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Sigur Rós “Fjögur píanó” clip a year on, and just as...

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 00:18:00 +1000

Sigur Rós “Fjögur píanó” clip a year on, and just as tinglingly haunting.

dawnawakened: Johann Ryno De Wet, Underland (2009) “My...

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 14:21:42 +1000

Johann Ryno De Wet, Underland (2009)

“My methodology for creating images starts with writing down the events of the dream as soon as I’ve woken up. Sometimes I’ll make sketches to help me remember particular visual details of the dream. I use this information to look for subject matter in my environment that has elements matching those of the environment of the dream. I then use digital manipulation to combine different visual elements to create the environments and the atmosphere I experienced in the dream. This is an important part, as it is where I transform my vision into a tangible medium. The meaning of a dream is the most important part, as it forms the backbone of the project. I therefore focus on using dreams that have a lasting effect on me, or is meaningful to me in some way. To me life is an existential journey and dreams can play an important part in learning how to deal with the complexities of living and can help to see things from a different perspective. The materializing of my dreams into images is a process which helps me understand myself and life better.” - Artist’s Statement

#streetart #love

Sun, 16 Jun 2013 16:00:50 +1000

#streetart #love

Narcissism

Sun, 16 Jun 2013 00:29:00 +1000

In response to post ‘cheating, abandonment, denial and desolation’ 21 April.

It has been repeatedly pointed out and its been demonstrated many times since that this ‘great’ man was always a cowardly narcissist. One of the unfortunate skills a narcissist has is making one, you - their immediate captive audience - feel like the most important person in the world. They do this by drawing from that person the energy they need in order to feel good, gain strength - and reflecting it. You see what you want to see: you in the best light. They do this with anyone they feel they will gain an advantage through, choosing their associates, playing on their egos. Only until such point of course, that they move to the next person, leaving the first drained and discarded. What that first person can learn upon reflection is rather than being weak and abandoned, as they feel, they are the strong one. Always were.

It is always worth looking past one’s charm and asking, why does this person have no old friends? I forgave it, I forgave and made a lot of excuses for this person- their questionable repulsive habits, their lack of social skills or social graces, their inability or unwillingness to demonstrate care for friends, their lack of hygiene or prowess in the bedroom- because I thought they were good. A little lost, without confidence, but good. Truly good.

I don’t even know why we started. I was at a turning point, feeling sad and lonely, and he was kind to me. A friend who provided company. I convinced myself the arrogance was just a front for insecurities and felt sorry for him. I wanted him to be the person he thought he could be, so he would be happy and could shed the front. I wanted to help him, because he’d helped me. But when I’d done that, loved him, assisted him from the tiny dirty hole he existed in, encouraged him to shake some of his disgusting habits and take care of himself, with the inkling of success the ‘front’ consumed him, and it turned out the good was not important. I’d served my purpose. A stepping stone. Supported, emotionally, physically, monetarily, was flaunted as a prize until the next model was hooked, then tossed. With no more ceremony than a crushed packet of cigarettes.

It was all a campaign built of a need to be seen as popular and desirable. To fill the great void within himself, his melancholy and self-hatred, with RTs and follower numbers and public exchanges with ‘popular’ types. Gauging himself by these fickle, unreal measures. It is pathetic, but not to be pitied.

Being lulled, elevated, constantly assured of his love and our future together right up til the discovery of the highest cowardice, meant the truth came like a bullet to the gut, and when it hit I thought I would not survive. But it was not by him I was hurt. It was that I had allowed myself to be so fooled. The person I loved would have thought the fake world he was so attracted to now a joke. The person I loved, when in that moment of utter blackness I sent a photo, upon waking and seeing the bath and the blood, would have cared. Not absolutely dismiss it. Not even falter in his step. Not go on to make breakfast for the new model, and tweet about it. Not a second’s thought then, never since a simple ‘sorry for how this made you feel’, not a question about how I am.

I do believe the person I loved had the knowledge to be truly great. I don’t think I could have been made to imagine or fooled on that part. I think this is what carries the game. Just when it comes down to it he has not the ability, the wisdom, the strength. So instead, he chooses the easy, the banal, the cowardly.

The day before he literally left my bed and went to hers, he spoke of our future children. Keeping me just there, assured. I am sickened thinking of this.

Our end meant people from his past could be open, and hearing subsequently the extent of his depravity and deceit was like pouring spirits on the wound, in the same way as it stings, but also cleanses.

I don’t fall easily. It took two years for me to be convinced I loved him in the way he wanted me to. In the forever after. I also suggested a break so he, we, could figure things out, which we’d just resumed from. Perhaps this was the challenge that kept us going, and the excuse needed for the way we ended, that damage to pride. I really should have listened to my gut, the unanswered questions above. But at least, I have learnt a lot in the process. And through its end, stronger bonds have formed.

Of course this is just my side of the story. His/theirs is trackable through every social media platform throughout our last month together, and probably since. It’s all part of the game. The narcissistic, feeding, public crusade.

With this post, I am drawing an end to musings on this topic. It has been almost three months since the four years worth nothing, way too much time spent on someone so obviously without values, or value. He does not deserve a second’s more consideration.

miniature greenhouse seedling success!

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 15:32:34 +1000

miniature greenhouse seedling success!

Shift Your Perspective, Bondi The early morning logistics...

Sat, 01 Jun 2013 17:50:00 +1000

Shift Your Perspective, Bondi

The early morning logistics provided a bit of fun, meeting up with a friend at 4.30am to ride through the darkened streets into the city, then dumping the bikes at work and jumping in a cab to pick up the third member of our party. We arrived to join a rugged-up crowd gathered in the dark at the top of the steps leading to the Bondi to Bronte cliff walk. There were lanterns and scraps of paper dealt out. The paper was to write down things we no longer wanted or that ‘no longer served us in our life’. We then burnt them in a little ceremony before heading out along the cliffs. Every so often along the way there were questions posed for us to think about, and the sun slowly turned the horizon red. The group strung out so all you could see were bobbing lanterns winding along the rock ledge. We then reached our destination of Bronte beach, where yoga mats were set out in two concurrent circles, and waited for the sun to rise. More paper was handed out, this time to write affirmations which were to be used in an artwork.
The group gathered at the middle of the circle for some chanting, before heading to the mats for yoga practice. The instructor spoke about using our breath and stretches to work out the things we didn’t want, and invite the good. Assistant instructors came around to ever so warmly correct poses. Once the hour of practice was done we formed two circles holding hands and were spoken through feeling the energy of the connected group as the sun climbed above the horizon to light up the day.
I’m not really across the spiritual side of yoga, but went with it, the first day of the new season, feeling good things are to come. The experience with such beautiful company, and sunrise, was already a wondrous gift.

The full moon has angled over the window so slatted light streams across my face and pillow. If...

Sat, 25 May 2013 16:03:15 +1000

The full moon has angled over the window so slatted light streams across my face and pillow. If sleep was proving difficult before, it is impossible now. I gaze up at her eons old face and wonder at all she has seen, and whether it has ever made any sense. I realise this must be why she is so hauntingly sad. I feel like I must always have known this. I am amazed by her strength, to continue to take it on, and give in return beauty and light.
Quieted by this thought I slowly share my sadness with the moon. She waits until Ive finished, pauses and finally responds with a knowingly look. She says she’ll watch, so I can rest now.

henrytheworst: Working out.

Sat, 18 May 2013 20:14:43 +1000

henrytheworst:

Working out.

warmth from the universe

Sun, 12 May 2013 12:46:00 +1000

Dear M,
Thanks. I’m glad you are still there, and that my out of practice communications are not as clutzy as they feel. I think it may be Felix who makes you smile. I’m just his interpreter. You do smile beautifully, though, through your eyes, and now through fingertips dancing on a keyboard.
Gratuitous suggestion: keep going, breathing slowly, in the present, working, studying, but not too hard, not punishing yourself. Also eat, exercise, sleep. Balance will return, in good time.
I’ll be in touch again, so we can get together later.
Have I introduced you to Priscilla the Principled Puffin? Here channelling her cousin the Wonderful Cat, getting on with it, walking, clearing her head, solving another mystery …

More warmth.

aestheticfeed: Do you feel like a chainstore?

Sun, 12 May 2013 00:30:10 +1000

aestheticfeed:

Do you feel like a chainstore?

I don’t hate you. You’re not worth that much energy. If I had to, I would liken you to...

Sun, 12 May 2013 00:29:00 +1000

I don’t hate you. You’re not worth that much energy.

If I had to, I would liken you to how I feel about slugs; my least favourite creature. They bother me a little, but I don’t spend too much time thinking about them, and if someone was to step on one, I don’t mind.

Though they, like you, do make a bit of a mess.

on twitter

Sun, 05 May 2013 23:53:00 +1000

Twitter has perpetuated our seemingly intrinsic need for cliques. What better format for the smart & socially awkward than a screen and 140 characters to hide behind; and when part of a clique, the joy! It is easier. It is a weapon. Clever and not so clever alike are so easily directed. If the person/s you admire think something is noteworthy, you no longer have to critically evaluate if you as an individual does also. You simply RT/agree, and reference every subsequent interaction with the subtext, knowing all ‘in the know’ will get it, fulfilling your and their needs.

Because, finally, you belong.

Or you make a show of not agreeing, and storify it.

The good, I enjoy. Feeling part of a community who shares things of worth and beauty, who contribute and build. The nasty, who humiliate and ostracise I can do without. Troll Thursday etc. We are years beyond that behaviour. Adults, we are doing it wrong.

reallyreallyreallytrying: i turned vegetarian whn i read “Animal Farm”. shocking expose of Commie...

Sun, 05 May 2013 16:14:08 +1000

reallyreallyreallytrying:

i turned vegetarian whn i read “Animal Farm”. shocking expose of Commie beasts. turns out all meat is “Red”. well, i wont eat it

"We’re fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction."

Sun, 05 May 2013 16:00:00 +1000

“We’re fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction.”

- Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay

kenopsia

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 19:58:52 +1000

dictionaryofobscuresorrows:

n. the eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that’s usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet—a school hallway in the evening, an unlit office on a weekend, vacant fairgrounds—an emotional afterimage that makes it seem not just empty but hyper-empty, with a total population in the negative, who are so conspicuously absent they glow like neon signs.

Remembering chalk rainbows for light and love, not hurt and...

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 11:44:46 +1000

Remembering chalk rainbows for light and love, not hurt and heartbreak. #DYIrainbow

thesilentchild: “Watching you walk out of my life doesn’t make...

Tue, 23 Apr 2013 07:28:07 +1000

thesilentchild:

“Watching you walk out of my life doesn’t make me bitter or cynical about love. It makes me realize that if I wanted so much to be with the wrong person, how amazing it will be when the right one comes along.”

rob1ch: This beautiful animal is Red-bellied short-necked...

Sun, 21 Apr 2013 13:51:41 +1000

rob1ch:

This beautiful animal is Red-bellied short-necked turtle. It is found in Australia and Papua New Guinea, and in Australia it is highly endangered. These stunning colours are highly pronounced as infants and juveniles, but fade as they age. They reach about ten inches (25cm) in length.

cheating, abandonment, denial and desolation

Sun, 21 Apr 2013 02:36:00 +1000

Today as well as other non-fiction, I’ve been detailing a pathetic story of cheating, abandonment, denial and desolation.

The protagonist is a once-great man turned child, on a campaign for popularity. On some level he is aware of this retrogression, and its reasons, but ignores it ashamed. He dupes many around him, because he never really shows himself. Those that knew him before though, are not fooled. They see the slide, try to help. But the once-great man turned child will not listen. Suddenly aware others are aware of his void he lies, pretends, and when found out, retaliates, and casts them aside. He exults, thinking himself free, and is over enthusiastic, convincing himself he has come out on top. He cloaks himself with people who still believe him great, who think the same way, so not only does he not learn and grow, but he regresses to a point he can no longer see greatness. He is content with the benign. Happy even, for he knows nothing else now. He uses his once-great words often and exuberantly- and those who were once impressed because they didn’t understand, now see the words are hollow, void, shells. Representational of what he has become. As the de-evolution continues his words- the one thing he was known for- become dribble. In the end, no one is fooled, and he is alone.

——-

ed- see post 16 June. This ‘great’ man, was never great. Merely a fantastic conjurer, playing on what they know you want.

Your father didn’t love me when we married. He hardly knew me...

Sun, 31 Mar 2013 23:09:29 +1000

Your father didn’t love me when we married. He hardly knew me or I him. Love didn’t just happen to us. We built it slowly over the years, stone by stone, for you, for your brothers and sisters, for all of us. It’s not as exciting as secret passion in the woods, but it is stronger. It lasts longer.

And that is what would be in store for me with one of Walder Frey’s daughters, what you and father had?

Why not? Because she’s not beautiful? Because she’s not exotic and exciting?