for 6 hours from East London to sutton.. to be rescued by out parents/
FAIL!!

nymph

Magical water worker
Sex charger
Water flowing
Stone carved, stone cracking
Damaged goods
Dancing, swaying, mystic, singing
Ancient ruin
Priceless precious, sacred serephn
Breastless beauty, battered body.

Danger calling
Throbbig fountain
Limbless lines, frustration forms
Forceless force, shrine of sins.
Bloodless breatg
Col hard palour
Deep delusions, historic amour.

She who knows more years than man
Earths craetion, trancendent crown...
Twining round the men she holds
Nothing more than lovers old
Stark hard light hits her hard
No more bleeding, veinless aims.

Eyes who watch don't understand this is a princess, goddess crowned...
One of three a middle ground
Triad, trinity, triplets then
Seperate from us mortal men
What she is is free from flam.

Carved by some long gone hand
There remains element in sand.
A grain of wonder a wasted world
Wistful glance at whisperng land.

What we know is nothing as of yet
This monument a mark of knowledge, hopes and dreams.

Evermore

Yesterday I was lucky enough to go and see the production of Evermore ( the imaginary life of Edgar Allen Poe) by the canadian Catalyst theatre company. A gothic musical it played on te morbid the strange and the twisted.
It focused on doom and death... how we are intrinsically born a character a person whom perhaps we cannot escape from... are we condemmed to our disposition?
Arewe condemmed to our own thoughts trapped in a world that is just as unescapable as a nightmare ..becaue maybe life is a nightmare?
Does it even matter because death is always the end,an inevitable truth.. whether we die of our family codition, crippling mental illness, passion, or disease is death
release that only toments the living and is just the end of a dream for the dead?

midsummer

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding, but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend;
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearnéd luck,
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long:
Else the Puck a liar call.
So good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.
(puck A midsummer night's dream)

I wonder what tonight has in store.. mischief and magic...