Been feeling like crap for a month now. What started off as a cold became a chest and sinus infection. But when you have kids, you can’t be ill. Thankfully I’m not a single mum so J was able to take over while I slept.

I took these pics yesterday while Violet and I were in the car, waiting for J to buy special secret man things in the special secret man DIY shop. As you can see, I look like shit. V looks good though!

Thanks to a friend of mine I’ve just come across a new creepy, freaky artist. A Swedish girl by the name of Mia Makila. I adore her photography; she also paints and works in digital media. Her pictures make the hairs on my chinny chin chin stand up. Tee hee. She’s of nightmares and glamour shots and circus performers. She’s also, I would say, very influenced by Cindy Sherman.

Wedding demon:

Untitled 29:

Marit3:

Barbie4:

Carina3:

I got a little carried away because I love ALL her shots. There are more in my pics. Go to her website to see the rest: http://www.miamakila.com/

I only just came to the realization (I always was a bit slow) that I’m a woman of excess. I can’t buy/use/borrow/bring along just enough for my needs. It used to be that when I was going out, I’d buy 40 cigs, even though I pretty much knew I wouldn’t smoke more than 20. But the thought of running out with a bellyfull of alcohol… If I’m hungry at work and I want a snack I buy two chocolate bars. Or, a bar of chocolate, a packet of crisps and some biscuits. Just in case I get hungry again later. If I want to buy eg. a new top or some shoes and I can’t decide which of two colours I prefer, I’ll buy both. I borrow and buy books I’ll never get time to read.

It’s a combination of indecisiveness and fear of being without, I think.

Also, I think it’s about setting unrealistic goals for myself.

Oh hon, get a grip and stop reading your pop psychology.

Speaking of which, My Mother/My Self, though it falls into above mentioned category, is really really good and I recommend it to all women, regardless of whether they have children. It bothers me a little that the author doesn’t have children herself. Still, she is a daughter and it is about mother/daughter relationships, and how to bring up a baby/girl/woman who is confident, and free-thinking and expressive with a good body image and sense of self. It’s interesting. I turn the pages faster than any book in a long while, and think My god, that is so true. (I hate it when people get me down to a ‘t’. People I don’t even know. People who are describing a great big chunk of the human race!) It’s well-written and ninety per cent convincing.

And for my next trick… I’d better get back to work.

I shouldn’t be on here. Shouldn’t be tappy tapping away like this. I should be working. Writing. This is my sacred hour, a whole 60 minutes booked on the computer in the public library while babe is in the nursery and hubster is at home. I have a story to write. I always have a story to write. That will be my eulogy. She didn’t have enough time to finish her little story. Her picture book with pretty words. But I just wanted to say hi. And that yesterday for some time we were driving behind an open-top vehicle that seemed to be loaded with rubbish. Including a slightly smaller than standard mannequin. When we pulled up behind the truck we saw the mannequin was actually an alien. You know, one of those little green men. Except he wasn’t green. He was kinda human coloured. I wish I had taken a picture. I wish we had followed him. Was he on his way to the dump? Was he going to be recycled? Was he, in fact, going somewhere further…? Darn, I’ll never know.

I came across this news story last month but didn’t get around to
mentioning it on here till now. So it’s old news, but it’s still kind
of funny/gross, in a stranger-than-fiction, story-fodder way.

A woman crossing the US border at Mexico caught customs officials by surprise when they saw her gold bling brooch moving. It turns out she did declare the brooch, which happened to be a live jewel-encrusted beetle on a gold chain, but didn’t have the right paperwork. According to the guardian it’s not that uncommon to wear a live insect as decoration in Mexico!

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2010/jan/22/bling-beetle-bugs-us-customs

A link, a link, my book for a link… And so to Eden in this dreamy night when my paws go to work in their singular fashion and I wonder where oh where does the time go? A vortex. A void. The honeycomb insides of a fossilised bone, the nails pulled and lips receding. Where am I going with this anyway?

My book of short stories is now available to buy here and to whet your appetite, read this wonderful review by Marc Lowe in Neon Magazine.

I feel a change coming on. Time for a revamp?

I’ve come to the decision to put Sein und Werden on hold for a while. It takes up a lot of my time and I’m beginning to lose sight of the fun and the important things. I have so much pressure on with deadlines that I feel guilty for getting irritated when the little ‘un is demanding my time. And I rarely have time to read, or sit and watch a film, my greatest pleasures. I need my escape thank you very much. So, Sein is taking it easy for a while. However, ISMs Press is going to continue in vein, with the publication of 3 e-books this year. Well, definitely 3 e-books, maybe this year. The first is coming in January, a collection called Sui Generis and other stories by Marc Lowe. After this last (but not final!) Bauhaus issue of Sein which I am hoping to get done pre-Christmas. But hey, we’ll see how it goes. Then it’s piles of books I have to review but first, and first and first after Sein I’m going to relax for a little while. Even if it’s only a week. I’m going to lie on the bed and read my Diane Arbus biography and not feel guilty. I’m going to watch my favourite, inspirational films. I’m going to get clicky and take some photos that are NOT snapshots.

And I’m going to embrace the Christmas holiday. I’m not a fan of Christmas. Commerical shite. But it’s different now. So we’ve put up decorations (a first for me) and J twisted the lights around the banister (we don’t have room for a tree) and Violet’s eyes went big and round when she saw them. And we’ll all be merry and bright.