creatures of a forest

model: Irinela Irr

Relics

                                                                                                        Surfin' USA

                                                                                                                    Self

                                                                                                        Hat Sisters

                                                                                                        Tree of Life

                                                                                                          Wild Hair

                                                                                                               Bullshit

When I Look

Nobody knows what I’ve been,

                          where I’ve been,

                          who I’ve been.

I have feathers hanging off of my ears, blonde locks of hair but no fairy tales. I love children’s books and fairy tales. I’ve made a habit of picking them up in libraries.

Soundtracks are the type of music that would put me in a happy mood and for some reason, make me think of Christmas. I walk through my home town and make people say August when what they actually mean is January. Thank you.

I had my curtains pulled to the right (left?) for the most part of the day and a mess in my room. But when I walked to the window to close them I saw three little boys watching me. I was reading in my bed covered in multiple layers (onion?) the entire time. Wave, smile and close.

Green tea makes me hungry and Earl Grey reminds me of 34A, September 2010. Soon 2012. When and where does time fly (to)?

I’m a dreamer

       a traveler

       a searcher

       a questioner

       an artist

       a balance seeker

       a help

       an onion

       a vertigo.

I miss people I’ve barely met. Or never met. I love music when shouted into empty spaces. Such as Kings of Leon’s  ‘Closer’. I dream of you every night. I make promises and keep them. New Year’s resolution – to watch all of Akira Kurosawa’s movies (as a director).

I see. Immensely.  

The Fall Within

I fell through the rabbit hole one winter afternoon and ended up in an autumn landscape I knew.
It's been inside me for many years now.

At the end of the forest, there's an answer.

A Crooked Portrait

She gets out of the bathroom, moving uncoordinatedly, but smoothly from left to right, from the bathroom to towards the couch; she throws herself in a slow motion movement on the couch, with a shallow spin, almost without weight.

Her eyes are humid, tears showing up, the effort, the tension, the pressure from the back of her neck, all of these make her wish this day didn’t have a beginning. Alcohol and syrup, a dizzy hangover after a few hours’ sleep, kidnapped from what belonged to the night.

The moon shaped tattoo on her foot gravitates around her birthmark. It’s almost tied to a handmade anklet, violently colored. The loose snowflake pattern trousers are a bit too purple for the white and green stripped t-shirt. Her nose pierce sparkles infinitely less than her red eyes.

Her left arm is left behind on a cushion even after she gets up and rushes towards the bathroom again, towards the door that bears a ‘Do Not Slam The Door’ sign. 

Now I'm Stepping Back

Don't forget don't forget  don't forget don't forget don't forget don't forget don't forget don't forget
That it's been bad that it's been bad that it's been bad that it's been bad that it's been bad
That it's been good that it's been good that it's been good that it's been good that it's been good
Sometimes sometimes sometimes sometimes sometimes sometimes sometimes sometimes sometimes.

A mess.

I'll become invisible

Don't worry.
About me.

Orange Dots On White Skin

Deconstructing Water