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kissthewitch
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Country: United Kingdom
Birthday: 3/18/1975
Gender: Female
Interests: German Expressionist films; Lydia Lunch; PJ Harvey; Surrealism; Angela Carter; fairy tales; Henry Miller; Freud; Sartre; Existentialism; Lady Macbeth; Tim Burton; de Sade; Anais Nin; Anne Sexton; occultism; Louise Brooks; rituals; Tori Amos; Cindy Sherman; David Lynch
Expertise: Reading everything, writing something, dreaming a little, smoking a lot, drinking some of the time, thinking all of the time, dancing badly, singing terribly... Finding beauty and losing it to the ugliest of emotions.
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
12/30/2003
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| So, it seems J has swine flu. He's really really ill, bed-ridden, shaking, feverish, sick. I had to take Violet to the nursery this morning, then go to the doctors to pick up some tamiflu for him, then go to work 2 hours late. I have to leave an hour early to pick Violet up. It's only my second day back at work and already I'm ringing up with problems. Still, it's actually good to be back here. I never thought I'd say that. But it's a rest, a break from babyland. As beautiful as she is, she's exhausting! Course, this 'excitement' will soon wear off. Right now I'm filing and I'm not bored yet. In fact I'm amusing myself with people's surnames - Smallbone, Longstaff (!) and Maw. That's one of my favourite words - maw. It's like a cross between mouth and jaw. I'm loving my journey in to work too. An hour-long two-bus ride and I get to spend the time reading. That's something I've missed so much. Being at work means I can start that road to rediscovery, in crappy psychology jargon. I've been 'mother' and nothing else for 7 months. It's time to get Rachel back. Not that I can leave the other identity behind, I have to go to the toilets for half an hour a day to express milk, because if I don't I get really painful breasts! Apart from that though, it's back with the wacky make up, the costume jewellery, painted nails, fake fur coat, long swishy skirts, contact lenses... I'm getting reacquainted with my materialistic side. This new solo album by Juliette Lewis is fantastic by the way. I highly recommend it. | | |
| So little time for words. So little brain-space. Need to read. And write, some time. In the mean-time, the now-time, I'm off to the hairdressers this afternoon. Getting me to the hairdressers is like getting a cat to the vet. I really really hate going. But, needs must. My hair is coming out in handfuls since I had Violet. Lovely. Speaking of which, here is my beautiful 6 month old:
 ps. was watching a Shakira video the other day. She-Wolf. Boy, that woman is bendy. It's not natural.
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| Been gone a while. Been floating round the ether. Been plucking strands of spider webs like harp strings. Been painting the nursery. Been watching things grow. The tomatoes in the back yard didn't turn red this year and neither did I. Still green around the gills. I can't find the lead to upload the photos onto my pc. Bah. My dress is a sticky mess. It always washes out but it always re-appears as baby rice or puke. The white stains. I dreamt that as I approached the bathroom I saw a puddle of milk spreading slowly from underneath the door. As worrisome as water. As sinister as blood. Last night I dreamt I had a goose. I kept leaving her behind, on the bus, in cafes. But I always got her back. I dreamt we had to write a book review and bring the book in (to school?) with us. I couldn't do it. Braindead. So I brought a toy in instead. I haven't been writing and there's little time for reflection. My dreams say it all. Sleep is the aperture. | | |
| I feel big. In stature. In comparison. My hands are so big on her little body, her hands tiny as they grab my fingers. I feel big with responsibility for this dependent little soul. I feel big with morals and decisions and choices that no longer only affect me and my partner. I feel big with fear, I feel pregnant with it, of anything bad that might happen to her. I feel big with life, even now.
And, I feel like a child sometimes. Silly. Fun-loving. Hence:
What are babies for if not for 'styling' their hair into a mohican?
 V has had her first art gallery experience and cemetery experience. Today she had her first train ride. She sat looking at three teenage lads the whole of the 40 minute journey. Really stared at them. Obviously she's trying to figure boys out. I told her not to bother, that they'll never make sense to us!
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| We seem to spend so much time moving our shit from one side of the room to the other. However, we finally invested in some floor-to-ceiling shelves so now ALL our shit can live in one place. I'm the worst time and space manager in the world and this has been totally intensified since having Violet. At least having these shelves means I don't have my books mixed up with library books in stacks all over the house.
I have quite a few (auto)biographies. I'm quite addicted to them. I spent all morning putting them in size order. I've definitely been off work too long! These are they from largest to smallest  (look, I did my first smiley!):
Anita Berber
Henry Miller
Spike Milligan
Janet Frame
Courtney Love
John Peel
Colette
Anais Nin
Simone de Beauvoir
Elsbeth Bathory
Joan of Arc
Marlene Dietrich
Orson Welles
Edith Piaf
Tamara de Lempicka
Philip K Dick
Nancy Spungen
Marianne Faithful
Frances Farmer
Yum. I want to read them alllllll again please.
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