Knife @ MindSay

So for some reason ive been thinking life would be better if i jus kinda wasnt here ne more. like gone..dead..mom wouldnt have to worry about shelling out money she doesnt have for me, my roomate can have a roomate that doesnt have to worry about their financial sitch fuckking up and like everyone wuld be better off. im thinking i shuld just pack up my shit and leave..ima miss it here like nothing else but i feel like everything is crashing around me and i dont know what the fuck to do. i sent out like 10 applications for work, and most places and calling ppl till mid oct, ive sent in resumes all summer and no repsonse...and its all cuz i dont have any experience. aim turning into quitethe emo kid and that upsets me. and this fucking knife wont cut like my trusty exacto knife..which left me. i have no idea where it is. i miss it. ugh, im gonna go play with this dissapointment of a knife now. if i blog again then u know what decision i made.

 

Needs an name...... 12"x12" Oil on Wood Panel. High Texture (still drying!)

 

Okay, explanation for this: My art is usually highly detailed drawings, but with broken bits in my working hand it made me curious if I could use the rearrangement of said hand to get a wholly new style going..and so I got this. It's probably my favorite at the moment. Onto the rant, then shall we go? There's a story to this....

 

 

This was inspired by a little Fuck the Bastard  party I went to (and helped plan)...for this amazing gal...

 

 After the fun, games, music and endless margaritas I noticed her dilemma is like evryone else's. We all have those things we are taught from childhood that must be considered, and those life experiences and outside influences to counter balance the. What you have is a pure soul stuck in the inbetween, trying to blossom amidst all the conflicting scenarios, and I had just (hours before painting this) met a perfect example of a fantabulous soul, but there's that crushing chaos surrounding her again...

 

SO we had the party for her, and I think she knows how loved she is. As for me, my wish is that hopefully she'll grow strong and bloom, putting the chaos below her dreams so that she can achieve them, and the strangeness of starting over and the disconnected trust issues above her head at a safe distance.

It's so very hard to grow into the person one really is inside when over your head looms threats, fear, and bad memories and below are all the opinions and status quo - disassociation isn't always possible, either. That's when a strong, glorious tree gets strangled and stumped by weeds and those who would seek suffocation of dreams and hope, and they who'd harm an individual for not following the preset paths. This one soul, she's going to be alright. She's sheltered, supported, and very well thought of.

She's got a bubble of friends who love her..she'll bloom there with love and care..I hope.. ?
Alone, she can become and do *anything*. I did it in 2 hours, after returning from a party...

 

Now she is not alone - we all have been taught things as kids we had to reprogram our thinking to let go, and to adapt to be who we are. Life experiences change our very being every day - I do not belive that as long as outside influences can touch a person, that individual can truly be a pure spirit, unenhanced nor brought to conclusion by peer pressure and memories. It can help, or hinder. What you do with it is what matters.

 

Will you surround yourself with only those who wish to rise up from below and pull you down?

 Or come crashing upon your head with inescapable fury and demands?

Or maybe, just maybe, keep a small bubble about your mind and emotion that is enforced by those who want to herlp, who love, cherish and uplift you? I think we all need a bubble to really grow - what say you, my friends?

 

*hugs from Arkansas*

Lilli

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Dixie currently feels:

 Depressed

 

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Blog #28

Ash to the slaughter!

 

 

I figured how to solve the white noise problem on my radio alarm.

The station was tuned to NOTHING. So I just had a faff on with it, switched it to SOMETHING.

Now I keep getting woken up by some random woman ranting on about traffic jams and spending time with her grandma - but it's better than shitty white noise.

 

Dad took me to college - then I sat around playing Solitaire on my iPod - waiting for my appointment with Dianne.

They're starting to become more meaningful now we've started looking deeper into previous occurances - mainly life between 5 and 15.

All seems reasonable - and I didn't cry this week, so that was good.

 

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I retreated back to the table I was previously sat on - reverted back to Solitaire - thus proper kaning my iPod battery even more.

Ashleigh turned up - talked with her for 20 minutes before her Art lesson. Shelly appeared too - and Zoe soon followed. The last time Zoe sat with us, I didn't speak.

 

I seemed in a weird mood today - I didn't stop talking.

I didn't stop laughing either - she had me in constant fits - her accent is hilarious and she comes out with some really random shit as well.

 

And she bestowed the title of "most random person she's ever spoken to" onto me. :)

I responded to this with a 5 minute silence, then turning to Shelly and saying: "...ARE YOU GONNA SELL YOUR CRABS ON EBAY?!" - Zoe pissed. :)

 

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Initiating our usual plan - we went into town - I got another orgasmic sandwich, only to be verrrrrrrry disappointed.

There was too much mustard in it - thus making everything soggy and a weird colour and taste.

 

For my Photography project - I had to venture into the Dundas butchers - buy yet another pig's heart.

This one was 47p - but it was considerably larger than the previous one.

 

Returning to college - we sat around munching on various chocolate products we'd all gotten from Home Bargains.

On the way back, Ashleigh had kept randomly breaking off squares of Bournville - handing them to me over her shoulder. She chose the best times too - under Albert Bridge and the walkway before college. Usually at these places, I start to ache - mainly my arms and my shoulders from maintaining the wheelchair pushing posture for too long. :)

 

I got some Highland Toffee - but it was too cold, so it was hard and snapped into little pieces, rather than melted and went all gooey. I should have kept it warm in my pocket or summat...

Oh, and I got a marshmallow-filled chocolate egg - it was called summat Princess - so I kept saying: "OOOH LOL I'M A PRETTY PRINCESS..." - then naturally, pissing myself laughing.

 

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When Photography arrived - thankfully I was made to work in the art rooms - and everyone else sodded off to town.

I had to share a camera with Ash, since she was working inside for her project too.

This wasn't bad - Ash and I can co-operate, and when she was taking her photos, it gave me a chance to make alterations to my compositions.

 

Paul had set up a plank of wood over a wooden frame for me to work on - and this was positioned beside the computer line.

There was initially a gap between myself and the others working on the computers - but then this random lass came and sat beside me on one of the PCs.

 

I really must have been hyper from the chocolate and Coke - I turned to her, smiled and said: "I hope you don't have a weak stomach."

She goes: "...Not really, no... Why?"

I raise the bag slightly.

"...What's in that? ...WHAT'S IN THAT?! WHAT'S IN THAT?!!!!"

 

I was seriously pissing myself by this point.

"...A pig's heart."

"A pig's heart?! Are you SERIOUS?! OH MY GOD, REALLY?!"

 

I was seriously in fits - more so when I took it out and laid it out on my composition.

I'd taken along a bottle of the golden syrup blood too.

I expected to use all of it, but I only used 1/4 of the bottle - a little goes a long way, so it seems.

 

I took the first photos of just the heart with blood drizzled over it - then Paul gave me a Stanley knife and told me to slice it apart.

...Oh nice one, I thought.

 

I was right to think that - I don't mind holding it - and I can tolerate the smell (for a little while...) - but once I drove the blade into it - it was tough, gristly - and the more I sliced through the thick flesh, the more fluids from inside dribbled everywhere and the stronger the scent became.

 

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This heart-slicing lark went on for around 40 minutes - then I got another idea of what to use some blood for.

I turned to my camera-sharing-partner, shook the bottle and smiled.

 

She assured me it was fine - so I found a paperclip, twisted it into the shape of a hook and bent it around her bottom lip. Then I found an easel clip and she clipped it to her left ear.

 

I used a hard paintbrush and spread the blood around her lips - being careful to catch the drips in the bottle.

 

Here's the result:

 

 

 

The idea is - the easel clip looks similar to that of the tags they attatch to the ears of cattle/pigs/etc before they're slaughtered. This symbolises the element of butchery in my project, as well as representing the loss of dignity, rights and freedom. It also shows some significance of Ashleigh being treated as an animal.

The paperclip "meathook" actually stopped Ash from talking - which also ties in with the loss of dignity anfd rights that the clip represented - but the contrast of flesh and steel is a nice touch.

Steel on flesh is a symbol of torture, restraint, harm and punishment.

 

Aye - now if I can turn all that rambling into a detailed analysis in my sketchbook - I SHALL BE ROLLING IN MARKS. :)

 

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Oh, and here's some of the heart:

 

 

 

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Yes, I keep a list of dumb things that i do. however; most of the time I choose not to share them. Well tonight # 158 happened. I was in the kitchen cooking and somehow managed to knock a knife off of the counter I felt it hit my big toe and didn't pay attention to it right away because i figured that  it bounced off and fell on the floor. well needless to say that that didn't happen. I look down and the damn thing was sticking straight up in my foot! A normal person would have taken it out right away, but not me... nooooooooo. I sit there trying to remember every damn thing that i cut with it during dinner preparation. so, i finally yank it out and of course it squirts just to be dramatic. pouring peroxide on it right away wasnt a bright idea either. so, all cleaned up and bandaged here i sit sharing my dumb moment:D

At work, one of my guy friends and I were debating about weapons (I really have no idea how we had gotten onto the subject in the first place, other than our fondness for them), but we had gotten to which weapon would cause a person more fear; a gun, or a knife.

What he said surprised even myself:  "If a guy pulls a gun on you," He said carefully, "You would be afraid, but you would know that in one shot, point blank, you would be dead.  But, if you were to pull a knife on somebody, they would piss themselves.  Why?  It's so much more intimate, getting close to them; cutting, slicing..."

I felt heat come to my cheeks, and I knew my chest was hot as well.  I'm a visual creature, and imagining that had triggered my blood fetish incredibly quickly.  Thankfully, a co-worker had come up to ask him a question, whilst they were talking I had turned away in time, my face reddened more because I was embarrassed that thinking about it had gotten to me so intensely.

I keep thinking about The Number 21, and the scenes in it...god I wish Cal was here...mm-mm good...:)

I'm in such a vampiry mood right now...the show TrueBlood has me all revved up...:(