It's been a long time

Thursday Afternoon

It was a lazy Thursday afternoon, I didn't have school and the sun was oh so lovely at 3pm

Sincerely, 

Mary

Photo Diary: Backyard Adventures in Suburbia

Dear Shakespeare, 

How are things for you? Being a ghost and all. I'm thinking of reading Hamlet, but for now I'll just struggle through Sartre. Anyways I know two posts in one day is a bit much but this is just a little photo diary:

I found these photos in my room from the beginning of summer, I took them on a disposable. Also I can't wait to get my photos from Ethiopia developed! I think I'll get that done soon

Truly Mary,

I've finally started to use the scanner again!

Dear Shakespeare, 

Just photos of two new paintings I did. No pretty prose, or angst fueled confessions, or poetry; just two things.  I must say that sometimes I wonder what people think when they look at what I create. At a theoretical level I know that I ought not to wonder or care and that self-validation is really what I should achieve, but there's still this nagging part of my head that wonders if it all just looks like a mass of awkward lines. This sounds cliche as hell but when I paint I paint my thoughts/emotions, it's personal. so I rarely show people what I paint when it's not online. It's too hard to share it, to hear it being judged, it's almost like my thoughts and emotions would then be judged. But sometimes I think an external/different perspective would be interesting. What do you think Shakespeare?  

Ps. Kilo Kish has such a fabulous afro, also her music is totally interesting 

Truly Mary, 

Reality isn't a film, or a poem or a song
It isn't always cinematic, or romantic, or picturesque
Life is sometimes monotonous and grey and moves too slowly and yet too fast.
But there are moments, more romantic and real than anything in a film or a poem or a song.
Moments we often overlook, forget or dismiss:
When laughter becomes a cackle
The taste of strawberry ice cream eaten outside in the summer
Learning to skateboard at the park with your best friend

These moments aren't the same for everyone,
There is no universal aesthetically pleasing moment, or one of happiness
It cannot be applied to one’s life like an equation in math
But these moments are all the same; In isolation they mean nothing
Yet the way they make us feel makes reality all the worth living   

*This is just a little poem/prose-y thing I wrote yesterday about recent thoughts, idk 

I wish I was at a Sub Luna City gig

Dear Shakespeare,

Sometimes it’s hard to see an end to the day in and day out, the waking up at unholy hours of the morning, grey train rides full of unconcerned people, the constant tiredness, aching bones, angst, the boredom and the longing. Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning in the pattern of my life, nothing new happens, what happens tomorrow is merely a rerun of my yesterday. It’s a feeling of claustrophobia almost; like I’m stifled and gasping for air. I've always thought that things would get better as I got older; you know the kinda thing where as you get older you gain more freedom, responsibility and all that other stuff, you are bound by less restriction. I don’t know if that’s true anymore, I mean I know it’s true to a certain extent, in the sort of sense where once you reach eighteen you can go clubbing and the like. But I don’t mean it like that, I just feel like once I get older maybe I’ll still wake up at unholy hours of the morning, still take grey train rides full of unconcerned people, and maybe I’ll grow to like it all. Maybe I’ll grow used to gasping.

I don’t know what I want to do after school is over, lots of people I know do. Doctor. Engineer. Lawyer. Psychiatrist. I’m scared that my indecision will fuck me over, that I’ll end up grey. Everything I want seems idealistic and related to creative pursuits, and anyways I worry that I’m not good enough, I just wish that I could want something more “real life”.

Maybe I’m just feeling all of this because I wish I was somewhere else, Australia can feel like the arse end of the world, far away from everywhere  except for New Zealand. I wish I lived in London, I wish I could just go to a Sub Luna City gig on a Saturday night, or go to Arvida Bystrom’s art gallery, or see Rejjie Snow live, or take a train to Sweden or Germany to see my family. I know Australia is incredibly interesting, but it’s so easy to feel disconnected from the rest of the world, it’s so easy to stay cooped up in suburbia rather than going out. I guess I’m still feeling passive about life, but now I feel like to rid that feeling I've got to go far away from here.

More of my paintings 'n' stuff:

this napkin was from a lovely day I had meandering around the city, and invisibly people watching on the lawn of the state library. 

I did this painting whilst listening to Loveleen on repeat and it's kinda about it. So I sent a pic of this painting to Rejjie Snow and told him that I paint to his music and then he said (and I quote) "amazing, thank u n I really love ur art" FUCKING REJJIE SNOW REPLIED TO MY MESSAGE, LOOKED AT MY SHITTY PAINTING AND SAID HE LOVED IT. arghhhhhhh he is a total babe

P.s I went to Retrostar's $10 warehouse sale in Brunswick today, it was really fun and I bought a few nice things like:

they were rllyyy comfy couches 

Also there was a hello kitty popcorn maker!!!!!

P.p.s I couldn't decide which song to choose for this letter so I've settled on two:

Sub Luna City 

                                          

J Dilla

Truly Mary, 

Hello Again

Dear Shakespeare,

I think I've forgotten how to write, words no longer flow with a natural rhythm, everything I write is pained and over-thought and jarring. I haven't written to you in a while, but I'm not really all that sorry because I didn't  have much to say, I was busy working out how I feel and what I think and who I am, but I still feel confused and tired, and oddly content.

Sometimes I feel invincible, the terrible cliché adults associate with teenagers. When I get this way everything feels heightened, like I'm on the verge of actualizing my dreams. But suddenly something changes and instead of invincibility, the self doubt I feel is dizzying. And the thought of people looking at my face, let alone interacting with me is crazy scary, so scary that I retreat into myself. Kinda as a way of dreaming rather than living. 

But I spent a month in Ethiopia over the summer break, being there removed me from the regularities of my life, especially all the socializing and internet stuffz. When I was there I rarely had internet access and it gave me a break from all the documenting and recording of social media and blogging, and the internet in a general sense. Instead of always showing others or telling others what I thought and what I had done, I experienced things for myself and I did not later write about the experiences for them to be praised or critiqued. I'm sorry if I sound cynical, I promise I'm not, but I think I've undergone a disillusionment with the internet, I've remembered that life exists outside of it. 

    

I know what I've written isn't much or meaningful, its just blabbery stuff. I'll write more soon, about Ethiopia: I took a lot of photos on my film camera with the objective of trying to capture the beauty and complexity of the country. But also about general preoccupations of my mind. I'm in year 11 now, which seems kinda scary. Also I've been doing more paintings about how I feel, the first one is about discord and stuff the the second is more about everything feeling right and like harmonious and stuffz: 

Write to you soon

Ps. sorry for the emotional, disjointed and shitty post

P.P.s the song for this letter is Sunday by Earl Sweatshirt, this is rllyy god rap

Truly Mary,