i'm going to iron maiden! i thumbs me nose and sticks me tongue out at those who are not. yoho!speaking of pretending to be hard (but really being a bit of a dag), i got a new flaming skull tattoo. it's the gift i gave myself to celebrate giving up smoking. i had to wait three months since i quit, essentially because i thought i wasn't doing a very good job of it. i'm starting to trust myself not to start again now, though i haven't yet evolved an actual dislike of the habit, just of its nastier effects.
i believe the lack of regular suppressants in my system to be directly responsible for the surfacing of some funny little emotions. occasional emotions aren't so bad. i still have several techniques left for suppressing them, which is something you need to do if you a)suffer from periodic bouts of dysthymia and b)wish to retain your friends. cause whinging about a) generally precludes b).
which brings me to the writing/mental health matrix. i've been thinking about it a fair bit lately, as i scratch out the shape of this new book and abstractedly wonder, between bouts of staring into the middle distance, what makes us scrabble for meaning in the dust like curious chooks. i have come to a few conclusions:(trade secret: chilli and pickles before bed.)
there is only one thing to be done about all this, and that is listen to screamingly loud metal which sandpapers the inside of your skull until it is nice and shiny and clean.
speaking of headcleaning, there's been a bit of activity around the ol' Alice lately, with the festival and all. i was in two things. one was the poetry reading on the lawn in the mall, which is an annual event, and was well attended by about three individuals, and at which we got to hear one of our alderpeople recite 'the owl and the pussycat' (this town is odd). the other was the 'trashed' tip shop exhibition (art made out of rubbish, yeah!) but only because i snuck some audio into someone else's artwork.
neither of these things were anywhere near as much fun as the cabaret night and in particular a rendition of the thriller dance that will be hard to erase from our collective memory. did i mention this town is odd?
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5 Comments:
hey jenjen,
it sure is good to hear from you again. and what an excellent post! i like what you say about writing... it makes me miss it. but not that much. and i like the photo of the chickens!
i might fix that bright green now you mention it.
love and chilli pickles
xx
Dear Jen,
Your blog has curbed my desire to click random things 'cos they sound good. Thanks for the 'biscuit flies' pic though. Although it was not a biscuit-in-the-shape-of-a-fly that I was hoping for, it was nonetheless an enlightening (if gross) experience.
Lisa x
fly-shaped biscuits! i'm gonna make the... thing...
i've forgotten what we used to call cookie cutters before the seppos took over.
Biscuit cutters?
on consideration, i think we just called them 'shapes.'
mum also had a 3D anodised gingerbread man mould. it was orange and tasted weird.
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