The Inevitable Post.

Without wanting to sound like the clichéd hysterical teenage music fan (which is, undoubtedly, what I am), I'd just like to take a moment to point out how much music-specifically, music made by the gentleman pictured- has changed and improved my life in the last 5 years. As the mature 16 year old woman that I am today, I often reflect upon my time as a giddy 12 year old youngster, just about to go into 'big' school, discovering Radiohead for the very first time. It was an eye (or perhaps ear?) opening experience for me. It opened up so many wonderful doors, allowed so many shiny new ideas to bloom in my mind, gave me so many reasons to be happy. Of course, everyone's love of music starts with one album; mine was In Rainbows. How can 10 songs change someone's life so dramatically? Quite simply, really, if they're the right songs. For me, In Rainbows is perfect. It flows, it's joyous, it's miserable, it allows you to dance like a madman across your bedroom. The vocals are wonderful, the lyrics full of feeling. The percussion is delicate and booming. The Bass is complete and utter bliss. And the guitar-well, the guitar is perfectly indescribable. 

Of course, this isn't a new thing for humanity; humans have been discovering thoughts and feelings they never knew they had through music almost constantly over the last few hundred years. But when it happens to you-when you find that one artist, that one band, that one album- you know that you can never really look at the world the same way again. That is why I adore music.

Emily Quotes

And so, being young and dipped in folly, I fell in love with melancholy.

Edgar Allan Poe 

The evolution of my graphic art

early this year, I purchased a graphics tablet, for many reasons:

• to broaden my artistic horizons (how wonderfully pretentious)
• to try to find some sort of drawing style
• to draw 'fan art' (oh god, sorry, but that's essentially what I do)
• to crudely edit pictures of musicians

here is a selection, in no chronological order, at all, of some of my van gogh-esque work:

'John Frusciante (a bit scribbled)'

'The Precious Greenwoods'

'STAG!'

'thom yorke strolls meaningfully across calm ocean waves'

'yellow'

'blurina'

'Mail for Moz'

'Disapproving Nicky Wire'

'Self Portrait I'

'Self Explanatory'

'DJ Yorke'

'inner child (AKA Self Portrait II)'

'Jenny Greenwood'

'Self Portrait III'

'Dumb'

'Kawaii Greenwood, 1993'

'Self Portrait IV'

'Milk'

'Nicky Wire, in tub'

'In Rainbows'

'Talk Show Host with the Most'

'The bends'

Yes, they all have names. Yes, I've just created the names for this post. No, I do not have any art shows planned. Each picture is frustratingly different, right down to the signature (which in most cases I don't even bother including- i can never remember which one i settled on, so what's the point?). Perhaps inconsistency is my 'style'.

In his mind, all is quiet. The obnoxious buzzes of  sharp street corners sway and fade, leaving everything still, like a blanket of snow. he treads lightly among the bracken- pebbles and trinkets that line street floors, desperate, crying to be heard. A child across the way stoops to examine her find; it glints and sparkles in her eyes as she rubs it upon a soft thumb. What could be more precious, more beautiful than the humble stone? more weather-worn than the weariest traveller, cherished more than the latest fad, brighter than the deepest of passions. Naturally, this isn't considered as he sweeps past her with a smile. His thoughts- those small, liquid bursts of hungry ideas- are upon the unknown. The shameless emotion embroidered within his features remains as he tilts his head towards the skies,  deep in consideration of this wonderful anonymous. He was full of love, in his heart and in his stomach, dizzy at the idea of someone who felt as he did.

Sometimes, I think the only way to express the way i feel is to create someone to express it for me.

the people I admire most: an exquisite gallery

Edith Piaf (powerful voice, good eyebrows)

Quentin Crisp (Flamboyant and wonderful)

Thomas Yorke (the most talented singer of all time, ever... ever.)

Jonathan Greenwood (godlike. See previous post) 

The Comic Strip Presents... Peter Richardson, Alexei Sayle, Rik Mayall, Ade Edmondson, French & Saunders, Robbie Coltrane, Keith Allen, Nigel Planer (Comedy Geniuses)

Reflection

So in the past few weeks, my emotions have been knocked around in every way possible. I have been ignored, treated coldly by someone I cared about; I have been distanced from one of the people I love the most; I have looked up at the skies and thought my life good, thought myself lucky.

I'm not sure how I feel. I know that I'm not the only person in the world to feel pain, to experience difficult patches in life. However, my recent experiences have helped me to realise a few things about myself:

• I find it very easy to love, but very rarely have it returned. I am passionate about people who don't even know I exist. I care deeply about those who could never possibly care about me, who never will. I worry and I weep about hordes of cold, uncaring, depressed individuals. why do I do these things to myself? why do I have these feelings? I don't really know. But sometimes I wished that I could be icy and unfeeling- so not to feel a painful sting when the ones I love unravel and fall away, leaving me alone.
• I will never be beautiful. I always think of the normal people as the most beautiful- those with routine, with echoing laughter and family anecdotes. I have all of these things, of course i do. But I will never shine like those beautiful regular people. I will always be dulled and sad, tucked into the corner of a room, forever in awe of the beauty that surrounds me.
• There is a point to life. I don't know what it is, but somehow there must be. Sometimes, I feel full of passion and optimism for life, I see nature, hear music, watch the people around me being happy. perhaps days like that are why we should keep on living.

I'm not sad, I'm simply unsure of how to feel.

I'm not living, I'm just killing time.

- true love waits.

Kolniður

"I wonder, if I'm allowed, just ever to be." - Jonsi

Nothing, and I mean nothing, appeals to me more at the present moment in time than running away to the land of eccentric jumpers and wonderful music- Iceland.

This charming notion has of course been brought on by a wonderful selection of musicians- namely, Bjork, Jonsi, and his band, Sigur Ros. What could be more beautiful that staring at those raw, busy skies, exploring the wondrous grey and green, stopping only to catch a breath and remember that yes indeed, you are still on earth- the birthplace of Fascism, Liam Gallagher and Spam. Who wouldn't be tempted to follow music like this, wherever it takes them? it tugs at every one of my emotions, despite being in a language I can't understand. That's the appeal of songs like Kolniður; its message reaches even the chilliest of English hearts.

It's a romantic (and not altogether realistic) prospect; but one day when I slip away without a trace, record collection in tow, I'll be sure to send a postcard from that same chilly landscape. Or not. Do they have things as bland as postcards in Iceland? Stamps? I wonder who graces the humble Icelandic stamp. Anyway.

 Sigur Rós - Sæglópur.
Music to dream to.