An artist never really finishes his work, he merely abandons it.

Hi! So.
Please ignore the bloody awful sexism of the above quote - (by one Paul Vallery, the shcmuck!)... I love the quote, nonetheless.
I've received emails (EMAILS, folks), from followers of this blog... and they say that they'd appreciate to hear a little more of the actual facts of my life. The cheek of them!
So. Here you go.
I love art. I'm a dancer. Last time I cooked anything, I ended up in the freaking Burns Ward. I don't care for folks who do jobs they dislike... but I do jobs I dislike. I'm a complete contradiction in terms. I want a guy I can leap on, but I want him to ask me first ... blugh!! I want to wear heels all the time, but when I come home, I sit on the steps and take them off and berate myself that I ever bought them in the first place. I don't understand why I cant wear a feather headdress, daily - because I still want to be taken seriously. I don't like philosophers. But I also love them. I've been told to find a really quiet man. I did. Twice. It drove me to drink. I'd rather be loving it up in Byron or Noosa, 9 times out of 10. I was just taken to a new bar in Brisbane tonight - it was gorgeous... I love being shown/finding new things. Cher was at her best when she was with Sonny. Sorry, she was. Why do people have to get old and weird? I fear I'm in love with the world. I also fear that this blog may be my current 'best form of expression'. That scares me because I wonder what the hell I'm doing in my spare time. Bobby and I made another blog, here. Maybe because we both have an interest in mythology and had no one to pash at the time. This may be a terrible post; an absolutely vomit worthy sharing, which you all wish I'd kept in the can of my heart. But.... that's this Doll. Tonight. Write back, Please!