Booyah! // Emotions and all that love jazz...

I like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
I like your body. I like what it does,
 I like its hows. I like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you quite so new

- E E Cummings.

This has got to be one of my favourite poeeeeeeeeeems! definitely very risqué, but what is a painting without colours?  

Have I mentioned recently how I am one of those people that love/wholly understand the power of imagery in literature?

Well. Yeah. Just wanted to let you all in on a bit of my Literary obsessions. Enough about the fashion for now lol.

"Scout, do you know what a compromise is?"// Photo-spiration...

Gregory Peck  and Mary Badham as Atticus and Scout Finch in the movie adaptation of Harper Lee's To Kill  A Mockingbird.

One of my favourite movies of ALL time. The book? I remember having to read it for my Lit GCSEs and absolutely falling IN LOVE with all the characters. Scout reminded me so much of myself as a kid: Wide eyed and full of  all sorts of wild ideas...

*Not much has changed there though. I'm still over excited and let my imagination run amok most times.

The characters were just too shweet! And poor ole' Boo Radley...

P.S: If you haven't read To Kill A Mockingbird, I strongly suggest you do. Very gripping tale of racism and life in the 30s. Vivid, compelling imagery about a little insular town in Northern America. 

Or, watch the movie, if you're lazy. But I recommend the book!

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view. Until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”

Excerpt from the book

Oooh... Picture taken off Tumblr. 

MY tumblr, to be exact. Haaa! I know what you're thinking, I joined the bad  band wagon. But it's summer, or at least when England decides to realise this it will be. And such things are allowed. 

I quite like it you know; Tumblr! (click the link above to have a gander if you'd like! )

Okay. Enough. 

Toodles!

xoxo

Double OhemGee...

Jeffery Bale is a mastermind. His gardens are a depiction of his artistic skills and a medium through which he expresses his creative flair; inspired by all kinds of architecture and art and generally just life.

I want one of these gardens. So perfect for reclusion, and I guess, when you actually want people to intrude on your piece of paradise...

I doubt I would ever let anyone in my garden/ zen place if it looked like any of those...

Seriously in awe...

All pictures stolen off his blog... go check it out! (click his name)

More Lanvin, less Coq au Vin...

There is INDEED no correlation between a haute couture fashion powerhouse and French cuisine, well, other than the blatant fact that they are both French. But... Yeaaaah.

I just really wanted to write 'Coq Au Vin' in my title really.

Onto the fashion! My favourite looks from the Lanvin Resort 2012 collection. No one does Paris chic better than true Parisians themselves. I'm loving all the juxtapositions; the model in the yellow dress (Who looks like Abbey Lee... Or is it just me eyes?) swathed in such elegance striking a playful pose, the lady in tweed from head to toe whose skirt is micro mini, annnnnd the gypsy Esmeralda hippie!

We all know how I feel about hippies by now do we not? If not, I shall be back with my tale of Seyi's virtual hippie life. Soon. Watch this space.

Plus, Alber Ebaz is showing some kiddie love in this new Lanvin Kids collection. How adorable!

Such poise from a young 'un! Awww!

Yeah. Enough of the oohs and aahs for now.

Till Laterrrrrr!

xoxo

*P.S All images from fashionologie.com

Lies and Other Drugs...

You know when I bade you lovely inhabitants of blogsville farewell with the excuse of needing to study, I really meant it. I was in such a good, positive 'I have a dream' mood, that I honestly thought focusing on my revision and school work would be all I could think about till my exams started.

But. The title of this post has so very cleverly (If I may say so myself, haha) let you in on the fact that I might  have been lying. 'Cos my 'revision' proved to be somewhat futile. Amidst all the good food, and soaking up as much sun as possible (WE BRITS HAVE SUNSHINE IN APRIL! It is assuredly the weirdest thing to witness, I tell you),  and, welll procrastination, I have only managed about a day with my head in the good ole' books.

I KNOW! Poor. Horrid. I'm not being serious. I'm not prioritising. But other things seem much more, MUCH  MORE appealing, than being holed up at home revising.

Sooo... Well... I've been up to other interesting things instead. Like visiting my beautiful friend's amazing shop and exclaiming over how darling everything is. If I could take this shop home, trust me. I would have done. It is exquisite, and the decor, as you can tell from the picture above, is fantastic.

...Oh... And there's a picture of me, I guess, trying to capture the grandeur of the mirror in the shop... I love ornate Grecian mirrors. Wish I could buy every single one I come across.

Anyhowzzz, I gotta go for now. Last night with the Mother, and she wants a bit of a bonding session before we jet back off to university. Fun stuff. Just a quick update. More on the elusive 'amazing shop' to come. How cool! My first feature, shall we call it that.

Happy Easter!

love and tomato juice!

We are all intrinsically made to be SOMEONES...

This is what I have observed to be good: that it is appropriate for a person to eat, to drink and to find satisfaction in their toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God has given them—for this is their lot.  Moreover, when God gives someone wealth and possessions, and the ability to enjoy them, to accept their lot and be happy in their toil—this is a gift of God. 

Ecclesiastes 5: 18-19  

Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for God has already approved what you do. Always be clothed in white, and always anoint your head with oil. Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun—all your meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun.Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the realm of the dead, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom.

Ecclesiastes 9:7-10

... These Bible verses speak volumes to me, not because it almost condones hedonism by encouraging us to eat, be merry and make babies, but because of what I think is the main message of the whole book of Ecclesiastes. This life is not promised to us. I go through random days of nothingness sometimes, wallowing in self-pity, wondering where life is going to take me, assuming that the next day is promised to me. I neglect the simple things - simple things like the fact that I love painting, but haven't drawn since high school because I think it's a waste of time. Or the fact that I write poetry, but only limit myself to thinking these things up when I'm either earth shatteringly depressed, or in like/immensely feel something for someone. Not when things seem fine. Or, the fact that I sing, but for years, I've hidden under the 'I'm too shy' banner, thus doing nothing with what God has given me. 

There is talent embedded within every soul. Every being on earth has something or some things that make them happy, or things that cause that little twitch of excitement in their eyes once mentioned or once fulfilled. I know I get excited when people talk about the 20s. Or the 40s... Okayyyy... 50s, 60s, 70s.... all the eras except the actual one I was born in. My eyes widen, I begin talking even more so than I already do, indecipherable words like 'Oooh and Queen Nefertiti was blah blah blah', 'oooh, let me tell you about the Nubian kingdom', 'do you know that 20s fashion is still what we're thriving on in the twenty - first century?'.

So. My point? My point, ladies and gentlemen is: Find that thing that makes your eyes twitch with excitement. The one thing that elicits happiness just by your accomplishment of it, no matter how small and unimportant it might seem to everyone else. The gift(s) you can use to your happiness, your sanity, your fulfilment, to keeping your mind sane in this insane world we live in. 

We keep trying to find happiness by doing the same things, in the same ways others have done before us. Even if it has been done, or is being done by everyone already, the world has not experienced that same thing through YOUR EYES.  What do you do that the world does not know yet? DO IT AND LET THEM KNOW! YOUR TALENT IS WORTH BEING SHARED WITH THE WORLD. Your shower head probably loves when you croon softly, with your majestic voice to it, but is tired of being the only one hearing your amazing voice. Your friends and/or your diary are getting agitated by you only sharing your genius ideas with them only and not the rest of the world.

GO OUT THERE, AND BE THE YOU GOD WANTS YOU TO BE. Happiness? You want happiness? FIND YOU. AND DO YOU. Happiness is an easy A after that.

... Now I gotta go. Because, in staying true to myself, I have poured hot coffee all over myself. Gosh. Now that I have shown you what an incurable, clumsy kid I am, I might as well be back with the story of how I walked into a door and busted my lip a few weeks back. This being 'cool' façade is slowly beginning to wear thin.

Aloha friendies! 

God bless!

xoxo

'It seemed to her such nonsense - inventing differences, when people, heaven knows, were different enough without that. '

So, I have this crazy habit of publishing a post and then viewing it once it has been published on ze blog. And I realised something. This blog is really, going nowhere. It has no beginning, no precise message; sometimes it is about art, other times it is pretty much about nothing. Which is more often than not. And then I start thinking about what exactly the main essence, if you like, this blog of mine is about, who exactly it resonates with, and why the hell... I mean heck, I keep writing on here. 

Sorry for being rude. Hello, happy Sunday everyone. Hope you are feeling fine. I want to make you happy... Sorry, again. Singing a song in writing? Weirdness. 

 Erm. As I was saying in writing, I am still trying to figure out where exactly this blog is going. And considering the fact that I am possibly, the world's worst planner-aheader (sorry. But if Shakespeare could make up words, then so can I), I still cannot tell you where I want this thing to go. Which pretty much sums up my little life. And no, this does not mean that I don't have direction or whatever the Dalai Lama would call my situation. In my case, I think this lack of "direction" stems from being a dabbler. Yes. That is what I would like to think it is. I dabble. A lot.

You see, I am a chronic learner. I want to know it all. But not in an arrogant, I-have-to-know-everything-so-I-can-show-you-how-much-better-I-am-than-you kind of quest for knowledge, more like, my mind just yearns for constant information (At least I hope I am not arrogant. If I seem that way, then please, do forgive me). I want to see things like the Ancient Roman Ruins and Michelangelo's 'David', and stand there for ages taking awful tourist-y pictures and appreciate Michelangelo's bravery, for hacking off the part of his sculpture that drew the most attention. I want to walk along a Parisian side walk and buy pain au chocolat from a real French boulangerie; speak the little French I can remember and have the locals make awful fun of me. I want to go to Italy, and marvel at the sheer sophistication of Italian ladies and eat real pesto. And learn how to sew properly, and possibly, how to work a camera. And soak in as much of Gaudi and Salvador Dali as my brain would let me in Spain. And meet Miuiccia Prada and Anna Dello Russo, because I still haven't met a woman who has leopard print wallpaper in her home, and wears a daring lacy number like she did and still be on my 'Women That I Respect list'. Miuiccia, because, despite my vehement dislike of her fall 2010 shoes, I can understand it from an 'artistic' perspective. But her quirk works for me, so much so that I would not mind if my wedding dress were covered in a million nude women. LOL. My mother would hyperventilate of humiliation, were that to happen.

Erm. Cobra shoes? I think i'll pass. They'd look nice to hang my jewellery on however. (MiuMiu, fall 2010; style.com)

There are, obviously, countless other things I want. Flimsy little things like owning a puppy named Daffodil, a little kitten (Still unsure of what I would call it), as well as living in Peru whilst tending to dolphins. Oh, and a couple of goldfish as well. Quite a couple, actually. Goldfish make me happy. However, these things do not technically, fit the stereotypical characteristics of a person who is at university studying Pharmacy, do they? No, they do not. My university friends look at me surprisingly and annoyingly when I have my momentous outbursts about supposedly flimsy topics, or when I sit for hours reading out '1920s: A complete account of the Jazz Age' aloud whilst we're trying to study genetics. Even my mother and brother look at me with bewilderment most of the time. And, although I have come to the conclusion that I am a bit on the weird side, I cannot help but wonder why it is that I feel so passionate about things that others do not care the slightest bit about, or why others seem to assume that the reason behind one's "difference" if I may call it so, is simply a questfor attention.

Altogether, I guess what the main point of yet another pointless rant is that no one is as we expect them to be. No one is everybody, if that makes sense. It made more sense in my head than written down. What I mean, is that ultimately, there are no two people on earth who are alike in every way possible anyway, not even identical twins. Difference is an inherent trait in humans, so much so that we cannot comprehend who we ourselves are really, yet try to understand others and explain who THEY are. I do not know what exactly it is that has caused such heavy sentiment on my part; maybe because I have lived a big chunk of my life trying to be someone I am not in the hopes that I please everyone. Maybe it is because I am so scared that the path of life is not straightforward and this lack of direction terrifies the hell.. I mean heck out of me. Or maybe I am, like every other twenteen (nineteen and eight months, to be precise) year old teenage-adult out there in the world, coming to the realisation that life is one mystical bubble of mixed experiences. I really do not know what it is. But what I do know is this: I am glad that I am finding out, slowly but surely where I fit into in this world.

...I guess this is another lesson this long, sometimes hot summer has taught me also. That I am the only ME, there is. Or something.

Oh, and, once I have figured out where this blog is going, I shall be excited to tell you. But right now, it's going with the wind. Do bear with me.

Laterwafer!

xoxo

* Title- excerpt from Virginia Woolf; 'To the Lighthouse'. 

Retrospective Verbosity...

There is a lot to be said about the long, hot (if you live somewhere other than the United Kingdom, then the 'hot' there is referring to your country. Not England. Mother Nature hates us) summer months. Serotonin levels are in excess, causing even the unsmiling faces to crack a centimetre of a smile. The lady at the corner store (gosh. Americanisms. We'll get to that eventually) even stops to tell you about her latest foray into literature; and educates you about the writing genius that is Stephenie Meyer, thus allowing you to share an unbreakable bond that could only have arose by talking about Edward Cullen and Bella Swan. Old ladies stop you whilst food shopping to relay their frightful experiences of being grabbed and assaulted by the police for supposedly stealing a box of plums from M&S, and her becoming a millionaire as a result.

Yes. There is, inevitably a lot to be said about summer. There is the build up to it, the conversations during all that nice hotness, and then the never ending chitchat afterwards in anticipation of the next summer. More Vitamin D and burned barbequed dinners; more body parts on show, and more time devoted to Eastenders and Peggy Mitchell. Or maybe The Vampire Diaries and Damon Salvatore, in my case. And now that it all seems to be coming to an end, I cannot help but rant and look back at how educative this summer has been for me. I have learnt such valuable life lessons, and I shall, in turn, take the time out of my VERY BUSY schedule (yeah... right) to educate the people who may or may not read this.

Let us begin.

I have learnt that... 

• Twitter, is a little, magical world of its own. There, you can stalk celebrities first hand, as it turns out that they are in fact, HUMANS, and are prone to talking excessively and writing unimportant rubbish like us normal folk do. Some pour out their hearts more than others, and tell you how humiliating one's self on national television and making Taylor Swift cry has caused people to feel disillusioned by his music. And goes on about it for the whole day. 

   Others, use it as an avenue for further self promotion by retweeting what nice little fans write about how amazingly beautiful and humble they are, which ultimately gets the poor little fan a follow back from such a MIGHTY CELEBRITY. A Few, show the world their obvious lack of intelligence and finesse, by tweeting lewd remarks and calling all females 'bitches' at every chance available, whilst making grammatical errors and spelling mistakes even five year- olds dare not make. This is of course, no other person other than the great author of all things stupid, 50CENT himself. You see, only Twitter has made me privy to such first hand information about these demi-gods of our celebrity- hungry society and how unfortunate it is that we have put these creatures on imaginary pedestals. Because they are normal people, with the exception of Kat Stacks and Montana Fishburn. Oh, and Nicki Minaj.  (This is all of course, in my humble opinion. *cackles*)

• It is impossible to live in an impenetrable bubble that blocks out all the bad things in life. And I am writing this having tried to live this way. Leprechauns do not really exist, and neither does the supposed 'pot of lucky gold' they are said to posses. It is foolhardy to live in pretence. Unfortunate, though, seeing as I live vicariously through my imaginations. Which is not really a mature way to go through life, especially seeing as I am going to be prescribing medication to actual humans sometime soon. Life is unfortunately, very unfair. Sometimes "what you want might make you cry, and what you need might pass you by" (words stolen from Ms Hill, there). That is just the way the world was created. Time to dance to the beat of life (if that is how the saying goes). Gosh. Deepak Chopra would be proud of my self-help attitude (another person I've been introduced to via twitter, Deepak Chopra is).

• Sometimes, it is always good to keep quiet and let others do the talking. It is imperative to realise that others also have a right to express themselves without intrusive opinions from others. In other words, being  a know-it-all is a dangerous trait to personify, simply because no one person knows it all. Such arrogance only ends up in you making a fool of yourself for the whole wide world to see. That is, if you tweet such things.

• It is very okay to make a fool of yourself in public, preferably at work where your co-workers can witness it. Oh, and the customers. Boosts self esteem... or something.

• Insecurities are a bad, bad thing that never leave. Ignoring them does not make them go away. In fact, I don't think they ever go away. We both co-exist, it's just a matter of making the little buggers realise that I have the upper hand. Hmmph.

• Everyone is American these days. Pseudo-Americanisms are a way of life, just go with the flow, man. Jump on out of bed and turn your swag on. LOL!

• Dora the Explorer is apparently an illegal US immigrant. The things you learn when there's nothing to do. Oh dear God.

There's more to be said about the enlightening powers of summer 2010, but I shall stop here. I am prone to talk more than is necessary. It has been a long and amazing in its own little way; eye-opening and yet lazy at the same time. It seems all so far away now, the beginning of summer, ecstatic about finishing exams but praying to make it to second year. Happy about the long summer days, yet hoping to find a job. More for the money than the actual labour, however. Purchasing clothes and shoes that would have to be packed up soon during the winter months (unless you are me and just layer up during winter ), but spending a fortune buying them regardless. 

It is safe to say, that my summer has been long, awesome, and full of ennui. And I have loved every minute of it.

Since this post has been laced with far too many words, I figure a little visual would help ease the atmosphere of too much talkations (Sorry! )

I think it is time for me to leave now, and not come back till, well... whenever really.  Bring on the countdown to Christmas baby!

Okay, so 

In a bizzle wizzle,

S.

xoxo

All I know is I came on here to gush about an artist I like...

Sorry, but at times like these, especially seeing as i've been at work all day (wee..lll, since midday really, but who cares), i'm not really in that state of mind to conjunct words that express my 'ability' to string words together in a creative... ahem... manner as to talk about this particular artist. Instead, I have opted for the normal, brisk approach; to simply say it as it is.

So. The artist in focus is my main man, Basquiat. Not that I know knew him or anything, for such a personal and colloquial introduction on my part, but I guess therein lies the beauty of art: The realisation that a person can create an avenue of mixed feelings, thoughts and persuade you to share in the world they have created, thereby  making you feel okay with addressing esteemed artists and the like as your "main man". Or maybe I am alone in this. Am I?

 'Catharsis' (1983)

Jean - Michel Basquiat, is main man's name, by the by. I would give you a run down of his life and times, but that is what Wikipedia is for, homies. And Google. So crack on, if you must!

 I originally came across his artwork in my secondary school art class, looking for inspiration as to what my final year piece would be. And my teacher, drawing from her observation of my obsession with mixing mediums, directed me towards this mastermind. What looks like scribbles on canvas, or perhaps could be likened to a child's rendition of reality, is what immediately strikes you about his work. (it also pays to note that he draws inspiration from Picasso. Hello, cubism?). Yet, the heavy undertones of politics and society and just life in general as he sees it are evident, but, in a way, almost easy to miss due to excessive overload of information per piece. Almost like a poem or literary piece... or something, that you need to unravel (in many different ways) in order to understand the message being passed across.

'Bird on Money' (1981)

got from here. 

'Untitled' (1981) ... I see phallic imagery everywhere...you?

Umm... Awes..ome self portrait there dude. The hair is rather.... fetching.

There is nothing cohesive, no consecutive train of thought about his artwork. Yet, meshed together, the odd combinations produce this quirky infusion of randomness and brings out something so obviously individual. Which makes him a cool cat in my books.

Unfortunately, his heroin addiction got the better of him, and he died at such a young age from an overdose. Aged 27. So did Edie Sedgewick, Warhol's muse. And Basquiat knew Warhol also. Perhaps he was a jinxed fellow. Who knows.

Well... I must leave you be for now!
See you soonish? Maybe?
Yes.
A bien tot.
xoxo!