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.all the love x
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.
- no matter how much I refuse to ignore it, I do have a caffeine addiction.
- 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.
- those passing mundane conversations with strangers will brighten both your days.
- there are times when you need to bite the bullet and times you need to run far away.
- don’t worry; they don’t have a clue either.
- cleaning your room is never as bad as you think it is. get on with it.
- people change.
- 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.
- I buy too many things.
- 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
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