I don't know why i'm back here again, this little part of the world i abandoned .
It's a place where memories live be it real or amplified.
I've started collecting art, glass art but it wouldn't be vases or venetian. started with a glass cicada from CIRCA as i walk by there alot from Wall cafe.
It was hideously expensive and out of my budget but i bought it anyway.
I'm going to collect all of them, they have 6-9 glass cicadas in closed wings and some being made of the chrysilis .
I don't know what i'm going to do with them but all i know it's better than buying white manchester and ipods.
Anyway back to the pictures.

In honor of world youth day and his holiness the Pope.

Oh, yes... umm not that you care anymore, however if you want to, it's "flotis schmotis" on facebook.
Till next time.

Kate moss appearing as a hologram for Alexander McQueen

Busy. but i think of you from time to time.

I haven't blogged properly for a while, you become the ration that is your existance.
I don't care to blog anymore, infact i don't care about alot of things these days, just keeping my life streamlined and uncluttered has become so attentive that i have relinquished all that could be free.
And it is within these boundries i find myself evermore deliciously alone.

My heroes had the heart to Lose their lives out on a limb
And all I remember is thinking, I want to be like them
Ever since I was little, ever since I was little it looked like fun
And it's no coincidence I've come
And I can die when I'm done

I can't stand these ultra-thin pretty young male models!
I just want to go up to them and throw bacon and $5 bills at them, jesus god damn bloody buggery...

One of my speakers from the home theatre is broken, so now i have sound going from the front, left to right.. then stopping behind me on the left hand side and continuing on the right!
It's just ridiculous! So i went and bought some fantastic george jensen home furnishings. An entwined candle stick and a clock so i can tell what time it is in the morning. First thing i see in the morning is a george jensen clock .

Says it all really.

Am i having my hair done in some gothic-underground-carpark?

It's been a while, only because of my unstable social life.
Work has been and still is with the odd mental case here and there, one woman carried on and on about her circumstance and schizophrenic son whom she brought up in dire circumstances, do i really care these days?
shouldn't i be charging 200 per hour excluding the chesterfield sofa?
Or the tranny with receeding hairline and red and white paisley print smock, yes, smock calling herself "miss jones" no wonder by friday i'm a mess, like a puddle of emotions, a puddle darlings.
i went shopping at Shibuya bus stop , they have 2 tiny stores in chinatown, one 'punk' one 'goth'. I don't know what i'm doing but i just found the muslin jackets with cut out holes just too tempting and bought two. Winter will be homeless-goth for me.
Misery attracts alot of things.

I have Yoko ono's "ONO BOX" on rotation and it's making me feel things.

Had a quick jaunt to the city, books books, one on Serbian identity and another on crude medical experiments, for example cataracts removal without anesthetic.
A million laughs.
Some thoughts, why do those little african kids advertising for world vision wave round huge enamel mugs?????? i thought it was drought ravaged??? did they drink all the water with those huge mugs???? i do wonder.
And sometimes i can't help but notice the jumpers they wear in 40c heat, is it pumpkinpatch or baby gap? i swear they sell those for $50 each at the stores and why pull-overs?
In one ad. i thought the boy had a walkman on his head, turns out to be some rope with sticks bundled to it, pet, why are you carrying it on your head?????
Where do these poor kids in a nation of nothing, everything dehydrated to a tiny box of sultanas find a tyre rim to roll round?? please explain that one!!!

The third world needs a stylist.

I'd start with a more fitted silhouette, why not, they have the bone structure and deep red lipstick for the girls in fabulous cutout bikinis, perfect day-wear whilst planting crops from oxfam donations and it can be worn under some gorgeous cashmere blankets they can drape over themselves in cold evenings.
Those men, well just gorgeous toight, i mean toight! boxer briefs and uber slender jeans from Dior homme topped with very-white hessian (can we pronounce that with 'ssss' please) shirts unbuttoned.

That's enough i'm getting wet with thoughts.

"cos in the dark you can't see shiny cars..."

I believe it was just something, one of those negative things that attach themselves to you and shut the world down .
So i had a lay on the crystal bed, got my chakra re-aligned and had some channelling done. From brazil no less by a 'medium' who went into spasms as he stroked my shoulders from behind me but there was a chair between us, drank some holy water and thought very little of latin gregorian chanting, it's abit 90's.
The spirits tinkered round, made my right leg move and felt all warm and fuzzy whilst i was contemplating which ipod shuffle i should get.
The human kipper had a session on the crystal bed and ended up bent over a toilet bowl .
Her message was "LOSE WEIGHT NOW!"
There was going to be a psychic reading too but had to be cancelled because it was 'alternate' saturday, the one she gets her kids off her husband. Didn't see that one coming eh.
Oh i must get in touch with my spiritual side, i think there's a little bit of mystic in all of us, oh lets.

Since i left you....

There has been an undercurrent of bitterness which has bubbled to the surface, a pretence lightly skimmed off other peoples bittnerness. It's ok to feel ones strange fruit.

I'm physically reacting, wanting to annihilate, plot and scheme a glorious downfall purely with self gratification wiped across my smile one vertebrae at a time.

I think i'm entering a phase of quiet-horror.

Everything is going back to black not as counter-culturing this regurgitation of neon on thin-cotton print, thin thin cotton print.

If you took out concepts of beauty, every ideal what is left to say about yourself?

Why do i even bother.

One of my favourite purchases of 2007, 'cannabis' candle by MALIN+GOETZ. Smells so alluring and sexy, deep and confident, kind of turns me on. Well if i can't get it from a man i might aswell get it from a candle.
I also bought this very cool mirror which i will show later, i want more black furnishings flanked by brushed-silver a kind of ornate neo-gothism with a hint of modernity. However there is this romantism of black lately , a pithy of jet-bacarat crystal chandeliers and etched mirrors. The beautiful 'Budoir' movement of 2007 turning into a whorehouse of veneral ideas. I want black without the sparkle, without the garter and suspenders, the frou-frou and candle-lit shite, i want black as in carved, hammered, ashened with severity. Keep the fucken light OUT!
I might have to rethink the albino manchester to include some deeper colours and replace all my seagrass and wicker baskets with black ones. no time for natures muted tones.
2008 will be the year of Masculine gothique, no frills no pastels no multi-scrap-jute ikea rug!

Boxing day was the usual drunken craziness with lots of olives.

"No, you can't help it
if you have been tempted
By fruit hanging ripe on the tree
And I feel useless
Don't care what the truth is
You will be here come the day
Truth do you hear me?
Don't try to come near me
So tired I sleep through the lie
If you desire to lay here beside me
Come to my sweet melody"

For a moment i've fallen in love with Interpol.
As quick as the chorus hooks on it dies and so does any affections.

Catching up with John tomorrow up at Latteria, i hope i don't look too fat.

This week was survived by swallowing handfuls of exasperation.
Coming home to my flatmate doing star-jumps in the living room. "i've done 50.... now i got to sprint" and so she does up and down the hall way. Then last night she decided to do variations on ballroom dancing meets modern interpretive dance, martha graham would be enthralled, one glove clapping.

One client screamed at the top of her lungs "OHHHHHH...YOU'RE GOING SOOO DEEEP...OOHHHH IT'S SO DEEP"

"no madam, the needles are all the same length"

"ooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH....oooooooh. i've never felt so much pain"

"so i guess you'll calling us for a booking then?"

"oh, book me in for next week please".

And we had the fully-grown baby (late 50s). He's booked himself in 3 time a week with the human kipper.

He rocks up dressed like tweedle dumb, childs baseball cap on and a rectangular weatherproof carry case built for 2 cans of beer, pink, light blue and frayed zipper, trundling down the hall with a sheepish smile and nylon red hair arched over his scalp due to seasonal humidity and proceeds to the toilet i've just bleached and launches his last meal to the sides of the porcelain.

And i say why bother with punctation marks.

His wife comes in an hour later, she has a new haircut, so she can look like victoria beckham. She looks more like a used soccor ball then anything.

Then there was the unsatisfied mother of a 15yo boy who proceeded to tell me her son was "getting into sex" with much graphic detail it would make a priest want to go to confession and her husband......
" bloody hell what have i married? he couldn't even make salmon spawn".

Next week i have the woman with no hair wanting 3hrs of epilation, miss souvlaki for 4 hrs- i'm doing her bikini atoll, i think that's an appropriate description and miss raisons. She is having her aereola done and her nipples shrivell up like raisons, the ones you find at the bottom of the danish christmas cookie tins, the forgotton ones.

God bless.

I am listening to Air- Kyoto from the Lost in translation movie which i'm petrified of watching again for it would send me into a time which my world was free and bohemian. I fell in love with every new vista.
A phrase amongst digital chatter, we became whatever our desires decided on the day, in the moment, unashamed hurtling down the stairs of some Japanese bar in python boots slurping down freshly fondled ramen in a noodle house who knew no alphabet and the empty tokyo streets buzzing with the ghosts of neon.

I've come home to my mother asking about my relationship

"what relationship?"

"you can atleast pretend to have one"

Is this the answer?

I need a new monitor, this ones playing up.

I spent most of my holidays doing this.

I met up with the wonderful Deb and had coffee at Latteria , visited some tiny art galleries and got caught in the rain huddled inside the war memorial. One could amplify those moments as romantic in notion if only Deb wasn't female and that i wasn't wearing white in the rain.
But i do love Deb in that Peter-of-ways and yes we did talk about you in endearing terms dear Pete.

Work has been horrid, absolutley horrid, we lost 2 more staff and now have 4 times the work load amongst two of us and my boss has disappeared to south america to hand out wheelchair cushions, i'm not entirely sure the poor have wheelchairs over there.

And next week doesn't look much better, i'm going to hit macdonalds hard .