Listening to locks

Damian bought me this beautiful doorknob at Anthropologie a few years ago when we were in Las Vegas.  Sadly when we got home we realized it didn't fit the existing door to my studio (the door is some sort of cheap thing that came with the house when we bought it.  some kind of DIY gone poorly).  He installed it anyway and i said I could deal, it was so much prettier than the crappy brass thing that was already affixed.  From that day onward I've found myself getting locked in when I close the door to keep the cats out of my paint mess (they love to walk on my palette and leave paw prints throughout the house).  I twist spin turn the doorknob to no avail, it just seems to circle around and around until it finally pops off and leaves me locked in my studio staring questionably at a white door with a bubbled pink glass globe in my hand.

It used to tick me off but then I realized, is there any better place to get locked in?  Maybe it's a sign?  Every time I try to exit my studio I'm unable to.  I think the Universe (and Anthropologie?) is trying to tell me where I belong.

If I ever doubted the message the pink globed lock-in was giving me all I had to do was look closer at the spine of the door which revealed, upon photo upload, something I never noticed before. DEFIANT.  I can't tell you how much i love that.  It's so fitting.  Time to get myself fired/laid off.

White space

There's nothing quite like a blank canvas.  Equally full of possibilities and fear at the same time.

On the way

Coming soon; me finally getting my shit together AND, my own website!

It's my birthday!

I love birthdays, even my own.

Stitches

The other day I went out to look for some new clothes.  Now, I dislike shopping, I'd even go so far as to say i hate it.  Hate is a strong word but man, shopping is a drag... unless I'm out hunting art supplies, then it's wonderful.

I'm at the point where i NEED to shop though, all of my clothes are literally falling apart.  Every time i put a shirt on I seem to find a hole, my jeans (that don't already have holes in the knees) are thinning at a mad pace.  Even my socks look up at me when I put them on and ask why they haven't been put out of their misery yet.

So yes, I went out the other day to spend some Christmas monies I generously received.  What I was greeted with was bland, lifeless, boring cloth bits trying to pass themselves off to me as what I wanted to occupy my closet with.  What happened to colour?  Bold, vivacious, lovely colour?  Why is everything shades of grey, dark blue, black, and beige?  I don't think I've ever yawned so much.  Even if there was a splash of colour it was muted so much I could feel the embarrassment of the fabric in my fingertips as i held it for 4 seconds, contemplating its worth before putting it back on the rack.  Even the cuts and styles were drab and boring, so la dee dah and "but everyone is wearing it darling".  I'm beginning to realize I'm not "everyone".  The main spark that generally sets me out to poach the perfect outfit is an image or idea in my head of what I'd like to find in the fashion desert/jungle. Oddly enough I never do find what my mind has created for me.  What's the deal with that?

I'm thinking I need to learn how to sew, like every other woman in my fam.  I'm surrounded by fantacular ladies who know their way around a bobbin yet i remain a dunce on the subject .  I spent my childhood summers pulling pins out of my feet in my grandparents Florida apartment (my sister & I slept in our Grandmas sewing room) and I think I need to put those metaphorical pins to use.   It's the only way I'll ever be able to manifest what my mind thinks is right for me.  My (dream) creations won't be some crazy new design, they'll pretty much be based on a solid 1920's foundation.  My wardrobe demands these basics;

* colour

* sparkle

* comfort

* shy sexiness

* swish

* fun

* imagination

* wonderment

* personality

* ribbon(s)

* me

With those basics sewn into reality I will accessorize with loose, broad, storytelling jewellery.  Lots of bangles that jingle about as I sip champagne...like my Grandma.  

Amuse Bouche

 You know my last post, about buying red lipstick?  Well that got me chatting with my friend Maria-Therese who also just started glamming in red.  She said "why don't people decorate their lips with motifs etc?" This got us into a little project, a lip art documentary project.  We're both artists so why not use our own faces as a canvas, or parts of our faces anyway.  The lips are such a sensual part of a woman's face and lend a small but lovely space for decoration.  It's another play in being BOLD!

This is my first attempt at creating lip art on myself (see one of Maria-Therese's here.  *side note* aren't her eyes simply gorgeous?!?!!)

My mind is a flutter with ideas, I've never been a make-up girl but i'm now longing to supply myself with a palette of palpable colours.

Another aid in my exploration of me, this project will help with my self portrait plan. It gives me a reason to take photos of myself.

Towards Bold

I bought red lipstick.  Going from nothing more than lip balm or gloss, just to keep my lips nice and soft, this was a bright shock when I first smoothed it on.  I've gotta say, red lipstick is tricky to put on, it's very noticeable when it goes beyond the lip line and ends up looking rather clown like.  When I tried to get the clownish spillover off a slight ghost remained in a faint pinky stain. I worked away at it, managed to get rid of the haunting and ended up with a more romantic, and much less foolish look. A type of whimsical heart shape appeared.

The other day the idea popped into my head that I wanted to buy a bright res lipstick.  I'm not sure where it came from, i never wear lipstick.  I'm thinking it's all a part of my subconscious's plan to be more bold, to be willing to stand out a bit more instead of hiding in the background.  Essentially be more "me", be more of the person I feel is floating around inside myself bumping into walls and getting tangled in the brambles I've put up for some reason. 

In another move to clear cut the inner tangles and get used to seeing my "self" I'm going to play with self-portraiture more.  I always hate pictures of myself, I'd rather be behind the camera.  Another way of being in the background you see.

Should be fun.  Experimental. Opening.