Flowers
I think about flowers, a lot.
They’re so alien to our world.
But really, we’re just living in their world.
Observers and thieves.
Animals know a thing or two
He is asleep, stretched out just behind my chair while I work.
To be so unashamedly insistent on being close to someone is something I admire in animals.
A noise downstairs has lifted his head with curiosity, ears pointed and ready.
Now he is gone, without a feeling of guilt for such sudden departure. Another thing I admire in animals.
Dooms day dance
The world is supposed to be ending. Again.
Something about a calendar and numbers, or lack thereof.
If it is true (though I doubt it to be) I hope it all ends with a fit of laughter and you tumbling off the bed like you used to. This time however, I would be joining you.
Tiny fingers
The sky is sending down tiny fingers, poking people on their shoulders and noses.
I can see them leaving spots and stripes on the apartment building opposite my window.
One of the women who lives there doesn’t like these tiny fingers today, for they are tickling her washing on the clothes line, causing her delicates to giggle girlishly.
You not He
No. God did not cure Your cancer.
Nor did He burn down Your house to teach You the lesson of new beginnings.
And He wasn’t stroking Your hair while You nearly lost Your mind.
It is all reckless coincidence like the exploding stars of how We began.
You came through with Your own two hands and star dust in Your heart.
So take comfort in that.
My new baby! I can create a custom print with you as your favorite animal! Couple and group prints also available. http://www.etsy.com/shop/HalfBeast
My new baby! I can create a custom print with you as your favorite animal! Couple and group prints also available. http://www.etsy.com/shop/HalfBeast
What was
They were bad times but they were good times.
I look back and it’s easy to say I’m glad it’s over. Cover it with a blanket and tuck it in. Good night part of my life, please never wake up.
But in the fog of what was, there were moments and there were people who were riding the same train as I. We shared words and secrets with such strength and connection it would make an adult blush at the vulnerability of it all.
We may not speak anymore, but I want you to know that you thinned the fog.
A note to women: you must be sexy but not smart, always.
Allow me a moment to get on my feminist high horse…just let me put on my diamante bikini first.
I was doing some research for an electric company I’m about to design a logo for. So as usual I’m trawling google image search for some inspiration. One of the searches I emitted was ‘electrician uniform’.
The first few image results featuring men show your average respectable guy in the typical electrician ‘get up’ (pictured below). Yes, the second guy kinda looks like a stock photographer’s dream BUT he isn’t doing anything suggestive or dumb.
So moving on to the next few results, the ONLY images of female electricians depicted are these:
As you can see, in these photos the model is either strangling herself with an electrical cord, not wearing a bra/shirt or shoes (who needs those if you’re a sexelectrician?) or wearing said cord as a fashionable belt all the while keeping the sultry meter up to about 8.
Why am I so bothered by this other than the obvious? As a designer the occasional day will be spent looking through stock photography and no matter what I’m searching for be it coffee, a tree or a dog; there will be a set of “sexy” women either drinking it, sitting under one or walking it.
4 ways a mandarin can clear your mind
1. Peeling the skin will make all of the tiny pores burst with that strong citrus perfume. This redolence will take you back to last winter when you went for a bush walk with your lover and shared a mandarin at a rest stop. It may even take you back to school days of awkward lunch breaks spent alone.
2. You can spend umpteen minutes peeling away each stringy piece of pith from your mandarin. I find this part of the process the most meditative. The longer you spend on this part, the clearer your mind will be.
3. The sound made when pulling segments of a mandarin apart can’t be described, but it is one of my favorite sounds in the world.
4. Eating the mandarin is also nice and acts as another distraction from nagging thoughts.
Taking a walk around my neighborhood at night, with the deliberate purpose of being an observer, quite literally made me feel like I was sleep walking. Even the act of taking photos didn’t distract from this dream like state.
You hear families scraping dinner plates, broken conversations, windows opening and doors closing. That warm glow through the curtains trick me in to believing their lives are just perfect at that moment.
I reached a point where I didn’t know where I was anymore, until I stumbled upon a sporting field. Standing there my eyes and brain worked over time, like when you walk in to a dark room where everything slowly becomes familiar as you adjust to the lighting. As if waking from a dream, it became clear that this is the sporting field I go to nearly every day to walk my dog. I had just never seen it from this angle, in the dark.
A poodle in Brugges, taken with my OM2 Olympus.
A lesson from the moon
The Moon tapped my shoulder through a thin gap in my curtains.
I was startled, because I didn’t know the moon had fingers. Or a hand. Or an arm for that matter. Or that he would want my attention so urgently, it seemed.
“Yes, The Moon?” I asked.
“I can see what you are doing just now” he replied.
“Oh…”
I was sitting crossed legged on my floor, cutting up my life in to small slices, like you would a peach. Each slice glistening and juicy, alarming flesh colors against the pure white of an ordinary dinner plate.
“What a funny thing to do with your life” The Moon commented.
The truth is, I was sad. Sad, restless, confused and thought that if I could see each fragment clearly then perhaps I would be able to piece it all back together somehow and start anew. A fresh piece of fruit to hold in my hands.
The Moon then reached past my shoulder and stole a piece right from the plate. He ate it greedily, juice running down his wrist and arm. Yes, The Moon also has a tongue. He used it to clean the sticky mess with.
“No!” I cried to The Moon.
The Moon’s hand was reaching for more, so I hunched over the plate to protect the remains.
“It’s mine” I said, sheepishly.
“Then enjoy every single slice you foolish girl. It will do you no good just looking at it.” The Moon explained.
He was right. The Moon is always right.
Wrong water
Rinse the paintbrush in my glass of water, drink the bowl of rinsing water.
I painted this a few years back. Painting is what I love to do, so why do I find it so difficult to get back in to?
