Yes!

A note from the editor...

Hello!
Due to an unfortunate event, I'm without a computer at home at the moment, but shall endeavour to return to you all with some new concotion from my fantasy world asap.
Have a lovely week until then xoxo

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!

Friday

Ghosts.

Alexandra Sophie

Once in a blue moon I'm completely unable to resist the temptation to watch a really scary movie. Like, a really, really scary one; one with nasty ghosts in it. I was talking about the macabre with my friend James recently and he confessed that he also got a sick kick out of scaring the hell out of himself with a movie. We both suffer for it afterwards when we are too scared to go upstairs/downstairs or turn the lights off, and every noise is heightened and almost certainly a monster ghost come to get you. Mum also used to tell me that she had eyes in the back of her head - that didn't help my creepy fascination at all. She used to stand with her back to me, but in front of the oven so she could see me reflected in the glass, and would then proceed to tell me exactly what I was doing. Scared the bananas out of me.

The List Maker.

Browsing through UK Elle this morning and found an article on the power of the list. My first reaction was "What?? Someone has been published in Elle with an article on lists??" and just because that had me charging round the bedroom in consternation, I sat back down and read it.
Turns out it's pretty sweet. We focus better when we have a list to work through - small things and 'life' things. And it directed me to this site: 43 Things - the world's largest goal-setting community. Click on zeitgeist for all these awesome little stories of different goals people have had and how they made them happen in their lives - and how long they took. Sweet-as.

Hermes Window, Collins St Melbourne.

Meet 'Sophia'

My gorgeous sis Dominique, on her new Vespa 'Sophia' which we bought today. They are both so cute!!

200 posts or sumfink or nuffink

Wally de Backer put this on his Gotye blog, so naturally, doing everything he says or even insinuates, I had to put it on mine too.
Think it nicely sums up what I aim to achieve with this blog (as I seem to have made it to 200 posts) and to celebrate the 'jibber jabber' that I hope brightens all your days my dear readers. Plus - its a great tune to sing as you go about your chores. xo

Just had a terrific idea!

Was just reading my friend's post about Malcolm McLaren's passing and thinking about how the visionaries amongst us are dropping like flies this year passing away a lot and its only April!
So I had this invention: a "Visionary Protection Agency"!!!
What it would be is a specialised, highly trained squadron of carers. A world-wide network (kind of like the CIA) of compassionate, caring and skilled individuals who will provide as much care as is needed to support the visionaries of the world.
No funny business! It would involve looking after them if they got the flu, cleaning their houses, doing the groceries, organising a psychologist as and when necessary, drying their tears, general proof-reading of concepts, handing them paints/instruments/cameras whatever they need to make their 'visions' etc etc...
Not groupies, as the carers would expect nothing in return except for a healthy, functioning visionary! It would be like Meals On Wheels and each visionary would have a group of carers so the responsibility was shared.
What do you think?

A small list...

This was inspired by Lesley Arfin. I love reading her jibber jabber. More often than not, she's a scream and simultaneously painfully honest. She wrote her list of Top Ten Least Favourite Things and I love all of them. So much that I want to do it too. So here goes. In no particular order:

1. And this is only because I agree with Lesley SO much on this one: OUTDOOR MUSIC FESTIVALS. No. Piss off, I dont want to go, like ever. Why would I want to hike around, get stomped on, have mean little mutants thump me because their boyfriend/hook up/douchebag is trying to get on me, get burnt, get super sweaty, be miles from the nearest toilets which are 3rd world standard when you do get there, and not even be able to get any closer than 500 mtrs from whoever it was you went to see to begin with. Plus have all the retards around me screaming "WAAAAAA WHERE ARE YOU THIS IS SO F........ MAD!!!" into their phones or crying cause they're all strung out and their boyfriend just asked for my number. Drugs are THE least glamorous look I can think of and I suspect you honestly would have to be high as a kite just to get through the bloody thing. No. I'm not going ever. And if the band I like is only playing festivals, then I dont like the band anymore. End of story.

2. FAKE TAN. Will you please cease and desist with the orange? Are you wanting to look like a porn thing? Is that it? Why in the name of heaven would you want to look like an Oompa Loompa porn thing? The stuff stinks because its super toxic - you may as well go and roll in some sewrage, because you're going to look and smell like you have anyway. What's wrong with being a normal coloured person please? It's SO much prettier. And all the lines on your body and the stained hands and heels - you really think that looks hot do you?

3. CHICKS WHO NEED DUDES. Grow up! And stop asking me who my boyfriend is. Do I look like I need one? Didnt think so.Would I like a boyfriend? Not if he's anything like the tool you're clinging to. Do I like your boyfriend/husband/poor dude you're currently stalking? Do you really want me to asnwer that question? I'd advise a psychologist and a big cup of "Get Real".

4. DUDES WHO TELL YOU ABOUT THEIR CAR/BIKE/SCOOTER/CLOTHES/HIGH PAYING JOB/HOUSE/BOAT/PHONE/WINE COLLECTION/KNOWLEDGE OF BEER/GYM MEMBERSHIP/DIET OR TRY TO CONVERT YOU.

5. HAIR EXTENSIONS. Please. That. Hair. Is. Not. Yours. Everyone. Can. Tell. It. Looks. Bizarre. Why don't you just grow your hair. You cut it all off, so just wait for it to grow again. If you cant deal with not having long hair then you must have arrived minus an imagination. The last laugh goes to the women who provide the hair from their own heads to donate to the cause of Western Vulgarity. Sorry, I just find it obscene.

6. BUCKS/HENS NIGHTS/WEEKENDS. They are never in Vogue and there's a reason for that. They are never spoken about as some fabulous soiree or as some ultra sophisticated and elegant celebration. I cant help thinking that if you need to go get trollied with all your bogan mates and an army of 'strippers' (yeah right, cause thats all they do) then the only place you belong is at Schoolies on the Gold Coast.

7. PRETEND STYLISTS. You all know the ones: they go charging round stores demanding look-books, saying things at the top of their lungs like "oooooo it's sooooooo last season Chanel!", and making condescending comments to their clients/anyone else within ear shot. You always know when they're dying to ask you where you got something because not knowing where something came from makes the 'stylist' crankier than a 2 week juice fast, and she will proceed to give you the stinkiest of stink eyes. ALWAYS accompanied by iphone which she angrily shouts into and whacks with her fingers (nails are black or orange: this is de rigeur). The 'stylist' believes that Rachel Zoe and the Olsen twins are the only people you need to know and anything else makes her very angry, mostly because her knowledge and skill is called into question. To be avoided at all costs, this nazi will rain on your parade and simultaneously bore you to death. They tend not to have ever heard of the Grace Coddington's of the world or of any artists and can be spotted drinking from takeaway coffees bigger than their heads.

8. VINTAGE KNOW-IT-ALLS. Does it really matter where it actually came from or what I paid for it? I love it so what's it to you?

9. NASTY REALITY TV AND BRAIN DEAD SOAP OPERAS. Brain, soul and life rotting. Just look at the way people behave in real life - they think they're on Home and Away or similar. It's tragic. The exception are cooking shows which are semi-informative and often hugely amusing.

10. CHILDBIRTH PHOTOS ON FACEBOOK. I get it. You gave birth to a human. Congratulations, and I really mean that, the whole thing is fantasticly exciting and I'm stoked that you're thrilled to be a Mama. Thing is, photos of the actual baby will suffice. Seeing your naked butt/extreme closeups of all the, ummm, stuff, is really overkill. Keep it for the family album if you must, but saints alive - have a bit of grace and dont force it upon your friends. What am I supposed to 'comment'? "Looking good"?? Write a blog about it, write whatever you want about it - that would be fantastic and empowering for all women. But 'arty' photos of blood start looking like you're reporting from the frontline. Even if they are black and white. What's next? Still life with placenta? It diminishes the mystery of birth - trust me on that one.


So there you have it. My list. I think that's one of the great things about blogging: you can vent without being terribly nasty to one person/group in particular and without actually hurting people's feelings which is a singularly dreadful thing to do. Also - people can always depart for Rachel Zoe's website and then take their computer to the repairers when they come too after lapsing into a coma and cracking their keyboard...

Direct from House of Heat-Stroke.

Today was so, SO hot. I hate it when the weather people swear blind that we will get a huge storm, and it just builds to a crescendo of wilted plants, humidity and headaches without so much as a tiny lightening bolt or thunder crash.

I was supposed to go to uni (college for my American readers), but my Dad was down to attend a seminar and I thought I should stick around in case he wanted me to come collect him. I did a huge dance practice this morning and then sat in the pool with my photography notes. I basically spent the rest of the day holding icecubes on my eye lids trying to get my heat-heavy eyes to focus on the words in front of me. I went out at about 2pm to jump in the pool again and accidently slipped on the stairs and cracked my shin against the wall and simultaneously dropped my study book into the water. It's a library book. I immediately got that prickly feeling you get between your shoulder blades when your mind is weighing up the pros and cons of throwing something and swearing or quietly sitting down to assess the damage. It chose a bit of both.

Hopefully tomorrow will be cooler in every sense of the word! xo