First impressions: a broken doll, a gaping void in its back, tossed into the street… Then: a mirror, a face-like blank slate, reflecting nothing… Slowly we worked it out: a real body, a girl or a woman, holding a mirror to her face for protection. But protection from what? From us? From our gaze? We cling to the old adage that the face mirrors the soul. Give us your face, we demand. Bare your soul! She resists. Giving up the mirror would mean abandonning her dream. (Text of William A. Ewing, Face. The New Photographic Portrait, Lausanne, Musée de l’Élysée
Posted by ashley mcconnell at 25.1.11
This music is for lovers. For heart breakers and the broken-hearted.
Once you listen to these sounds, you will lay in bed better than you ever did before; haunted by thoughts of elevator lust and scarlet fever affection.
The music you are about to hear may hypnotize you.
Your mind and soul will feel like butter.
At first, you may question the sensation when the melody hits your eardrums and your organs become juicy and spongy.
Let the butter consume you and remind yourself to never fully give your heart to a woman that loves the blues.
BCBG dress, UO belt, gravity pope boots, CM braclets
Unfortunately, as of late, this blog has been the last thing on my ever-growing list of things to do.
My sense of balance has been set to the test and time is more of a commodity than ever before. I have been falling out of the week. Sundays are Mondays and Tuesday was last year's Thursday, and so on. Every morning for the last week or so, I wake up, slightly short of breath and running a checklist through my mind.
But, I suppose I'm not looking to have an undisturbed, quiet, nice kinda life. I am here to be tested, to overcome and to grow.
Nothing worth doing ever comes easy, right?
I did have a few moments of my own over the weekend, so I put on head to hip studs and hit up sexapalooza on a mission to find something saucy to get my mind off of work.
I hate to say it, but it was the most painful sort of ordinary. And last time I checked, ordinary was not a good way to describe sex.
If you want to read about my experience, you can check out an article about it Guerilla magazine's g-gallery.
As I type this I am listening to the wind shriek like a banshee outside my window.
Its snowing. Its January. And we have about two and a half months left of polar conditions and wind chill.
Yes people, the rumors are true. Canada is a place where frost bite is just status quo.
[at least for 5 months a year]
To combat the disparity that can be overcoming when looking out the window into the white abyss, I like to think of all the flimsy things I'm going to wear once spring time hits.
I particularly love the designer Veronica B Vallenes.
Every collection she produces is simply exquisite. All of her pieces are romantic, effortless and balanced. And her lookbooks are always styled impeccably.
I love the color palectte for her SS11 collection and am determined to incorporate as many headpieces as I can into my daily outfits.
allison wonderland jean dress, vintage belt, scarf and bracelets
I have more half-thoughts than full-thought today. Best to keep it short and sweet.
so well it's a spell, hell, makes me wanna shoop shoop shoop
Shoop shoop ba-doop
Shoop ba-doop ba-doop ba-doop
Shoop ba-doop ba-doop ba-doop
Nothing reminds me more of my childhood than the musical stylings of Salt n' Pepper. Remember them? I swear I spent a large part of my adolescent wearing a half-top, dancing the running-man in my room to Whatta Man.
Not only do I still know every lyric to every song on the album, Very Necessary, but I can thank S&P for much of my sexual enlightenment.
I didn't have the internet and I went to Catholic school. Nuff said.
Most of the time, I had no idea what S&P were rapping about, but I knew it was dirty. And I knew that if I remembered every word I would learn something.
And learn something I did...I think I've used the pick up like, 'can i get some fries with that shake shake booty' more time than I'd like to admit and you'd like to know. (but it works like a charm everytime)
For those who haven't heard, Salt n' Pepper are going on tour to commemorate the 25th anniversary of their album Hot, Cool and Vicious. Unfortunately, there are no Canadian tour dates, but who knows, maybe I could persuade a few of my homegirls to travel down to the states for a little shoop ba doop.
|the flea-robert hooke|
Lately, my evenings have been spent trying to untangle all the knots I've managed to tie my brain into during the day.
I've been writing about biology, and more specifically cells and micro organisms for work; and for those of you who follow this blog, you should know by now that science is not my forte.
For those just tuning in, my head is usually stuck firmly in the clouds, so microscopic living organisms and how they function are not something that holds my attention
But I came across a few beautiful biological illustrations by Robert Foote that grabbed my attention and sent me on a bio-inspired art hunt
|cork cells-robert hooke|
This certainly isn't my most inspirational outfit, but this was one of the last days where I was able to roam around the city like a fancy-free gypsy, during the regular working hours of 9-5, monday to friday. So wearing a baggy shirt, no pants and my deacde old moccasins seemed like the only suitable outfit.
It's been a long time coming, but I just started a new job at a writing company this week and I couldn't be happier. The job is amazing and I adore the people I work for, so I am feeling pretty pretty pretty content with life right now!
I know I have been a bit behind in replying to comments and I have not had the time to troll around all the blogs I usually read, but once I get my act together, rest assured I will get back to regular blogging ways.
Vintage hat and necklaces, American Apparel tights, FCUK sweater, mittens from Canteen, Winners scarf, gifted boots
A few weeks ago the very adorable Emily, from Tinfoils Tiaras, tagged me in a blog ritual to reveal seven things about myself. So, to oblige my blogger duties, here goes:
one. I have a fear of going blind.
two. In my early twenties, I once tried to start an all girl rock band called Lashes. I was learning drums and had some disillusioned idea that I could sing like Karen O.
Our first song was titled Cheetah. It was about a boy I dated who’s name was Cheetah. He told me he loved me within 36 hours of meeting one other, while in a hotel room with a few of our friends, over a game of poker and three fingers of bourbon.
I told him I was going to make him suffer and poison his idea of women - just to scare him off.
He said he still loved me.
We broke up a few weeks later and from what I heard he impregnated a stripper soon afterwards.
The band's second single was going to be called Lunar Masturbation.
three. I say, 'it is what it is.' A lot.
four. I am smart as a whip when it comes to navigation.
five. I have a weakness for oysters, black lingerie, boots, tales of romance, midnight dips in the ocean/pool/lake and sitting rooftop at night
six. I don't believe in god. I believe in humanity. I believe in art. I want to believe in generosity.
seven. I always have an escape route.
When I am walking past an unmarked van, I STOP and make sure to go AROUND the van and walk on the driver's side rather than the side with the sliding door where I could possibly be snatched.
When walking down a dark alley or a quite street, I check for the first house or building with lights on. The first place in running distance.
I once read an online forum where parents were talking about now if they keep their kids fat and homebound, they will be less likely to be kidnapped because they will be less cute but much smarter.
I'm not sure how i feel about this but,
hindsight 20/20 doesn't count if you're dead.