Waiting for paint to dry. August has been a really special month for me.
Mercury in retrograde. Grumble grumble. Finally hit me. Grumble grumble. Tremendously grumpy. Grumble grumble. Save yourself from the side eye. Grumble grumble. Making scribbles with shedding paintbrushes. Grumble grumble. In my woman cave. Grumble grumble. Emerging only for food. Grumble grumble. Could print a mini-zine I started making last night. Grumble grumble. Going to nap instead. Grumble grumble.
It’s been a long time since I felt like documenting things.
Years ago, before Instagram and even before I started using Facebook – I used to carry a camera around with me wherever I went. I loved to create memories and lived for capturing the little things that I saw so much beauty in. For awhile I stopped doing that. For about three years I lived a life I didn’t think was worth documenting or remembering at all, and carrying a camera around gave me an anxiety I associated with not wanting to take up space. Right now I am full of appreciation for the worst moments I experienced because I know that things can – and must – change. If you’re in an unhappy place: (and I have been in maybe all the unhappy places – so I say this with certainty) it’s temporary.
It might last an age, but it won’t last forever.
So I thought I’d talk a little about where I am in life right now.
I am charging up a spirit bomb of projects intended for print, that; upon collective completion – I’d like to think will be a defining stage in my creative identity. I don’t feel quite right talking about these projects yet, but I will talk about one! The justification being that it couldn’t exist if I didn’t talk about it.
I’m currently putting together a 77 page zine called Scribble Scribble! A mess-aesthetic passion project I see as a very limited edition glossy print. Essentially it’s a curation of art pieces contributed by friends and strangers, and there’s already a really unusual narrative forming, connecting the pieces together in a way I hadn’t imagined. It’s so exciting to put together. The internet is so magical.
I’ve wanted to self publish a zine since I was around twenty-two, so its been five years coming. This is a mock up of the front cover.
The aesthetic is inspired by a girl’s bathroom I wandered into one night around May of this year, when I was living in Copenhagen.
In other, less future-oriented news, I recently visited the Tate Britain and it was so much fun! I walked around taking photographs of strangers interacting with art, came home with a few postcards (one of which is featured in the little collage above) and a gorgeous coffee table book (which I should scan in at some point!) and most importantly an even deeper determination to create-create-create. If you are looking to be inspired I encourage you to visit an art gallery.
Here’s a video of my Instagram stories from that night.
2017 has been one of the best years of my life. It hasn’t been tremendously eventful but I’ve developed a lot as an individual with the help of some really special people (friends/youtubers/abraham hicks and alan watts!) and I am so happy right now.
When I went to Fashion School, I learned that fashion is transient – where style endures. So in a sense; I prefer not to be fashionable at all. Perhaps thats why I dropped out.
That said, I have to confess: I’ve finally fallen victim to the Slider trend.
I’d like to introduce you to my very first pair. EVER.
I find them both subtle and garish, obnoxious yet understated. SO ME. I love them!
My intention was to exclusively wear them at home but I fell for them so, that they’ve had a few adventures about London with me this week. Most notably I swapped them for a pair of six inch heels at Swan Lake, when, during an interval I had a cigarette break that lasted a little-too-long and I had to rush back to my seat. Imagine me running through the lavish hallways of the Royal Opera House donning these silly things. A steward sweetly told me he had a pair of his own at home, in black of course. We both laughed. After the ballet, I reluctantly changed back into my heels for dinner.
While I’ve always been a slipper person, (I spent the first six months of Film school – which I did not drop out of – almost exclusively wearing a suuuuuper cheap pair of black sheepskin slip-ons everywhere throughout my campus) (I’m sure if I were to expend some effort I could recall various moments-of-significance in my life by mentally drawing up a slipper-timeline of sorts, and perhaps, I will do that some time) I have to admit that I’m a slider-convert. I don’t say this lightly: I’ve spent my life abhorring and resenting these shoes vehemently.
Now I’ve decided I’d like to start collecting them.