Sand Art

WATCH.

Hole Heart Puncher.

Do you know those days where you feel so happy and content and unsuspecting and then POW! You get punched in the heart.  Yeah they fucking suck.  I had one yesterday. Here is what I wrote:

Wasted from lack of sleep and muddy blood circulating through my soul.  The sediment just will not settle with this one.  The swamp monster strikes again with his hole heart punch leaving my confetti scattered all over the floor.  It sticks to everything and I can't even begin to fathom how to clean it all up.  The aftermath of the celebration should have not gone wrong.

"That confetti is my heart, please do not walk all over it", she cried in that weak voice people had tired of listening to. With a final sigh, "I have to piece it back together again.  Somehow."

All the air was sucked out of my lungs and I was trapped in the vacuum, with no beat, no brain left.  Bang. The blood returned.  I wanted to stay faint, barely breathing but the tears woke my eyes and brought the feelings back to my legs.  Run they said.  Run away, so far away they can not touch you, or ever find you ever, ever again.  They can not keep doing this.  Your skin will burn every time in the fire, it does not become familiar to your touch.  Smash anything in your way, my arms said, wrestle free and let no one tie those arms across your chest ever again.  Why are they repeating themselves?  Why do they expect a different response?  Why do they want to spin me around in circles and keep asking why I feel dizzy?  This is how it felt before.  A fucking repeat.

[That is what I think hell is. A repeat of everything over and over again.  Eternity of the same life over and over.  It does not matter if it was ever good.  Repeated, we become god without a chance.]

Enough now.  Enough.  That will do.  I want to dance now, slowly and gently in your arms, closing my eyes, hearing nothing but the rhythm of your music dancing in time with my feet, heartbeat.

Love N...........x

Punched.

Um. Ouch.

I beg to differ...

Um, have you seen the Rolling Stones lately?

Shaman: He who knows

I am the Heroine.

Communication is my needle.

And you are my addict.

love n.....x.

Phew.

 

Whatever the fuck that weight was that has been sitting on my chest.  

Thank-you, it has finally left. Phew!

Mark Ryden

Mark RYDEN 

[photo by Ann Cutting]

When I look at his art it gives me this quiet, fine, calculated, fantastical, sickly-sweet fusion of feelings and messages.  Everything he does for me just works.

I have never seen something I do not like by this man.

A peep at some work by RYDEN:

"If you enchant yourself, others will be too."  - Mark Ryden - October, 1998

Mark Ryden - he did the illustration for MJ Dangerous Album

[please don't sue me Epic Records]

[Heaven from the most recent 'Snow Yak' exhibition held in Tokyo]

I love his statements about why he often paints meat here. 

Free wallpaper here 

Buy RYDEN stuff here 

Fools GOLD.

Please take a boot. Probably a big steel capped shoe.  Take your favourite foot, the one with all your nicest toes and insert into said shoe.  Pause a moment. Then smile and kick me in the shin.  Now as I buckle please kick me in the heart.  At this point gently whisper, "you are a fool for believing......".

love n.....x.