Archive for February, 2007
by Suzanne on February 14th, 2007
© David Ho – click to enlarge
Yes, it’s my bloody birthday – please send
strippers nurses Aspirin®.
Thanks to everyone who wrote comments and sent me emails in the past few days. I spent a lot of time offline (Believe me, it’s an awful world out there. Please stay at your screens…) and I need to find my online rhythm again before I can get back to you. Thank you for your patience. Your kind thoughts and words will not be forgotten.
Special thanks to my brother for believing in me, to my father for getting in touch with me, to my mum for reasons far too numerous to list here, to my granny and her pal Jesus for (still) loving me, to Thor for surprising me with a Max Ernst book, to Katja for the precious Ernst Haeckel book, to Kid37 for his encouragement, to Juju for his friendship (get well soon!) and to my dear friend Nora for her sensitivity and for taking me out for drinks tonight.
I don’t know where I’d be without you lot.
God, I sound like Gwyneth Paltrow.
WURZELTOD™ SPECIAL FOR THAT ONE DAY THAT SUCKS MOST
© Jenni Tapanila – click to enlarge
• I Love You (by Rob Manuel)
• Valentine’s Day (by Ze Frank)
• Valentine (by The Art of Bleeding)
• Flowers (by Emilie Simon)
• Making Fiend’s Val Day Special (by Amy Winfrey)
• Cupid’s Last Stand (by Skary)
• Fearless Little Love Poems (by BeetleBlue)
• Ninja Cupido (by TokiDoki)
• Valentins ist rounder korner! Oh, smoochen kissy partyparty ja!
(by The Snackbox Diaries)
• Latest Bin Laden Videotape Wishes America ‘A Crappy Valentine’s Day’ (by The Onion)
• Italy mystery of prehistoric hug (by BBC)
• Be Mine, Subversive Valentine! (by Subversive Cross Stitch)
• A Very Star Wars Valentines (by Something Awful)
• My Creepy Valentine (by Iconomy)
• 3 of Hearts (by Dan McCarthy)
• Bittersweets™ (by Despair, Inc.)
by Juju on February 14th, 2007
Very quick post as I’m ill and meant to be in bed or something but Grigori nagged and nagged and nagged to be let out of the image box again… He doesn’t get out much you see…
A triplet of links too:
Caution Illegal Border Crossing – http://www.mladenpenev.net/
Bath Duck http://www.nicolasgaudron.com/bathduck/
Turkey Cinemascope http://www.nuribilgeceylan.com/turkeycinemascope1.php?sid=1
by Suzanne on February 9th, 2007
Where I’ve been, you ask? Well, I’ve been hibernating with a couple of sans-papier bears in my hidden forest cave – wrapped in a warm blanket made of dead leaves, pine needles and earth. Hiding, covering, trembling, and crawling about. And even though it was all a really relaxing new-ageish experience, our WiFi connection was just too weak and I decided to make my way through the wild forest and return to the city. So here I am – feeling neither home nor abandoned, neither warm nor cold.
I’ve been hiding because I didn’t want to be seen. Not with this ever-aging shell that we jokingly refer to as a “temple”. Not with these eyes that get more and more languid. Not with these thoughts that have become the never-ending starless night before a doomed battle. And not with these tears that taste of nostalgia and defeat.
After 6 years at Alma Mater Basiliensis, I handed in my exmatriculation request. I’ll leave without a degree. Not even a B.A.. Nothing. I’m that rotten little underdeveloped fetus that made your womb ache with every step you took in the Ivory Tower, Mater, that ate from your placenta like a hyena only to get more hungry. Never to be born. Well, eat my shorts, Mater.
It’s hard when you wake up in the middle of a windless night a few days before your 28th birthday, and realise that all along, during 6 long years, you were trying to fool yourself that there was a place for you reserved in this world only to find that imaginary seat taken.
It’s bitter to realise that you are simply not made for a world where the concept of intellectual elitism still exists. It’s bitter to realise that you studied Archaeology, Greek, Ancient History & Art History not to master them, but because they mastered you. Because you are a creature so very easily possessed and absorbed by the evanescent beauty of a whispered word, a passing shadow, the contraction of a muscle…
Sometimes I wonder when and where I lost all that faith I once had in myself. I’d love to see it again, my faith, after all these years. Invite it for a drink, smoke a few cigarettes and take it home with me.
P.S._01: I’m looking for a job in London. In a bookshop, a gallery store.. etc. Please email me if you’ve heard of anything. Thank you.
P.S._02: I recently developed a strange medical condition that I call the E.T. phenomenon. About 7 to 20 times a day, the tactile elevation of my left index finger gets very warm and seems to emit some kind of energetic anti-magnetic field around itself. I only have it in my left hand. Any ideas/interested circus directors?