quick question-
why do elderly ladies always choose pastels?!
is it because they feel it represents their lives fading away.../?? How depressing! I think i will finally adopt fluro when i get old!
Thursday, October 4, 2007
The Good, the Bad and the Bitch Face
The whole time she was yelling at me I couldn’t help but stare at that angry red birthmark over her left eyelid, her double chin wobbled in response to the flicks she made with her head festooned with dark brown curls. She was like an angry fighting bull that needed a good poke from a dominating body to make her behave, preferably a male but her kind has to take what she gets. Yes I am in nasty mode today, please don’t judge me too harshly, after all I retaliate in the face of massive bitches like the one I had to deal with recently. I happen to be of the mind, especially now, that ugly women are one of the angriest breed of women around. This state of unhappiness stems from all sorts of places, but what I am most interested in discussing today is the hatred that ugly women have for attractive women. Some of you, my gentle readers, may be already taken aback by this topic of discussion, but hear me out and reflect for a moment, are you an ugly angry person and is anger making you even uglier?
Let’s do some calculations, although my maths is a little rusty from my high school days but this is easy stuff. Happiness + confidence + goodness= Attractive, angry + low self-esteem + evil= Ugly. Wow my year seven high school maths teacher Mr Troupe would be proud of my conversions. Those of you who can see the holes in my logic, humour me okay. So from this we can ascertain that ugly people and attractive people are indeed at odds already with one another even before they meet heads. You can’t deny the maths! This sow, this cunt (pardon my French); I couldn’t help but wonder if she was angry at me because I was more attractive than her, her short stumpy legs and wide frame was a contrast to my long legs and I think I can say alluringly curvy figure. Did she fall into my calculations of angry ugly people? Well she was definitely angry, low self-esteem well I’ll assume so by the look of her, and evil to the core yes! I have stumbled upon a mathematically truth to explain ugly women.
I would like to go back to my bull analogy to finish this off and offer some advice to those bulls of you out there. It is in the bulls’ nature to attempt to master it over the beautifully coloured clad fighter, it can’t help but be drawn in by the magnificent performance. But, and here it is, hidden behind the bright material flashing in front if your face is a pointy sword, excuse the phallic reference, that will inevitably kill the bull dead or at least wound it quite badly. This is a lesson to anyone who assumes that beauty equals passivity and to never accept something at face value. But this is a common mistake for lunatics. I’d be angry too if I had to look at that in the mirror everyday and realise it was me.
You self-righteous bitch, I hope you choke on your rage!
Let’s do some calculations, although my maths is a little rusty from my high school days but this is easy stuff. Happiness + confidence + goodness= Attractive, angry + low self-esteem + evil= Ugly. Wow my year seven high school maths teacher Mr Troupe would be proud of my conversions. Those of you who can see the holes in my logic, humour me okay. So from this we can ascertain that ugly people and attractive people are indeed at odds already with one another even before they meet heads. You can’t deny the maths! This sow, this cunt (pardon my French); I couldn’t help but wonder if she was angry at me because I was more attractive than her, her short stumpy legs and wide frame was a contrast to my long legs and I think I can say alluringly curvy figure. Did she fall into my calculations of angry ugly people? Well she was definitely angry, low self-esteem well I’ll assume so by the look of her, and evil to the core yes! I have stumbled upon a mathematically truth to explain ugly women.
I would like to go back to my bull analogy to finish this off and offer some advice to those bulls of you out there. It is in the bulls’ nature to attempt to master it over the beautifully coloured clad fighter, it can’t help but be drawn in by the magnificent performance. But, and here it is, hidden behind the bright material flashing in front if your face is a pointy sword, excuse the phallic reference, that will inevitably kill the bull dead or at least wound it quite badly. This is a lesson to anyone who assumes that beauty equals passivity and to never accept something at face value. But this is a common mistake for lunatics. I’d be angry too if I had to look at that in the mirror everyday and realise it was me.
You self-righteous bitch, I hope you choke on your rage!
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Library Liver
I often feel like my liver is a reservoir for past mistakes. Lately I have been thinking a lot about my own alcohol consumption and how memory doesn’t really draw in the artefacts of my inebriation.
Sometimes these artefacts live and breathe beyond my own bod: dogs for example. But eventually they move away and what am I left with really? I mean I have the memory of the day after, and, if there is material evidence I can sometimes piece together what might have been. This leaves a doily though: and I have never been one for crochet. But my liver is a knitter: it knows what I’ve been up to! Maybe I can treat my gut like a filing cabinet and pull out the odd sock here and there.
Liver: I like you, but lately you don’t like me.
Sometimes these artefacts live and breathe beyond my own bod: dogs for example. But eventually they move away and what am I left with really? I mean I have the memory of the day after, and, if there is material evidence I can sometimes piece together what might have been. This leaves a doily though: and I have never been one for crochet. But my liver is a knitter: it knows what I’ve been up to! Maybe I can treat my gut like a filing cabinet and pull out the odd sock here and there.
Liver: I like you, but lately you don’t like me.
Beyond the white cube: into the silicon labyrinth
I am in the initial throes of writing a piece about spaces for creativity and, as an extension of this- access to art in our hyper-real computer age.
Some questions: but no answers…
How does the artist come to grips with this boundless domain? (the audience has become so intangible, yet is only a click away)
How do we cope with the saturation of imagery (as an audience), when the internet, after all, is all about commerce and capitalism..??
How does the artist use the space as a medium (the internet has its limitations: bandwidth etc.) ??
Where does the gallery space fit in- or doesn’t it? (is it simply a pre-cursor?!)
Some questions: but no answers…
How does the artist come to grips with this boundless domain? (the audience has become so intangible, yet is only a click away)
How do we cope with the saturation of imagery (as an audience), when the internet, after all, is all about commerce and capitalism..??
How does the artist use the space as a medium (the internet has its limitations: bandwidth etc.) ??
Where does the gallery space fit in- or doesn’t it? (is it simply a pre-cursor?!)
Tears of Endearment
Before we go any further we would both like to, not only welcome everyone to our pages of electronic salvation, but also to add that everything we post here is an expression of our own lives and experiences. I think some famous person (although they must not have been that famous since I can't remember their name) once said that you must write from life. Hence we are inviting you to take a peek at our sick little worlds, so enjoy!
Welcome...
...to slue softly...
Samantha and me:
WE:
are less than eager administrators:
willing our way through the daze:
this spot will be our savior:
Stay tuned!
Samantha and me:
WE:
are less than eager administrators:
willing our way through the daze:
this spot will be our savior:
Stay tuned!
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