on art

art is strange in that it’s ultimately indefinable. there are endless genres and sub-genres that co-exist and interdepend on one another which is why it is so interesting to me. ‘being an artist’ initially brings up ideas of paint palettes splattered by primary colours but it’s funny how shallowly inaccurate that is. there are dancers and poets and speakers and beatboxers and gardeners and baristas and saxophonists and hairdressers and engineers….. etc etc etc. to me, art is whatever splutters out of your raw heart, no matter what form it takes.

my art has been leaning toward the more visual recently. colour and shape and composition seem to strike a chord that writing no longer does. that’s okay though; I’ve learned that these things always change so it’s best to make use of them while you can. here’s a graphic that I designed today. I’m still trying to figure out the significance behind the word itself but I like how it ended up. makes me feel happy.lucky 2.pngall the love x

epiphanies innit

you know that weird feeling you get when you finally realise something? the puzzle pieces in your brain finally click and you step back a little, astonished by the fact you’ve only just noticed the elephant standing in the corner. sometimes it’s slow, creeping up behind you, shadowing your footsteps until it fills your headspace. in other times, you feel like you just stumbled off a cliff and find yourself diving headfirst into this new strange world.

epiphanies are strange: those little eurekas that accumulate and stack up neatly in a drawer. for me, this past month has been full of them.

  1. no matter how much I refuse to ignore it, I do have a caffeine addiction.
  2. people are just people like trees are just trees and despite the irresistibility of  romanticism, sometimes you have to step back and forget about the poetry.
  3. those passing mundane conversations with strangers will brighten both your days.
  4. there are times when you need to bite the bullet and times you need to run far away.
  5. don’t worry; they don’t have a clue either.
  6. cleaning your room is never as bad as you think it is. get on with it.
  7. people change.
  8. I know a staggering amount of song lyrics. that is a good thing. losing my voice and dancing and laughing at parties with people I barely know is one of the best feelings ever.
  9. I buy too many things.
  10. regret is a terrible thing. even in the worst situations, find the silver lining. if all else fails, stop dwelling on it.

all the love x

five minute write

maybe she tastes like summer
and she is the dress you see swish
slipping away in your sun drenched dreams
and cherry lipstick blueberry eyes
she’ll tip your world downside up and
leave you spinning; she tastes like
daisies and syrupy sunlight and you
wonder how she manages to quench you yet
somehow leave an immutable feeling of
thirst.

dehydration and infatuation are deadliest in the summer

hellooooooo I wrote something again.

tie me down

i want airports with ‘arrival’ signs in every language, the sound of luggage wheels and the tuneless buzz of people.

i want the sky; i want to see all its different faces, colours, textures.

i want bumpy bus rides between the collarbones of ageless mountains and flurrying forests; a three hundred and sixty degree spectacle.

i want to feel sand between my toes; the almost silent swish of blue waves and calm sea.

i want to lie in a field of flowers with a tartan blanket and a friend.

i want late nights with a different kind of air in my lungs, different blood in my veins.

i want to be cold, fingers frozen while hiking through snow. i want to be hot, aching for the beach in a sunny place. i want to be everywhere in between. push me to the limits.

i want to be everywhere and see everything. i want to go without thinking of the endless variables that i would have to. one day, i will.

all the love x

 

 

i wrote a thing

this isn’t a poem.
this is me letting the tap run,
letting the red ink drip so
sweetly from my
love-stained fingertips.
this isn’t a poem.
this is me counting
all the times you made me smile
(they last me until the next time
i get to see your face again).
this isn’t a poem.
this is me romanticising
every atom of your body
my dear, your whole being
is a work of art.
this isn’t a poem.
this is my heart.
hello, i am sorry for not posting much recently. i think i’m too ingrained in life and that definitely isn’t a bad thing. don’t get me wrong; i will never stop writing.
all the love x

heartbreak?

during one of my instagram binges, i came across this quote:

what’s bad for the heart, looks good on the page.

this is one of the few times something i have scrolled past has stuck with me. the romanticism of heartbreak is widespread. why do we all (us romantics at least) love to read about pain and longing? it’s kinda twisted, isn’t it? however, strangely enough, I completely understand.

something as beautiful as a heart is bound to shatter into verse when it breaks. poetry. those nights when you are shaking with the desire to write; to validate all the thoughts spinning around your head (at least you can touch them when they’re on paper). I think those poems are the best: the ones dripping with emotion, barely legible.  for me, writing is therapy.

so how about from the reader’s perspective? I think it’s somewhat humbling to remind yourself that a stranger behind a page feels as deeply as you.

it’s beautiful.

raine x

 

the mission to mars

a few weeks ago, we all had to give a five-minute presentation to our classes on a topic that we are passionate about. here is mine:

for generations, humans have been captivated by the idea of space. we spend billions on spaceships, satellites and rovers, desperate to learn about the world outside our own. from the first apollo mission to voyager 1 just leaving the milky way, its impressive how far weve come. 
 
however, theres one project that stands out to me, and thatss the mission to mars. 
 
in 2011, two scientists laid the foundation to begin the mars one mission plan: a scheme aiming to establish a settlement on the red planet by 2032. a global campaign was created in order to find the next astronauts. these people need to be strong, both mentally and physically in order to succeed as an astronaut. out of thousands of applicants, a shortlist of one hundred have been selected and tested for their suitability. then, they are put through a series of tests and experiments to see if they can handle the tough conditions of space after that, and finally, a public vote is conducted to determine who gets to go first. 
 
these people are pretty amazing, to say the least. they are jumping at the chance to leave everything they know for a life on a new planet, fully aware of the high risks and inability to return to earth. are they crazy, or inspirational? and what makes them want to go so badly? 
 
when asked this question, founder of mars one bas landsdorp said that this mission is the realization of an amazing dream. the spirit of adventure and curiosity drives the team of pioneers, and i have to agree. there is something so irresistible about the idea of such a journey and the excitement of a new life. however, as well as this immense feeling of euphoria, there are many practical benefits to this mission. 
 
its no secret that human life on earth is extremely delicate. our population is booming and we arent exactly kind to this little planet we inhabit. at this rate, we need two earths just to sustain the rate at which we are consuming, reproducing and destroying. we are a species hell-bent on growth and development, on skyscrapers and iphones, while pretending not to notice the tolls its taking on our planet. we are in danger, to say the least. 
 
so i can see why the thought of a new planet is irresistible. the notion of a fresh start on an unmarked, un-scarred planet fills people with hope. they fantacise underground houses and domes filled with oxygen: maybe mars isnt so different to earth. we could restart the human race and just hope things dont end up the way they did on earth. 
 
i guess the question im trying to ask is: do humans deserve to inhabit another planet? we as a race are fundamentally flawed. conflict, discrimination and selfishness run through our veins and we cant seem to get it right. is there any way it would be possible to create a perfect life on another planet after the mess weve made of our own? 
 
but then again, whos to stop us? 
 
questions: 
would you want to go to mars? 
personally, id love to go because its such a unique and exciting idea; its a huge step for humanity and the technology weve developed to envision something like this and id be more than happy to go to mars. 
 
do you think the mission to mars deserves more funding? 
everyone has different opinions on that for many different reasons. the technology and equipment that this mission needs is extremely expensive, so theres an argument on whether it is more important than all the other issues we have on earth such as war and famine etc. personally, i think that we should focus on the planet we already have before venturing out to another.

all the love x

romanticism

dear you,

interdependence and inter-connection are two words that come to mind when i think of us (as well as intertwine, interstellar, intercede). i’ve just realised how important you are to me and how much i take you for granted, and i apologize for that.

so here it is; a love letter to you (because how better to romanticise romanticism?)

i’d firstly like to thank you for making me feel things as vividly as i do. honestly, it scares me sometimes; the extent to which i resonate with emotions and words and people;  but i’d rather have it magnified tenfold than live a life without it. you make me feel alive. you make me feel special and unique on this heavily populated little planet and i can’t tell you  how much that saves me.

i love loving. i love stitching my heart to as many sleeves as i can reach; painting it across the sky, hiding it in old creased pages. people ask me where i get my energy from, and i’ll reply with you. i can’t lie; it used to exhaust me. i used to come home drained and empty and starving, but how can you be happy with  no love left for yourself?

do you remember that time? that month: i think it was around october. i was so empty. you left, and i was so lost and broken and i fell harder than i’d ever fell before. you broke my heart. you buried yourself so deep into his chest; so stubborn to leave (i think some of you is still lost in him, beating softly in his ribcage, maybe pulsing through his fingers), but i managed to wrench you out. i woke up bloody and bruised but i want to thank you for healing so quickly. of course, scars never fade but i’m okay with that. i don’t want to ever forget that month.

thankfully, i’ve learned from it. i’ve re-calibrated and decided that i should be my own top priority. i need to save some love for myself, to keep my heart full despite pouring so much out for others. it seems to work; i am the happiest i’ve ever been.

i love you so much.

raine x