Vogelkop bowerbird bower; Thomas's feet in his customized loafers; fantastic autobiography cover; detail of an antique "juju shaman tunic" from Papua New Guinea for sale on E-bay which I would kill for; best fashion/art exhibition ever, fast-forward to about 5.00 for the best part's beginning, it's so fucked-up; cover of a book from the 1970s on hippie embroidery trends which should be arriving in the post any day now; garter snake; Patti; screenshot from a favorite movie, Celine et Julie Vont en Bateau; coyote gloves by the Japanese brand Eatable of Many Orders (they have all the best clothing ideas).
Going skydiving this Saturday; Chicago in 12 days; New York in 18 days; Montreal in 20 days; I leave for India on Halloween. The summer went by so oddly, quick and slow at the same time. My future is a question mark, and my mind is an empty vessel.That's both exciting and terrifying. I keep forgetting, literally forgetting, my age (I'm newly 23, but mentally am stuck responding that I am 21 when asked), and today it took me a second to remember my own name. That's the state of mind I've been in.
I noticed today most of the films which I have on my computer are about the same themes: alienation, or feeling like an alien, and about people, predominantly females, losing their minds or sliding into delusion: Black Moon, Celine et Julie, The Man who Fell to Earth, Anti-Christ, Rosemary's Baby, Sisters, Black Swan... I have a disconcerting predilection towards those sorts of ideas: pretty wraith lives in dream world, loses cool. Uh-oh. Maybe post-India I'll have developed healthier inclinations, and happier and less specific film choices. Some time as a kindergarten teacher will remind me how to come back.
Leaving on a funky fly fresh note ya hear
Leaving on a funky fly fresh note ya hear
