Suffering (& Doritos)

This is not a very cheerful topic, but it's what I was thinking about as I opened a new blog post, so it's what I'm posting about. I think I must've gone through lots of stages of life telling myself life will be better if I do this or that, or once I'm [insert age here], or if the sun shines through a prism and reveals the secret code to the underworld, allowing me to get to the bottom of an age old mystery and free a ghost from its tormented past whilst feeding said ghost Doritos (because Doritos bring final peace).

The unfortunate truth, however, is that suffering is at some point inevitable and that while some things can alleviate some sufferings, there is no way to banish all of it forever from your realm. So we're stuck with stupid suffering that dances around all the fun parts of life like a creepy squirrel waiting to accost you outside the park gates.

It just gets me sometimes, that we were born to feel a heap of pain in our lives. I mean yes, there are good things and good feelings and all that, but sometimes I just feel like because pain and suffering exists at all that existence is really gross. Sometimes I actually get offended that I was born. As if I was created by some evil wizard who loves watching small children get papercuts.

It's so frustrating because I so want to be the protagonist of a novel who smashes suffering (which is probably some sort of big crystal orb) into a million pieces, but I can't, because that's not real. You just don't get to be a person without it. And sometimes I wonder what's the point of having all the good things like kittens and sunsets when they're sitting right next to suffering.

It's frustrating. Here's my vague attempt at some weird form of positivity, then. We usually like to keep quiet about it. About all the pointy little pieces of suffering that caught us. And if suffering is an inevitable part of living then maybe the best thing to know sometimes is that it's okay to be suffering. You're justified in your pain, even if it seems to come from a stupid place. You're justified in crying over spilt milk. Also, Doritos still exist regardless of you pain, if that helps at all. I should probably say that this post isn't sponsored by Doritos. I'm not sure 'suffering' is quite on-brand for them at the moment. It could be a nice marketing angle for 2016 though (call me).

Grumpy Child

I have some school stories to share today. Below is a picture of me drawn by the son of the guy who ran my after school club. He drew the version on the right first and I told him it wasn't realistic, so he proceeded to draw the version on the left. Much better. The accuracy is stunning.

I loved the after school club because it gave me the opportunity to eat biscuits, play with the Fisher Price dolls house, and play a game on the computer which I think was Jet Set Willy. I was clearly very excited about biscuits during that time in my life, because I would demand more and more biscuits, and when I was refused I crafted an alternate criminal persona: The Biscuit Thief (complete with a Zorro style face mask. Somehow, this actually worked, and I operated a devastating monopoly on the consumption of biscuits during my time there. I was in my element in those days.

This was when I went to my first school, which is quaintly named Hollymount. I was only there for a year, but apparently that was a pretty good time for me. I remember our teacher giving us handkerchiefs as presents when we were leaving. I got a teal coloured one with dalmatians on it, from Disney's 101 Dalmatians.

I remember my friends and I used to play this game at break times where we would pretend to be cats. We crawled around on all fours with our fingers carefully curled in under our palms, because outstretched fingers meant you had your claws out. I also remember the time Adam Schneider asked me if me real name was Willy and I was like, "yeah."

And then there was the time when I lovingly crafted a banjo for myself out of sugar paper and fully played a half an hour concert with it on the playground to a crowd of kids and faculty members who were transfixed. Unless that was one of those fake memories that didn't really happen. Childhood was weird.

ONLY

I made some simple magazine collages with just a few bits and pieces. I always gravitate towards natural objects and bodies and textures, and I like the aesthetic of hair and leaves here.

I've tried imagining what it might be like to be a plant. Imagine if we could grow leaves and flowers on our bodies. That would be nice. I'd grow daisies across my forearms.

I think plant bodies and human bodies work well together. It's a nice juxtaposition. Different forms of life. Fragmented pieces of a planet.

Plant and person bodies are so cool and interesting. We both have veins. We both drink sunlight in different ways. I feel like trees just get me.

The Paint Tells Me Secrets

I've been painting lots of of abstract compositions again lately. It's so relaxing. I've been wondering what I would be doing all the time without a computer and I think the answer would involve a lot of painting. It's something I lapse back into and it always feels peaceful and natural and almost unconscious. I'd like to fill rooms with paintings and live in a house that had a walk-in gallery attached to it, and there would just be paintings everywhere. Taped up on the walls. You could come in and buy a cup of fruit tea and anything you could see, and there'd be shelves filled with zines and small drawings and collages and mystery packages with bows tied around them. It'd be great.

I like the idea of having paintings and pictures all around me, or colourful landscapes like Yayoi Kusama. I guess that's why I stick art up all over my bedroom walls, although I like clean white space too. It doesn't really matter what the space looks like as long as all the colour is inside me. That's what I think about computers too. It doesn't matter if I'm online or not, because I'm here, within myself. It doesn't matter if I keep my art, because I can make more and more and more, so I don't need to keep evidence. It feels good knowing that external things aren't necessary. I'll keep them if I want them, but I don't need them. I guess that's a principle tenet of minimalism, and it's all bound up in being sure of yourself.

It's always nice to know you don't need something. I'm grateful and glad for various things, like art supplies and Crowded House, but I'm sure I would live without them. I feel confident that I would be okay if I was somehow removed from the world and left to make my own one. That's what painting tells me.

✿

♬

TV: Scream Queens

I've been watching Scream Queens recently, and from the opening shots of a girl walking through a 1995 sorority party with her hands covered in blood set to Bat for Lashes' 'What's A Girl To Do?' I loved it. This show is crass and ludicrous, but has such good pacing and clever one liners and perfect outfits that it extends its own campiness into something that feels bright and rich. It reminds me of the 2002 Scooby-Doo movie and also a bit of Glee, if it were funnier and spookier and more self aware.

The costuming is great. There are lots of pinks and pastels and silks and fuzzy fabrics. I can see a little chunk of early 2000s fashion influence (this is probably a big part of why it reminds me of Scooby-Doo). I'm reminded of body glitter and clear lip gloss. Ariana Grande slots nicely into it with her high ponytail and go-go boots. She guest stars as one of sorority house president Chanel's underlings. The cartoonish, gory bits of the show work well against a backdrop of cutesy and naive 2000s aesthetic. It's not the kind of show I'd usually watch, but I was really surprised with this and I love it.

5 Tips: How To Maintain A Blog

Blogging can be a struggle, much like eating five chocolate mousses in one go, but both of these challenges can be overcome if you are persistent, so I have a delightful list of strong tips here for anyone who is feeling a bit like they'd rather drink hot sauce through their eyes than write another blog post.

I know that feel, bro.

1. Craft a medicinal balm/blog-focusing spell from one of Taylor Swift's eyelashes, some beeswax, eyeshadow shade 'Toasted' from the Urban Decay Naked palette, a rose gold sculpture of a pug, and page sixty two from 'Girl Online' by Zoe Sugg. Rub the resulting mixture into your scalp so it can seep into your brain and encourage it to concentrate on blogging instead of other useless things like washing dishes or sleeping.

2. Open a new post and literally just write about the first thing that appears in your head. Did you think of caterpillars? Then enjoy crafting a post all about the delights of caterpillars and how they inspire you. Don't forget to make a caterpillar out of a toilet roll tube to illustrate your blog post!

3. Consider every action in your life a potential thing to review. Wore socks? Review them! Ate a sandwich? Review it! Irritating your family members? Review them! If your uncle isn't thrilled with a rating of four stars, don't worry. Journalistic integrity is more important than flimsy familial ties. Get a new uncle from some PR desperate to promote 'cheapuncles4u.com'.

4. Actually, just write anything. Only Jessica is reading, and she doesn't mind what you write. Hi Jessica.

5. Do a bunch of cutesy mood boards of Dani from Cradle of Filth. They will bring you and your blog luck.

A successful blogger doing some successful and important blogging.

After you have tried all of these brilliant pieces of advice you should be back in the swing of things. Don't look at me like that.

Odd / Red

I found an old painting, just a landscape of red and purple brush strokes colliding into this beautiful, dark, rich colour composition. It reminds me of beetles and jewels. At the same time I found an old zine I made, full of printed webcam pictures all muted on paper and filled with soft white light and the paleness of my skin enveloped in that light. So I made these collages to put the two things together. The sweet and tender bedroom shots with the feverish blood of the paint.

I love washed out and clean and sleepy colour palettes and vibes, empty white bathrooms and gently gathered bedsheets. Grey skies and delicate candlelight. Fog and sweeping swathes of sheer fabric. But just as much as that I also love chaotic and clattering visual landscapes, shifting, looming waves and creaking planets. Angry magma and explosions and wine and velvet. I like to unravel all these things together, to see them nestled up against each other.

I see red and icy red.