_MG_4918.JPG.The proportions in my kitchen are fucked up_MG_4961eddit_MG_4966.and today i collected two military jakkits (inauthentic ones) i had customised. I am going to pay to have their parts swapped. they’re unfinished. i clambered onto my little balcony to take some photos. i tried to mao them up abit

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.when i first moved in i planted some seeds from the vintage workshop. they’re slowly growing and that sort of thing makes me so happy

Earlier today I saw a post on my secondary school’s facebook about Chimamanda Ngozi’s Ted Talk. The second the video began to play I knew I’d be able to listen to her speaking for hours. I became very familiar with her story and I went on a lot of thought journeys but the ones I decided to annotate were the following:

.Ngozi Adichi talking about walking into a bookshoppe and asking for a book for a child in her family somehow took me on a thought journey through which I realised that the adult industry/the porn industry is probably the only industry that really pioneered the embraces the differences in performers of different nationalities/races and colours.

.Fairuza Balk might’ve been the first Arab woman I had ever seen in a film.
{American History X} {Doing a sex scene}

In 2012 I started planning working towards a graphic novel. That was seven years ago. These two images were taken from a mini-album on my behance.

I started illustrating the mis en scene using a graphics tablet and photographs because i couldn’t afford an artist who could draw the level of detail i’d of wanted. so i’d trace images and collage them into compositions. I was going through a lot of stuff that needed explanation and that was the only way I could do it.

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i’d pick the lines that created the most distinctive shapes, and i’d draw over the objects and figures using the paint tool and the straight line function. I know there are all sorts of apps around that make it possible for a person to do that now, but I used to do it manually. I’d zoom into the images I was drawing over so that they were blown up pixel by pixel forms. I didn’t get how to find tutorials online and at the time there weren’t many around – so I had to work it all out for myself.

{Segueway: I got to play with the idea of filling a shop up with magazines I'd made.}

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{

It meant I could play with dimension and proportion and use objects that I don’t think had ever been depicted together in 2D. If you’re curious as to why I chose to use a stock image of a laptop rather than my macbook (this girl and i brought in the idea of apple computers being domestic necessities.) it’s because I like the idea of playing with/exchanging/decorating external bodies.

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If you have an idea – work on it for a minute to an hour to a week and keep it visible and come back to it. Anyway – it’s fun that I have some stuff to contribute to the thing that is really sitting at the back of my head.

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I HAVE TWO THINGS TO LOOK FORWARD TO

FIRSTLY

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An email alerted me to the fact that there is a new season of Aggretsuko. She likes Cradle of Filth and does a holding-in-pee-dance. I also like Cradle of Filth and do a holding-in-pee-dance.

SECONDLY

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An Etsy seller who deserves a polite link has apparently dispatched my miniature butcher’s cuts of prime meats. #modestylpriced

THIRDLY

I’m gonna get vaguely cute & then I’m visiting Laine tomorrow to collect some magical custom orders.


If you need to laugh-smile and also do the most soul crippling kind of posi thinking manifestation

(and you should, because it is healthy. you don’t necessarily get what you are wanting at the very front of your mind. The stuff you wanted growing up comes first that it is easier for you to accept into your life.) (I have improved vastly at art)

try playing this

(if you press play and then hover over the video and press cntrl + click and then ‘loop’, the video will auto replay.)

at the same time as this

About two years ago I dressed up as a poor man’s version of little red riding hood for a Halloween party in Denmark. I write about it ad nauseum, that’s what growing up has been for me. Adulthood, refuse it and all of it’s a-decent-party-once-every-ten-years-and-theres-no-well-lit-event-photography-that-can-suggest-to-the-contrary connotations.

Months after that party I had moved into a room in a couple’s apartment in Denmark and I taught myself the very basics of after effects (an animation software) and I made a short animation of Red Riding Hood strolling through the woods. I often try to forget a memory I have of rehearsing the laugh for the end of the animation. I was skipping down some apartment stairs in an affluent area trying to practice an “evil” child’s laugh. I bumped into a neighbour who made eye contact with me. iunno. I think it is amazing to exist in a time when that software is available and the information is available for people to learn it. (I revisit the story a lot but a lot was going on, even though it wasn’t.)

In sixth form I did an A-level that discussed fairytales and those repetitive archetypes which are the fabric of the media that we engage with daily. Every story we read or film we watch has a character who is living a vibrant and interesting life of their own and their psyche is made up of layers of not just one of those nursery-school fairytales but many of them. I took the work into as many subjects as I could and that was really how I tried to develop what I think was Snow White. (I decided she had an eating disorder and that her step mother was feeding her apples laced with laxatives). I explored a lot of mental states as a teenager. It’s how people build character, the shit they allow themselves to go through as teenagers.

As I write this, I am watching this. #WLVS

But to research for that collection of A level work I had to read the Brothers Grimms version – which was grotesque, but it was important to do so because it was the origins of that particular fairy tale. The version I was studying was a short story in a novella by  Angela Carter called the Bloody Chamber. Her writing style is so distinctive that you cannot pretend not to have read it. In her version of Red Riding Hood she empowers the female protagonist without trying to negate from the underlying thematics of the original narrative.

This is my favourite version of the Three Little Pigs. Watch it, it takes minutes. You might enjoy the series.

The stills of note, though:

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When you fancy yourself some kind of imaginative or creative you have a compulsion somehow to learn how people work. How does a woman become the kind of person that would ever need to walk around with a pistol? How did she learn to walk through the woods in high heels? Who taught her how to skin wolves? Why do I like her? Why did my child self like her this much?

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If it’s not clear from this post I’ve probably been subconsciously working towards making my own version of Roald Dahl’s Three Little Pigs, probably for my spiritual kids channel thing. I performed a puppet show for myself using a hairclip for the wolf’s dialogue.  I am confident that the performance could translate to something grand.

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The actor in me (every single one of my interests or talents encourages a person to compartmentalise their identity) would repeat something she recently read about Sr. Antony Hopkins in which he said that he’d spent his life thinking about the role of King Lear, which he played at the end of last year. He was quoted as saying that it took him years simply to comprehend how he could play that role. I’m saving watching the film for the moment in time when I’m in the right company. Do you know that I’ve seen a few Shakespeares – Twelfth Night (I was meant to play the slutty barmaid and I made up every excuse in the book to drop out and regret nothing.), A Midsummer’s Night Dream, Romeo and Juliet, performed and on every occasion I left with an impression that neither PTSD nor years spend stoned could erase from my memory. There’s something about every single one of those performances that I can recall.

I have Shakespeare script on my forearm and I could discuss the plays and poems that I like – at length – but I’ve not “seen all of his work” nor have I read all of his scripts. (I know that people don’t think he actually wrote the scripts and that the performances were mostly improvised at the time) but I’m happy for that to be something I do over many years. I think that to understand anything, it takes a very long time. To understand a character or really relate to their story, especially a deus ex machina, it really takes years. Probably because the Universe throws all of these instances at you whereby you have to learn how a person would really respond to that situation.

I know that when you watch a Shakespeare a few too many times, one of the characters becomes you. It’s sort of a literary curse.

Here is the very-beginnings of an Al Pacino-esque pig bag that I designed this week. I ordered some leather offcuts off etsy and they were delicate enough that I could poke some pins through them.

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I liked the idea of 1. not cutting, because cutting leather is a drag and 2. making something with a shape I already had, kind of like origami artists do and 3. if I had the cash I’d buy this Loewe bag and that probably serves as an artist reference too.

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I’ve added this bag to my I LOVE LIST. Which has not been a thing for a long time.

As if you could, consider the idea of me recreating Red’s outfit as imagined by Quentin Blake. Here’s a hood I designed/co-created. (If you have favourite artists you’re not designing anything on your own. I initially had written ‘that I designed’ but that’s not entirely honest. I was thinking of myself while I designed it because there are a lot of cuts that I can wear that a lot of people can’t.)

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I would wear it sensibly for kids-intended TV. I would wear it like this to Torture Garden. (Which I’d then write about.) Oh, by the way my tumblr URL has changed to @KnightsTemplar13. I know Tumblr got weird, I think the original programmers must’ve sold it because it got that weird, but if you do you – at least you aren’t contributing to the weird.

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The tattoo is about falling in love too soon. It is a real thing that made my life difficult years ago. It doesn’t make my life as difficult anymore. Years ago I’d of been so upset if you brought up this band, in relations to this tattoo, but actually it’s preferred to the alternatives. I’ll grow up again.

 

when I think about it, I really enjoy the correlations in the narratives between myself and the Little Red Riding Hood that appears – the shallow ones I mean. I must’ve at some point absorbed this into my subconscious as a vision for what I could be when I grew up.

The voice actor playing the female roles in this animated series that I watched a lot is a very renowned British thespian called Prunella Scales. I like her most as Sybil in Fawlty Towers. As a child I learned to be able to recognise people by voice and it became somewhat of a party trick later when I dated a film-buff (who surpassed me in his dedication) and I’d be able to tell him which of his favourite actors were my favourite voice actors, in obscure cartoons that he’d never of been that interested in watching if it hadn’t of been for me.

 

and the correlations I’d of preferred. As a film person (I am a film person – an age of social media exchanges via video? I’d of thought it was my time. My imagination is meditative journeys of the human figure engaging with stories in time to music, it’s fast forwards and rewinds from different angles, with different colour temperatures – the details)

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Here is me pretending to be Vega.

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I know that we’re having this moment socio/culturally where we don’t read lengthy pieces of text on the internet. I’m condensing as much as I can but really to adopt an Orwell-ism for a moment “For a time when this is interesting”

ughhhh fuck periods

basically if there were people on the internet I wanted to speak to I’d say

I just spent 24 hours without electricity (like 15 hours)

I was cooking bacon and I ate it – not raw – but basically raw (normally, fine)

and then a few minutes later, I was lying in bed trying to work out who to hate for the collection of domestic and physiological inconveniences that are presently bothering me and then I got severe diarrhea cramps and nausea and I wanted to throw up

I was trying to determine whether I needed to use the toilet (blocked, again, so that would’ve sucked) because I was having a bad reaction to the bacon or whether I was starting my period (which also sucks but sucks less than food poisoning or hypochondria. I don’t have hypochondria but if you get a stomach ache after consuming meat that is technically not fully cooked, it is appropriate to be concerned that your body might not be able to digest it. Iunno)

I thought of a doctor and asked if I had been poisoned and they said “it’s a period.” thanks. so much. love you.

I ate all of my brioche, all of my cornershop camelot vanilla wafers, all of my cooking chocolate and all of my ferrero rochers

i’m trying to teach myself how to save by “collecting” different kinds of chocolate which was never ever going to work, ever

saving makes no sense. gonna put that out there. it’s a stupid thing to do.


i recently bought myself a new harddrive so i could finish editing all of the videos i’ve made this year that i actually like but my electricity ran out just as i was about to dedicate myself to work. here are some unedited photos of my bedroom that i’d like to delete from my camera but that i’d also like to remember.

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I found this really creepy “1 star house keeping” book next to a bin and it featured a photograph of this plate design amongst some of the food photography and THAT is why I am pissed off that so much of the stuff I had been collecting while I grew up “went missing”. (My first ever set of plates were a sky blue plastic set from Primark that matched the colour of my first bedroom, by some coincidence, but they disappeared)

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sun.ninth.june.2019

I started writing this post late last night and I'm kind of 
compelled to complete it. It's incomplete. It's Sunday, so I'm going 
to edit it throughout today. 

It's now 14:37 and I've decided I'm turning this post into a playlist.

Play this 



This is a Patrick Wolf song I love. He might pretend otherwise but
he is doing a very serious Cloud cosplay here. If he dressed like 
this all the time I'd probably be following him on instagram and
day dreaming about dating him and Lisa (the Jpopstar) and Owen
Pallett. He doesn't though. Rude.

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thats a line pregnant women get, not body hair. i naght pregnat. 
i do get body hairs but those shadow line are naght body hairs, okay

The caption is pretty sad. It used to be very fashionable to deprecate yourself – for awhile the internet was populated by introverted girls that liked to express themselves and explore visual fantasies through both getting naked and playing dress up and gallivanting as models, rockstars and internet personalities. It became really important to make sure that everyone knew that you didn’t look exactly like photographs of you (especially if your thing was being a transvestite popstar) that had been taken after three hours of playing with make up and grabbing every lamp in the house and then masking taping up some tinfoil as a reflector before photoshopping yourself into some fantastic anime.

I feel as though if I deprecate myself I will encourage you to think that I am not unaware that I am flawed. I don’t even know if I like doing that. I feel like it’s okay to make the art I always wanted to make if I do that preemptively. Or maybe it’s me guilt tripping you.

If you see a nice photograph of me, either I’ve taken it or I made a tremendous amount of effort to look nice. I don’t look like nice all the time. I don’t often enjoy bad photos of me unless they are capturing some kind of expression or emotion that better helps me express my inner landscape. Sometimes I like bad photographs of me a lot.

I’ve never made money from being in photos, I’ve never had a fanbase to speak of. Actually that is a lie. The issue was I DID have a fanbase and I considered them all friends with lives as interesting as mine.

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I took some self portraits that I like a lot.

look. if I photograph erotica or what I consider to be erotica, it’s a performance. unless it isn’t. and it has never not been a performance. It’s why I went to University. But there was a lot of stuff I had to learn at University before I started asking people to get naked in front of a camera to stimulate the love/sex act. i feel safer photographing myself right now. i definitely believe it is important to divulge that what might (or might not, I might not be your type) convey some invitation to think about sex is actually a complete indifference on my part. i think that based on what I learned about the adult industry I know that it is preferred that a person capturing that stuff isn’t really aroused by it.

the women you see appearing in the porn on redtube and pornhub probably didn’t enjoy filming it all that much. Condensed: I seldom sexualise the human body and the likelihood of sexualising someone else having sex is even more seldom but I love to observe it with the very same feeling and very same passion I might I love to observe people making cakes surrounded by the perfect decor.

I like classical art, particularly religious iconography – that depicts what i consider unsexual nudity. I am like the grandmother that you’d sooner shoot yourself in the penis than ever mention sex in front of if you don’t get through the first two or three stages of trust-building with me, I could walk in on you watching a sex scene in a film and admire the way the light hit the upholstery. interior cinematics should be a degree of it’s own in an economy that will soon be structured based on people restructuring the architecture of their lives. i say soon – i mean. the next thirty years and the only things my generation will want will be couture and houses.

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The image above is a scan I took of a postcard I bought from a 
charity shoppe in Farnham. It's a painting that decorates the
ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. 


but i am not uncomfortable in the knowledge of the male gaze. not irresponsible with it either.

A Jewish lecturer who I believe has rediscovered faith entirely – with fresh perspective – from what I think he and I could at least as academic equals would agree was inescapable proof of the extraordinary – and that the navigation of non-physical requires a person to stick to any and every holy law they’ve ever been taught in their life, once asked me if I knew about the ‘male gaze’.

At the time I understood the male gaze was the tendency men have to sexualise objects that emulate genitals and sexual organs and replied “I don’t care.” Well. We left that brief chat with two very different understandings towards the exchange. (We realised a bit later)

Throughout forever, and ironically this didn’t come across, was that I liked to be all sorts of versions of me. I compensated with the idea of not being an actor even though that’s all I had ever really worked towards growing up by deciding that when I got a job one day I could either design or buy the kind of clothes I thought I should really be wearing. I would be able to pay to write and direct the kinds of cartoons I’d like to watch. That I could direct my own vision for what sex between men and women who love each other could be like, because pornography certainly didn’t reflect that at the time and nor does it now.

i want you to understand that when i photograph myself: i’m not like. oh i feel like fucking someone, theres no one around, im gonna photograph the hell out of my ass and masturbate while I think about fucking myself. this is not an explanation, actually there is a version of me in time and space that would upload a photograph of me expressing some kind of emotion and then a sentence or two passive aggressively attacking an ex boyfriend.

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Ok so before you scroll down - I want to create a multi-sensory experience. I wrote in my 'about me' that this is my art blog.
Please try to engage with this blog as an art-installation for
this song.



I learned about Laibach when I used to visit Camden on Saturdays at
about thirteen years old. I'd walk through all the goth shops and
very rarely ever bought anything because I would spend my money on
the street food. and Alcohol. Which I'd drink on the streets and
beside the canal.

One time I walked into a shop not far off Cyber Dog and there was
this sexy goth (look - all the camden kids fancied the grown ups that
worked in the shops. We had absolutely no idea that we were that far
out of their age bracket and I assure you that atleast where sexy
effeminate goths were concerned - it was 100% consensual if
foolish

rape is never consensual




. I was rarely taken by music, my tastes were so
specific that until now there are that few albums that I can say I
enjoy in any kind of entirety.

(If you're curious: A Perfect Circle 13th Step, I can listen to
throughout.)
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Professor Germaine Greer sometimes speaks about some of her audience-intended erotic endeavours,  there are plenty of videos on youtube where she briefly mentions her escapades as an editor for an “indie” (but not indie at all) adult publication that publicised all sorts of cave man/animal fantasies apparently (I tried finding a copy online but I faile) and I think that contrast was what made her so popular with the boyz that she clearly pursued when she was studying. (I will never not regard her debate at Oxford as a formal introduction to the United Kingdoms most eligible bachelors)

She had her own publication – a magazine that had pseudo-sordid images of all sorts of today-taboo erotic fantasies that all-people have, but keep secret. Imagine, for a second, the power you might associate subconsciously with a woman who was so undisturbed by the most fucking awful depths of the human sexuality that was also a staunch women’s activist in a time when men were legally allowed to rape their wives, who authored many journals that planted seeds for a direction through which women’s liberation could grow so that we could better achieve an acceptable equality with our co-genders.

Her literature is forever my enabler in making any kind of “erotic” art. “Erotic” art is my favourite kind of art but I actually sourced a lot of personal guilt for that for a long time, because my fascination with art of that nature encouraged men to objectify the female body and idealise sex that they’d observed without considering that it was captured from a performative perspective.

which could lived within the confines of a domestic pig barn intended architecturally to host miniatures of dystopian male and female forms and to eventually grow up to be carbon copies of their parents

I’ve always been somewhat considerate towards how feminists might regard my

As far as my contribution towards any kind of feminist research goes.. the adult industry is the only industry that begins to compensate women or otherwise perhaps the first media-form to really portray women in positions of power over men in a way that wasn’t intended to portray the idea as some kind of social threat or narrative-propaganda. But yes – Germaine was once invited to pose for Playboy magazine and she offered to do so for free. Knowing about the male gaze she chose to be photographed in various spreads – which was socially unacceptable at the time and it was considered unacceptable for publication.  Prof. Germaine’s social peers were oxbridge boys and gals at the time and if I were told that one of those oxbridge boys had made a phonecall to stop the photographs from being published as some kind of secret act of love, she’d probably roll her eyes. I’d smile because it’s sweet that someone can be so entitled, but it is also wrong.

Someone once said that it would be wrong if everyone in this country were to seek further education (thats how we describe getting a bachelors degree. your first three years of university do not count as university, they count as acclimating to the real – world while trying to make sense of how you can contribute to it while also trying to discover the identity you kept hidden from the people you grew up with. in my experience, atleast.)

Did you know I learned about Germaine Greer through this? If you go thirtine seconds in Adrian Mole’s mother sort of offers my childself a testimonial for a book that would truly change my entire life.

(I am being Bert right now. If you watch. My life is Bert. I have no one to talk about it online with and I miss instant messaging so that I could tell my fake friends “I am Bert” and then we’d watch Adrian Mole together. But that’s not an internet reality anymore. The internets personal karmic narrative is not great right now. I’m really excited for the next big internet phase, and the next big internet phase AFTER the approaching one will be when people will begin to structure their homes to accommodate virtual reality.

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My generation of weird and terribly attired london street kids made it okay to get body modifications. The kids that had scarification (the sterile kind you get in a piercers shoppe and also the kind you inflicted upon yourself in a rage or an episode of teenage heartbreak or depression or abuse or whatever misery we were all living), screws cut into their heads that would enable them to attach (and remove) little horns, their belly buttons closed up as a symbol of detachment to the “mother” and one’s own conception, competed the way that men do in pub banter by getting their bodies pierced (a cosmetic pain ritual that indicated some passing of age between us that is not too dissimilar to the practices of some African tribes actually.)

If I was born with two genders and I had my penis removed it is a freedom of it’s own, I promise

i mean. at this point in my life, unless you are someone i consider a teacher or angelina jolie the goddess her fucking self, i do not want a pep talk

before i went to uni my spiritual teacher lisa gave me a book that taught me this: “don’t steal”. it discussed stealing. stealing actually has many faces and not all of them are evil. i would never consider a person stealing a loaf of bread to feed their starving family “stealing”, but it is. Would I think it right to punish the person who had stolen that loaf of bread in the same way I would punish a person who had stolen my autonomy, because they had decided that my blog posts were secretly directed towards them and that I had been inviting them to have sex with me by posting photographs of my body on the internet? No. Here’s another example of “nice stealing”: if you go to work – and you’re ill, it’s bad karma. Society might encourage you to think that it’s selfish not to go to work – just because you have a the ‘man flu’, but in terms of the spiritual principles that are being expressed through laws like “THOU SHALT NOT STEAL” (it appears in most religious ideologies – the idea that taking that which you know isn’t yours to take is wrong. If you make someone else ill, you are stealing time from their life. If you went out with your common cold and gave the cold to a diabetic, they could be bed ridden for weeks because it takes diabetic people a longer time to heal. You pay karmically for that. Karma is not something people can quantify or determine and should avoid it. Just keep an eye on your own. Invading someone’s privacy is bad karma.

Imagine believing that this Planet is Hell and that I’m here for lying – about a disability. It’s a nice kind of lying, cos you don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want to talk about it – but it’s still lying. If someone says “how are you?” and you respond with “i’m fine” when you are not “fine” it’s still lying. And that if i’d of spoken about my issue, lots of people would’ve been receiving benefits because they literally couldn’t work but were being called lazy?

The bible says ‘sinful’ but what we can accept empirically so far is – if you steal that guys livelihood, he’s going to suffer for it, and he has never done anything to you that could make him deserve for you to do that.

Last night I was so stoned I enjoyed Nickelback. I feel like if I 
joined one of those secret societies where the lower tier frat 
brothers like to black mail one another by 'safe keeping' humiliating
 secrets - that that would be the thing that they used against me. 
So if I put it here, if I write about it here, it's confessed. 
It's in the open. Do I like Nickelback? I did once.