Last night I went to an exhibition opening with my old friend, just thought, hey, I never go out, I’m such a hermit these days. I also had a drawing at the show, my new figure study below. They hid my work in the worst spot in the gallery, the “oh let’s just put this one here spot”. And from there, the evening just slid down a slippery slope of that creepy feeling I always get at galleries. The rejection, the falsity, the established resident dinosaurs winning all the prizes…the fucking I hate this fucking art world feeling. So we had some red wine, and some more, and then a cocktail at a bar, and then landed in someone else’s house who happened to have lines on the table, speed, coke….whiskey, bongs….damn. And I found myself in one of those moments where the universe’s tides just placed me there and I ask myself “How the fuck did I just end up here?” Three different types of alcoholic beverages and three types of different substances later I arrive home in one, whole piece. As if all the substances cancelled each other out, and me in this hectic moment of clarity about myself and my relationship with the so called ‘art world’. Today I woke up early and the first thing I did was buy a sketchbook to draw. Not for a gallery, or a dealer or a buyer or a teacher or a curator. Not even for me. Just draw, for drawing, because it’s drawing.
My response to an optimistic remark about how artists can earn, how there is a ‘ market .’
My art serves either as
1) immediate raw therapy or deep personal truth, which creates uneasy viewers or 1)premeditated strategies to please/arouse the viewer in the hope that it sells, or is loved.
One is true, the other lie. One is viable, the other not. Niches are for the lucky ones. And most true, true artists are either discovered or not, as most artists loathe self promotion and suck with earthly things like money.
I’ve dyed my hair and cut my hair over five times in the last couple of months. Chaos taught me so many things, like morphing my identity, not seeing it as sacred and yet staying true to myself. What a ride. Like what you dislike, change your name, do what you would never do…changing my hair with each moon cycle.
and here I landed with this cut, settling for the whole “afrikaans lady clocking forty”look
Ive thought about this for many years: what is beauty?
It is surely death
When death is near, you love life, it’s beauty and it’s splendour. You think: how can one world be this beautiful? And the beauty overwhelms you like a blanket in the fever. You are standing on Friedrich’s sunset hill and you just wanna cry baby, cry.
Two fuckeduppedly deep & sordid connections: my hypnotherapist chased one away, over the bridge of time, to never return again. It was awesome. He made sure he fucked off once & for all. But then he died, my hypnotherapist, before he could send you away too…I try and reach the bridge of time through self hypnosis and I do….but you never show up, so I can never tell you to fuck off for good. Its just me standing there, on the bridge, desperate for your appearance. But you never show up. Unless I dont look for you, or dont call you, or dont send you an invite…then you appear…as if you exist only when i dont see you.
Fiona in die skadu, fiona innie vlam
Jy wentel nou nog om my rond
Verkyk jou eerder aan celebs of so
Daars te min plastiek op hierdie werf…
We smile at each other
and I lean back against the wicker couch.
How does it feel to be dead? I say.
You touch my knees with your blue fingers.
And when you open your mouth,
a ball of yellow light falls to the floor
and burns a hole through it.
Don’t tell me, I say. I don’t want to hear.
Did you ever, you start,
wear a certain kind of dress
and just by accident,
so inconsequential you barely notice it,
your fingers graze that dress
and you hear the sound of a knife cutting paper,
you see it too
and you realize how that image
is simply the extension of another image,
that your own life
is a chain of words
that one day will snap.
Words, you say, young girls in a circle, holding hands,
and beginning to rise heavenward
in their confirmation dresses,
like white helium balloons,
the wreathes of flowers on their heads spinning,
and above all that,
that’s where I’m floating,
and that’s what it’s like
only ten times clearer,
ten times more horrible.
Could anyone alive survive it?
“Illusion is the first of all pleasures.” -Voltaire
Listen to Leonard Cohen – You Want It Darker (Landhouse&Raddantze Edit) by Landhouse #np on #SoundCloud
Best late night beats
Listen to 02 Wood – Sternensee by Ton Töpferei #np on #SoundCloud
Spoke to a friend who calls himself an underachiever. I said yeah, the world doesn’t want interesting, or intelligent, or deep. The more boring and dumbass and ordinary the bigger your chance of success. Like the other day in teambuilding at my dayjob…the instructor asked us to introduce ourselves and tell the rest of the staff something interesting about ourselves. Suzy says ‘I like movies, Johny says ‘I play golf’…and when it was my turn i said “Im into esotericism and i do feminist performance art.” ….like I just fell from another planet.
It’s the usual
Go from a
6 to an
And the first
The male gaze on lesbian sexuality taints it with power. I’m not sure which side the power comes from
“I decided that it was not wisdom that enabled poets to write their poetry, but a kind of instinct or inspiration, such as you find in seers and prophets who deliver all their sublime messages without knowing in the least what they mean.” -Socrates
“As to marriage or celibacy, let a man take which course he will, he will be sure to repent.” -Socrates
How well could Slash fuck his guitar?
Funny how sometimes you get to the conclusion that you did something radical or irrational in moments of madness. It was just being crazy and it’s over now. And then, it all resurfaces. As if a dormant broth, simmering slowly under the covers. And you desire the same things again, want and need the same things again…willing to risk it all for the same things again.
For me, growing up in the eighties, early nineties, in SA, what a mindfucking blast, a beautiful catastrophe. I played the part as the rebel, slutty girl who hated school. And “jags”…as adolescence dictates. It was two years before Apartheid ended, and I was so glad it did, so I could go out and hunt myself some coloured boys who knew how to dance and vry properly.
I religiously kept a diary, intensively, almost each day of my teenage life. A journal, consisting out of written Afrikaans prose, photographs, letters…I would like to open it up, but the chaos, the dust, the let it lie…perhaps not to be opened up at all, but burnt, once again one with the earth from where my experiences grew.
The people we admired, the social standard for beauty are evident in these pages. And a different boy per page…a list of boys I kissed, the ones with the dots went further than a kiss. Just a Lovesick Afrikaans girls’ pop culture dagboekie.
fills the void
i still remember
how your eyes for me
VII. THE PRINCIPLE OF GENDER.
“Gender is in everything; everything has its Masculine and Feminine Principles Gender; manifests on all planes.” — The Kybalion
This Principle embodies the truth that there is GENDER manifested in everything — the Masculine and Feminine Principles ever at work. This is true not only of the Physical Plane, but of the Mental and even the Spiritual Planes. On the Physical Plane, the Principle manifests as SEX, on the higher planes it takes higher forms, but the Principle is ever the same. No creation, physical, mental or spiritual, is possible without this Principle. An understanding of its laws will throw light on many a subject that has perplexed the minds of men. The Principle of Gender works ever in the direction of generation, regeneration, and creation. Everything, and every person, contains the two Elements or Principles, or this great Principle, within it, him or her. Every Male thing has the Female Element also; every Female contains also the Male Principle. If you would understand the philosophy of Mental and Spiritual Creation, Generation, and Re-generation, you must understand and study this Hermetic Principle. It contains the solution of many mysteries of Life. We caution you that this Principle has no reference to the many base, pernicious and degrading lustful theories, teachings and practices, which are taught under fanciful titles, and which are a prostitution of the great natural principle of Gender. Such base revivals of the ancient infamous forms of Phallicism tend to ruin mind, body and soul, and the Hermetic Philosophy has ever sounded the warning note against these degraded teachings which tend toward lust, licentiousness, and perversion of Nature’s principles. If you seek such teachings, you must go elsewhere for them — Hermeticism contains nothing for you along these lines. To the pure, all things are pure; to the base, all things are base.
I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
Translated by Stephen Tapscott
Alone With Everybody
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
and nobody finds the
crawling in and out
the bone and the
for more than
there’s no chance
we are all trapped
by a singular
nobody ever finds
the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
3. The Principle of Vibration
“Nothing rests; everything moves; everything vibrates.”–The
This Principle embodies the truth that “everything is in motion”; “everything vibrates”; “nothing is at rest”; facts which Modern Science endorses, and which each new scientific discovery tends to verify. And yet this Hermetic Principle was enunciated thousands of years ago, by the Masters of Ancient Egypt. This Principle explains that the differences between different manifestations of Matter, Energy, Mind, and even Spirit, result largely from varying rates of Vibration. From THE ALL, which is Pure Spirit, down to the grossest form of Matter, all is in vibration–the higher the vibration, the higher the position in the scale. The vibration of Spirit is at such an infinite rate of intensity and rapidity that it is practically at rest–just as a rapidly moving wheel seems to be motionless. And at the other end of the scale, there are gross forms of matter whose vibrations are so low as to seem at rest. Between these poles, there are millions upon millions of varying degrees of vibration. From corpuscle and electron, atom and molecule, to worlds and universes, everything is in vibratory motion. This is also true on the planes of energy and force (which are but varying degrees of vibration); and also on the mental planes (whose states depend upon vibrations); and even on to the spiritual planes. An understanding of this Principle, with the appropriate formulas, enables Hermetic students to control their own mental vibrations as well as those of others. The Masters also apply this Principle to the conquering of Natural phenomena, in various ways. “He who understands the Principle of Vibration, has grasped the scepter of power,” says one of the old writers.
It’s me, simmering under the lid.
Dare not peep inside. Keep it shut.
Listen to Everything Fades Away by The Last Hour #np on #SoundCloud
Listen to Raving George Feat. Oscar And The Wolf – You’re Mine (Original Mix) by Spinnin’ Deep #np on #SoundCloud
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some newish work