Independence

Today filled me up
like a full river
lying in a cup that's too small

Tonight is a hollow boat
on a trickling stream
far from the sea

Too much
Not enough

-

Some nights the tattoo on my back tingles and burns - it wants to tear itself off the skin with longing for a horizon line. Here in my room in my house in my housing estate with the view of the neighbours opposite, and the apartments beyond that, and the telephone towers beyond that, and the dirty night beyond that, and the stars that hang in it, winking and teasing. Love is in the rooms, sleeping in the beds, cooking in the kitchen. But the sea and the stars, the moon, the great big world calling: books are not enough, love is not enough. Home is not enough. Home is my warm stomach, my dying pet, waking up in the morning to find yourself planted with the roots of a tree - demanding love, trust, time, effort. Home is too much.

I feel like a box with a curse inside it, and a picture of a ship drawn on the lid like a magic seal. I look at it looking out at the world - both cure and disease.

I wonder about my mysterious grandmother. Maybe it's her living inside me.

It doesn't judge

I got given a little digital chia pet, and I'm lovin' it. So much so I hope I don't water it to death. It comforts me during these dark deadline days, by saying things like 'wat up dog', not to mention just sitting there all by its cutesome.

?

I'm going to write you a poem about art
and this is it:

It's midnight
in my city
I'm two rooms
with a window in the wall
the world's in one
sleeping on the floor
nothing's in the other
except the door.

Laying traps

Put a word out onto the forest floor. It can be any forest. Tie a piece of thread around it. Will it to take a walk. If you try hard enough it will start to move. It may take days or weeks. If you get tired of waiting, find another spot in the forest (maybe find another forest). Lay another word out. Will THAT to take a walk. Repeat as long as things remain static. Keep trying. Don’t worry, once one of them moves just a little, the others will follow, because you've tied them together! Hunt, kill and feast.

Maturin II

After I collected my degree (it's still rolled up somewhere, I don't know where), came home and started making art, I thought I'd never want to do anything else. It makes my life so fun and meaningful because I get to indulge in whatever obsession of the moment - barricade tape, ships, tattoos, footballs, astronomy, metronomes.

Progressively, it's been getting more meaningful but less fun. I don't know how that happened. The other night I divulged a secret to T.W. - I often make things thinking of the object first, and then insert some kind of 'message' - that's how 'Executive Toy' came about: you see, all I wanted to do was make ceramic balls and paint on them. Yeah, I know. This post is doing myself no favours.

I've been thinking seriously about going to fashion school next year. My unborn label 'Maturin ' has been on my mind constantly in the past couple of months. I don't want to be in the fashion industry. I don't have a passion for that, no passion to 'be on top'. I only want to make clothes and other things that are crafted with a bit of care and integrity. I look at all the stuff that's in these cute new boutiques today and I have no idea where they come from - which factory in China or Indonesia? Cheap fabrics, poor stitching. Clothes you wear for 2 months and throw out after. It's terrible. And then there are the big clothing companies like GAP and TopShop - although they're better designed, they're still not built to last. I'm lucky enough that I can fit my late grandmother's clothes perfectly - they're probably more than half a century old. The colors are as bright as ever, the edge binding shows no signs of fraying, seams and hems are perfectly intact, even the damn buttons refuse to come off!

I think when you make something like that, something beautiful and useful, it defies the ostentatious and gratuitous commercialism that has come to define the fashion industry. I don't want someone to tell me the meaning of value and luxury. That's why Maturin will be a fashion label, NOT a brand. It's just another reason and avenue to do things my way - independent, self-starting and sustainable. I think that buying good things makes you buy less things. My personal wardrobe is pretty small, and unlikely to grow much bigger.

Anyway, these are just the 3am thoughts of an artist who hasn't been using her hands enough the past six months.

Grace

I've been caught in free-lancer's nightmare the past week, feeling as if Rome is burning down around me. Money woes, exhaustion, fatigue, ill health, low spirits, anxiety, frequent and inexplicable tears, guilt (did you know 10,000 people are dead from the cyclone that hit Myanmar? My friend M.S. is safe, thanks be). But I've been shown a great deal of kindness and understanding, including gifts, financial advice, love and a particularly generous and gentle email from an editor I swear has been enduring my deadline caprices month after month. Sometimes I do wish things were hard enough to drive me off across the sea to better lands, but there it is. I'm here to stay. Love and warm wishes wafting your way into the cybersphere.

I wants me a...

JUMPSUIT!

This one's from Baby Phat, but mine would be black or navy blue stretch satin with a row of buttons all the way down to...

No hooker heels, no jewelry, just a bare feet or some flat shoes. OMG so much fun.

Yes yes yes. I don't care what you say! Jumpsuit!

Tools

My brain is sore and tired.

This has gotten me out of more than a few work-related adversities. It's helped me out for the past ten years, the best advice I have ever heard:

Out of clutter, find simplicity.
From discord, find harmony.
In the middle of difficulty, lies opportunity.

- Albert Einstein's rules of work.

Ghosts II

You must be feeling the way I'm feeling
Cos' I haven't thought about you in a long time
You must be crying the way I'm crying
Cos' I haven't cried about you in a long time

I don't know, someone else can write the verses. All I want to do is lie here and think mean things.

Everyday magicks

Yesterday I cracked open an egg for my breakfast and lo! It had two yolks. I was very excited and scrambled for a camera to document the phenomenon, but couldn't find one. So you are just gonna have to take my word for it. And enjoy this here freaky picture of triple double yolks I found on the innernets.

The omellete I made was pretty much the same, if a little egg-ier.

It's LABOUR DAY for fuck's sake

Betta throws up her hands in disgust at herself, abandons work and goes for a walk in the park.