Past, present, future?

I just want to get away from everything.
I am going to crawl in to a box and never get out.
I AM in a box and there is no way out.
Humanity is fucked up.

I used to think I was stronger than this.
I was stronger than this.
I used to think there was a reason why I was obliged to be stronger than this.
That it was right to carry on?
I just don't think there is any point in it anymore.
Whats the point in being strong and moving on, in putting the shit behind you, in fighting, in not letting it get to you - because it doesn't get better.
We are never going to win against this thing called "life".
I don't know why I would keep on going apart from to survive. To live an existence.
I don't want to exist. Exist for what? For the shit and the dirt. Just to be another fucked up human being in a
crumbling, futile world.
Not for this.

I can't get away from myself.
I can't get away from everyone else.
I don't want to be full of this hate.
And so so so so so tired of waiting for it to STOP.

My memory is torturing me.
The present is tiring.
The future is not going to be any better.

Seperation

I think you know I mean it.
Because everything changes now.
The end of OUR time.
Never alone again.
No endless spaces.
Our past all dried up and cut and tied ends together.
That world before was our universe - we chose to step in or step out but it was always there.
Doesn't exist anymore!
Black holes are your fascination
But the space up their is disappearing faster than you can imagine.
No more living in the stars or being star dust.
I'm optimistic.
I like this newness.
But I am not stupid like you.
Spend too much time thinking and I know this is the end.
It didn't have to be but decisions are only human to get wrong.
You chose to separate you world.
Don't belong anymore.
It is fear. Fear that haunts us.
Gone. No more.
I didn't think it would happen like this.
the breaking of wishes makes life str o n ger.
All I can say
It seems to be fate
No longer combined.
Evermore.

Nicholas Lastiola

A piece that I found particularly connected to at the Goldsmith's MA Fine Art show.

A Glimpse

Viewed as an installation it really was quite beautiful. Art that makes you feel. Thats what I get. Art that makes you feel the subtleties

Tuesday's thoughts whilst waiting

I think you are going to irritate me for the rest of my life. If you stopped maybe I could stop regretting everything to do with you. I understand the irrational behaviour - I am hardly rational myself - but you seem to have no understanding of an end. Everything ends. Or at least changes. There has to be a point when you say no more. Your unintelligence confuses me. Your childishness makes me angry. Only because I know you have the capability of being more than that. Everyone does. Very little "behaviour" makes me angry to a point where I don't understand but your blindness is too hard for me to comprehend. The frustration is frustrating. It has been going on like this for months. You don't change. How can you not change? It isn't funny or a game - how can you refuse your control? Are you really planning on spending your life like this? Because quite frankly it is ridiculous.

                                                                                                                                                                         


Grey floor.
Are they doing everything they can to make me feel uncomfortable?
Waiting games.
Waiting rooms.
I am staring in to space trying to force a source of inspiration.
Smily girl.
Voice doesn't match the face.
Your job must be such a drone.
I wish I wasn't so scared of doctors.
Maybe I would tell them how I feel.
Sometimes I come close.
But I know it's text book.
What is that fake tree doing in the corner?
Honestly - who makes decisions like this?
I just want to get out of here.
I don't care about the chair.
Cloud music isn't helping.
Not that I feel particularly strongly against it.
It is just hilarious that it is such an obvious but failed institutional choice to create a "pleasant" environment.
My life is my own.
The setting annoys me.
Obviously I am having an annoyed day.
Or just pretending to.
At the end of the day I am the one using the service.
It's just waiting to step out into the real world again.
Not that the street is any more real.
But the sky is.

                                                                                                                                                                      


Sometimes I feel like I am the only person in the world that feels right.
Sometimes I feel like I am the only person in the world that feels wrong.
In reality this doesn't matter. Neither is true.
What ever a feeling is it is transient. We will never know what it means.
What it means to feel.

                                                                                                                                                                      


God it must be so awful for you sitting here with your Bible surrounded by all us degenerate sex crazed scum. It just intrigues me. I assume people like you wouldn't be here. Now I want to know why.

On being twenty

Yesterday I turned twenty.
Twenty years of life.
Breathing this air.
I don't know how I feel.
I didn't want to be twenty.
It terrified me.
I panicked and broke down the day before.
I don't really know why.
Probably because my 19th birthday was the best day of my life.
Because twenty isn't a teenager anymore.
Because life goes so fast.
Because everything changes.
Everything is transient.
But this isn't a bad thing.
It is just fear.
I remember everything about the last ten years of my life so clearly and sometimes I don't feel like I have changed at all. I know I have. But i am still that girl.
I still feel stuck like that sometimes.
I hated being a teenager.
Or at least I don't think I was very happy.
I didn't feel at one.
Or like I fitted in.
I hated school.
I spent two years in mental hospital.
I was sick.
I was depressed.
I fell in love.
I fell out of love.
I fell in love again.
I went up and I went down.
I ate.
I didn't eat.
I cried.
I cried.
I smiled.
I laughed.
I became and artist.
I became an actor.
I grew.
I travelled.
I drew.
I screamed.
I shouted a lot.
I hurt things.
I got hurt.
I hurt myself.
I haven't spent a day doing nothing.
Apart from when I was forced.
I was imprisoned by others / I was trapped by myself.
I achieved.
I found myself.
I lost myself.
It keeps on going.
I drunk.
I drunk to much.
Had bad sex.
Good sex.
Used sex.
I made friends.
I lost friends.
I learnt to talk.
I learnt to listen.
I watched the world.
I still do.
I am changing.
And trying to change for the better.
Made rules.
Broke rules.
Challenged myself.
Always challenged myself.
Grew selfish.
Cared about others.

Change is permanent.
Fear is hard to overcome.
The future is in my hands.
Who knows what twenty means.
I had a great day.

Me at twenty

You make me more than cry

The star boy in my mind smiles on sound.

Silence glistens as my fractured brain feels whole.

What imagination I must have had to make him live and still the ghost remains?

A spectre of hope – it haunts me.

I cry when I feel what I have lost yet I do not know whether it ever even existed.

The story was there.

Fairytale fiction that found my heart and fixed my thoughts and made me feel free.

Freedom that slowly suffocated my shadow and changed from light to dark in an instant.

Beautiful boy with that pretty face and perfect body that fits just right and closes this space,

In my dreams you still stay,

One day, one day...

One day I will find you and the world will be the right colour again.

To feel found I have to say goodbye.

I miss the kiss. Tears fill my eyes because

I miss the kiss and my face tenses up.

Choking body.

I feel so angry at not knowing what or how or why I feel or why you fucking did this?

Choking frustration at you making this silly little girl so vile.

I want it to be ok.

Live the life...

But we planned so different.

I was the one that believed it. A fault so faultless.. I wish I could be like that again.

I just can't help but hate you.

That star boys ignorance.

You make me more than fucking cry.

Me and my CAMERA...

Film made in a couple of days whilst on residency at Trinity Buoy Wharf


Up against the wall; Down a dark alley from Elizabeth Ophelia Alice Rose on Vimeo.

Transcript

Do you feel sick if you can't be with me?
Yes
Do you see me in close up?
Yes
Do you love me?
Obviously
I am sorry.
I don't understand?
Are you in love with me? Please tell me.
You know I am completely in love with you.
Why am I not in love with you anymore? Why are you still in love with me?
Because things like love, desire, wants and needs... they change.
But I used to be in love with you and I don't even know when it stopped.
Probably when you realised there is more to life than love.
But I didn't. I don't think there is. I care about love. I really still want to be in love.
What if I never fall in love again?
You will.
I don't think it is that easy... real love!
Maybe you were never really truly in love with me?
No. No. No. I was very definitely in love with you.
Well ask yourself when was the last time you looked at me and said to your self, fuck I really love this person?
I don't know. Well I do. But the feeling was fleeting and it used to be there all the time. I know when I thought "fuck I love this person" but it isn't the same as thinking "fuck I am in love with tis person and I will be forever and I want nothing else."
I am scared.
Of what?
This.

Belongs in the factory...

I do not want to be alive now. I belong to 1960s New York.
Please send me back.

... exert form "Poor Little Rich Girl"


... exert form chelsea girls.

It is not that I want to be someone else. I want to be me. I just think i was born in the wrong time. Everything about me gravitates towards then.
This modern world is too confusing and I hate it.
It isn't romantic nostalgia ... it is a yearning a loss.. a bit like waiting for your soulmate.

Edie

I have been writing this blog for over a year and I still haven't been able to bring myself to post about Edie Sedgwick. I think it is because I would struggle to emphasise quite what this girl means to me or how much she means to me and why. Anyway here she is `:

Watching these videos completely overwhelms me with emotion. I cannot even watch all of the screen test. I think in the last year or so I have forgotten what my soul is. I have only moved slightly away, so tiny that I didn't realise, but I haven't been me.

sick

Richey Edwards and why (whatever the reason) this picture is disgusting...

A desperate act like this, however real, is made for the public; to shock and to cause distress, to gain attention and contrive the poor little me image. I am not saying self harm isn't real or that Richey Edwards didn't have a very real problem. A mentally stable person wouldn't do this, let alone do this for the public to see. I am all to aware of self harm. As an eleven  year old in an eating disorder clinic I was thrown into a distressing world where desperate people would slit there hands, necks, stomachs, thighs with anything they could find. I all too really saw with my very own eyes a friend slash chunks of flesh out of her arms "chunks"! and be rushed to hospital. I have felt the pain myself.. all through my teenage years witnessed and felt real real pain. It HURTS.
 The problem is sick people normalise there sickness or even become semi proud of there differences. In a sick world your drastic actions become something to lust after. Not just this it is a way of dealing with the "pain" the self obsessed fucking pain but it is sick it is ill. I have read about Richey he was no fake but the whole world becomes some sort of glamourised cult sick blood bath.
And I have been there... you can't help it but it is some sort of attention seeking thing, not conscious but so fucking sick. Sick for everyone else.
I feel his suffering. I get it. Yet...
I choose to distance myself. I spent my teenage years dealing with my own real problems and encountering my own real worlds. Pro- ana and pro- harm is something I am all too aware of. The destruction, the pure endless, glamorous destruction. I WANT to fit in. I WANT to be something. I AM SICK. THIS IS ME. THIS IS ME. THIS IS SO FUCKING ME THIS FUCKING TORTURED SOUL AND IT IS MY ONLY WAY OUT. I CUT MYSELF LIKE THIS. IT FEELS BETTER. IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD. I WANT TO DIE. LOOK AT MY BONES. LOOK AT MY BONES. DON'T LOOK AT MY BONES. IT IS ME. I WANT TO DISAPPEAR. THIS IS ME. I DON'T WANT TO BE ME. I HAVE THIS PROBLEM. IT IS MY LIFE. I AM SICK.
I had enough of it. I chose life. I chose to stop destroying myself. Chose to stop noticing my problems and get on with life. Deal with it.
The problem I have is the cult obsession. The cult leader ship and it is everywhere and it makes me sick. How dare people who don;t understand make judgements or think they no because they don't. How dare people shove this in my face as if it is going to make some sort of difference because it is not. Destruction isn't beautiful or tortured it is all so contrived and all so fake and I am not taking it.
Take it away. Take all this disgusting stuff away. It is there. But GOD don't be so self pitying and selfish and so fucking fucking selfish because you have no idea what you are doing.

4 stone 7 pounds

I eat too much to die
And not enough to stay alive

I'm sitting in the middle waiting
Cheeks sunken and despaired
Days since I last pissed
So gorgeous sunk to six stone
Lose my only remaining home

See my third rib appear
A week later all my flesh disappears
Stretching taut, cling-film on bone
I'm getting better

Kate and Emma and Kristin know it's fake
Karen says I've reached my target weight
Problem is diet's not a big enough word
I wanna be so skinny that I rot from view

I want to walk in the snow
And not leave a footprint
I want to walk in the snow
And not soil its purity
Stomach collapsed at five
Lift up my skirt my sex is gone

Naked and lovely and 5st. 2

May I bud and never flower
My vision's getting blurred
My hands are trembling stalks
But I can see my ribs and I feel fine
And I can feel my breasts are sinking

Mother trys to choke me with roast beef
And sits savouring her sole Ryvitta
But I can change, my cocoon shedding
That's the way you're built my father said

I want to walk in the snow
And not leave a footprint
I want to walk in the snow
And not soil its purity

Kate and Kristin and Kit Kat
All things I like looking at
Choice is skeletal in everybody's life
I choose my choice, I starve to frenzy
Too weak to fuss, too weak to die

Hunger soon passes and sickness soon tires
Legs bend, stockinged I am Twiggy
And I don't mind the horror that surrounds me
Self-worth scatters, self-esteem's a bore
I long since moved to a higher plateau


Just look at the fat scum who pamper me so
This discipline's so rare so please applaud
Yeh 4st. 7, an epilogue of youth
Such beautiful dignity in self-abuse
I've finally come to understand life
Through staring blankly at my navel 

by Manic Street Preachers

If I could be a dior illustration...

... I would be a Diorella girl.

On "Dior Illustrated -Rene  Grau and The Line of Beauty" at Somerset House

As always a vey well curated, interesting and visually beautiful exhibition at the Embankment Galleries at Somerset House. Like walking into a flower garden full of rare and exotic plants... basically a stunning collection of exquisite well preserved and original illustrations that are instantly recognisable and unmistakingly Dior. The ultra feminine, the ultra classy, the ultra borgeouis and ultra fragrant.

It is clear that Grau sees to be key to the invention of Dior and the partnership between him and Dior was one of soul like qualities.
"To be inspired by Dior is to  be inspired  by Rene Grau. His sketches capture the silhouette and spirit of Dior and a new era of fashion and femininity. His illustrations are timeless, ever youthful, ever faithful to the moment he saw; they capture the energy, the sophistication and daring of Dior, and equally are a token of enduring friendship."
               John Galliano

Diorella 1972
- A young  free spirit

Miss Dior 1971

Diorling 1963

Eau Savage 1978

- My quintessential man







The end of 2010..the beginning of 2011

As 2010 draws to a close it is time to reflect and note dn a few memories or special times, special people..
Some highlights...

• The beginning of th year started with the death of my Grandma. It was a horribly sad time but she will be remembered forever. I have many great memories and she was the best, loveliest Grandma ever.
• A lovely valentines day wih a trip to the Aquariam and a meal... believe it or not the first time I uttered the words I love you... now i say it all the time and have had the best (mostly) year with Wolfie. 2011 will be the start of our second year together and there should be many more to come. He saved my life.
• Finishing Art Foundationat CSM and having a fantastic end of year exhibition...developing as an artist.
• Being accepted onto BAFine Art and starting it.
• A wonderful birthday in Regents Park and The Rainforest Cafe
• Taking part in an exhibition on Brick Lane... "Something at the Rag Factory"
• Internship for The White Cube making art for Kiefer.
• A wonderful day for Wolfie's birthday at London Zoo (the second this year)
• Mothers day with both our mums (mine  and Wolfie)
• Lion King at the theatre with my dad, kate and Lulu... the second time.
• Foals with Ed and Foals with Wolfie.
• Peter Pan, Shun-Kin and The Imaginary Life of Edgar Allen Poe at the barbican theatre.
• The Monster Ball with Lady Gaga, getting engaged to Wolfie and staying in a hotel.
• Engagement tattoos
• Caribou and more at Field Day
• Arriving at Reading pouringwith rain bt being able to hae a tent with Wolfie.
• Most of Reading! minus the breakdowns! Libertines, Caribou, Arcade Fire, The Drums, Adam Green
• Adam Green at The Troxy and more...
• An amazing holiday with my Mum Sister and Wolfie in Andalucia.... Caves, Bullfight...Running into the sea at night naked!
• Crash exhibition at the Gargosian
• Surrealist house exhibition
• Show studio exhibition
• Starting rehersals for the play Rhinoceros
• Going  to see my old theatre company in Guildford with "Charlie's Empire"
• "The man who fell to earth" in a grotty pub on commercial street
• A meal for my mums birthday with my sister
• Joining  the best gym ever!
• Mine and Wolfies year anniversary and All Stars Meal
• Protesting for education
• Snow
• The best christmas ever!
• Many nights at forty winks
• Many Parties
• Many people
• Many adventures

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!
xxxx

the first christmas

I simply had a wonderful christmas day! Really, honestly the best christmas I have had since I was a very very little girl. I don't meant to sound scroogey I love christmasy things but over the years I really have learnt to hate christmas day! This year made all the difference.
Since I was six i spent christmas half way between my mums and my dads untill i was a teenager... a christmas of car journeys, when I became a teenager christmas was tense because of my own difficulties... I wanted to enjoy it but I always caused the problem; always threw a tantrum or caused a desperate argument... it was too stressful. Christmas was a boring day spent being bored and feeling suffocated and fearful... then last year... although a special christmas, one to be remebered, was a deeply sad time. Last year was the last year my grandma, someone for whom christmas was christmas. We woke up at 6 in the morning and travelled to Oxford to spend Christmas day in hospital with my wonderful grandma pam, the most fantastic Grandma anyone could wish for. She was very frail and had declined rapidly, it was a humbling moving and saddening day but I am so happy i got to see her before she died. I will remember her forever and ever as a beautiful beautiful young at heart lady.

Anyway thank you for this Christmas. Thank you Wolfie (Alex) for making this perfect, thank you for being there, thank you for my lovely presents, thank you for making me outstandingly happy. Thank you his family for being lovely. Thank you my family for being wonderful and my best friends with amazing presents, amazing food and a lovely Christmas. And well done me... because I have changed and grown (because of these people) and now I can do Christmas and enjoy it!

MERRY CHRISTMAS

theatre in subtitle

Last night I set off on another Barbican adventure to see Shun-Kin by Complicite.
A story of blinding light and darkness I really didn't know what I was in for.
The play really hit and touched me on a number of levels.... for a start the very fact that I never imagined it to be NOT IN ENGLISH! shocked me. How narrow minded i am! How lazy! The neon subtitles forced the audience to work hard shifting their gaze from the bright to the dark... minds woking fast trying not to miss a word or a scene. The stark contrat of the modern light and the dakness and ancientness of the story hinting at the complexity of the modern world. The cocoon of electricity playing against the blanket of shadows... which is more repressive?
The story.. one of blindess.. the audiene loosing their language.. the players their sight . A play about a woman's life time- "Shun-KIn" but in reality the story of her guide, slave and lover Sasuke. A story of the senses and of time. What is love? Is it harsh ... S and M? The vunerability and reliance of a master or the utter devotion of a slave?
What is love... to blind one self? Or would you blind yourself for love?
The complexity of love is revealed in its closeness to violence. A beauty or and ugliness who can tell? The story was troubling even at the most basic level but who are we to judge? All our lives are intertwined with darkness and light.
Stemming from traditional Japanese culture it questioned the past and future. What is right and where we are heading. The link betwee technology and the play was obvious... the play was reliant on technology yet it seemed to pity it.
Can we know fully live our lives noticing the magic and loveliness or are we tooo blinded?
Who knows?
What do you think?...

























The trailer for the japenense film of the same story (not as stylised)...

... A must watch in Japanese!

The Tower

THE TOWER
Basic Card Symbols

A tower on a rocky outcrop, a powerful bolt of lightning, one or two figures falling from the tower, sometimes waves crashing below.

Basic Tarot Story

As the Fool leaves the throne of the Goat God, he comes upon a Tower, fantastic, magnificent, and familiar. In fact, The Fool, himself, helped build this Tower back when the most important thing to him was making his mark on the world and proving himself better than other men. Inside the Tower, at the top, arrogant men still live, convinced of their rightness. Seeing the Tower again, the Fool feels as if lightning has just flashed across his mind; he thought he'd left that old self behind when he started on this spiritual journey. But he realizes now that he hasn't. He's been seeing himself, like the Tower, like the men inside, as alone and singular and superior, when in fact, he is no such thing. So captured is he by the shock of this insight, that he opens his mouth and releases a SHOUT! And to his astonishment and terror, as if the shout has taken form, a bolt of actual lightning slashes down from the heavens, striking the Tower and sending its residents leaping out into the waters below.

In a moment, it is over. The Tower is rubble, only rocks remaining. Stunned and shaken to the core, the Fool experiences grief, profound fear and disbelief. But also, a strange clarity of vision, as if his inner eye has finally opened. He tore down his resistance to change and sacrifice (Hanged man), then broke free of his fear and preconceptions of death (Death); he dissolved his belief that opposites cannot be merged (Temperance) and shattered the chains of ambition and desire (The Devil). But here and now, he has done what was hardest: destroyed the lies he held about himself. What's left is the bare, absolute truth. On this he can rebuild his soul.

Basic Tarot Meaning

With Mars as its ruling planet, the Tower is a card about war, a war between the structures of lies and the lightning flash of truth. The Tower, as Wang points out, stands for "false concepts and institutions that we take for real." When the Querent gets this card, they can expect to be shaken up, to be blinded by a shocking revelation. It sometimes takes that to see a truth that one refuses to see. Or to bring down beliefs that are so well constructed. What's most important to remember is that the tearing down of this structure, however painful, makes room for something new to be built.

Thirteen's Observations

No card scares a Tarot reader like the Tower - or the person they're reading for if that person knows anything about Tarot cards. It is however one of the clearest cards when it comes to meaning. False structures, false institutions, false beliefs are going to come tumbling down, suddenly, violently and all at once. What's important to remember as a tarot reader is that the one you're reading for likely does not know that something is false. Not yet. To the contrary, they probably believe that their lover is being faithful, that their religious beliefs are true and right, that there are no problems in their family structure, that everything is fine at work...oh, and that they're fine. Just fine, really.

Alas, they're about to get a very rude awakening. Shaken up, torn down, blown asunder. And all a reader can really do to soften the blow is assure the Querent that it is for the best. Nothing built on a lie, on falsehoods, can remain standing for long. Better to tear it all down and rebuild on the truth. It is not going to be pleasant or painless or easy, but it will be for the best.


THIS WAS MY PAST

The swan

I think there was a time when playin this saved my life. I miss it so much.
It maks me cy but it just fills me with an overwhelming sense of humility and peace.
Overwhelming hapiness and saddness at he same time. Life in all its glory.
Simply beautiful and pure.

Freedom

It is hard to loose a love
It's letting go of past that seem so present,
Dispersion of a precious prescence, emotional energy...
Can it save your life?
But love doesn't dissapear it moves on.
The world still suks in the energy and seeps it out; released again.
Not losing a love means not living,
There is so mch much more to love and you have freedom.