Playing with buttons,

Otis Redding,

Winona in paradise,

Rike Doepp by Robert Wunsch,

& The Selby.

Some details from an outfit I wore earlier this week.

And hey, here's some good music you should all listen to.

I'm sort of getting tired of blogging. More on that later.

A few days before the last, I ran a bath and filled it with vermillion. As I sat and peered at white foam growing beneath the water as it punctured itself, I realized my craving for the sound of drums and strums and crooning voices. A crackle of neural energy, somewhere underneath my scalp, occurred in the form of a notion. My fingers grasped for the cabinet handle and holding its breath under shadows an old friend resided. I apologized as I blew and rubbed where a thick layer of grey garnered in between plastic creases. The knob clicked on as my fingers guided the volume higher until it reached its end. Through the static I rolled, as it grew thinner, wider, playing games with my ear canal. The skin upon my fingers moist from temperature measure, I slipped past a gentle guitar strum, and when I scrolled back from the screech of the static a man’s voice echoed in between tiles and scorched liquid, melted vermillion and my own wet skin. A drum began to shed noise in even paces, a series of palms clinging to one another for merely a moment, reverberating between my consciousness. They all built among one another as the tide turned behind the white of my eyes and the drops of waves fell from my chin and became one with the body water. When the song had concluded I lay in a pool of salt and tap and waited for the man in a glass booth to give this series of sounds a name.

p.s.



lol.

This is what I wore to study today.

This is me showcasing my hair, and oh shit! It's pink again!

This is the song I've been listening to on repeat for the past several days.

This is me saying bye because I have an exam in seven hours. Bye!

Top and blazer are thrifted. Tights are from a halloween costume shop called Malabar located in Toronto.

if you take a walk, i'll tax your feet

I hate photobooth. I need my camera back, but you know how odd that shit would take photos in my six inch bedroom apartment? It would be like trying to fit a large jungle animal into a baby carriage. Maybe I'll get a photographer when I start photography classes? Before that? Never? Always? Hm.

Anyways, in the past week I've moved here I've become vegan, spent too much money on vintage clothing than needed, started reading four books all at once, frolicked around downtown barefoot, met some exponentially awesome people, watched Edward Scissorhands for the first time, etc etc. To be honest I'm positive I'm not having the same experience as people in actual residences of universities and with actual frosh weeks (come to the conclusion our orientation week coordinators think that us art school freaks are incapable of socializing, and can only paint) but I've managed to sneak some nights in of university hopping and whatnot.

So, this is what I wore today, gave off somewhat of a mother-baking-with-a-floral-apron-on sort of vibe. Then I threw on the Doc Martens and negated that vibe. Or maybe now I just looked like a mother who would kick your ass with her big black boots if you interrupted her as she mixed her cookie batter? Played guitar instead of folding laundry to relieve stress? Will iron her son's grungy clothes as opposed to his school uniform? (am I being a little too obvious as to what I wish to look forward to when becoming a mother?)

By the way, I don't know if you've noticed but I've sort of become fond of taking black things and turning them into bows. Today was a pair of black leggings. You can make anything into a bow if you improvise, really.

Oh and look at what the fuck I found the other day.


That's right. A Revolver lunchbox. They also had Sgt. Peppers. Almost considered getting them both until my mother chose for me so we weren't in a financial pickle. My mother isn't here to help me control my finances now, though. You can imagine what my bank account must look like now. (nearlyemptycough)

PS. The building to my fire alarm rang minutes after the last picture was taken. Apparently people on the fourth floor of this building don't know how to properly remove a bagel from a toaster. (and good luck in university to you, sir)

Black button up undershirt, H&M. Black skirt, thrifted. Floral printed skirt, Forever 21. Bow, tied up pair of black leggings. Doc Martens, thrifted. Sunglasses, Kensington Market.

draculahead

I don't think I posted this here before, but this is a video I made last summer to Metric's 'Rock Me Now' after watching several films directed by Grant Gee and David Lynch and music videos inspired by the latter. I considered going into something cinematography related but ended up going to school for general fine arts instead. Films are one of my passions though - I'm currently trying to watch every movie on the Criterion Collection list. The last one I saw was Peeping Tom. Probably the most eccentric film I've ever seen. Eccentric is putting it nicely. It's like calling Anna Piaggi completely normal. You think that shit's going to make sense? Nuh uh.



Speaking of weird films, I saw flyers for this all around Toronto and I am so there it's not even funny. 7pm Monday bitches. But honestly how amazing is this combination? The first time I saw it on a street pole punctured by staples I almost wept. I literally took the flyer for it down and hung it up in my room. Currently staring at it as I type. (/fan girl rant) Oh and I'll add in a clip of the film to the song 'Idioteque' too. Makes zee heart swell, no? (channelling my inner french woman). Oh god speaking of, I successfully convinced many, many people I was an exchange student from England last night after speaking in a british accent for no less than twenty five minutes. Apparently intoxication will do that to you. BUT THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT, back to stereo face (radio head, eh eh?)





I bought Kid A on vinyl yesterday too. Best 31.95 I've ever spent. (fan girl rant ends now i swurr) Also staring at that as I type. But it's currently nestled on my pillow so I can fall asleep cradling it in my arms like a child does to a stuffed animal.

Too much?

your mouth is running

Hazel tagged me to list seven random things about myself, which is kind of ironic because I wanted to blog but had no idea what to blog about.

i) I have a tendency to misplace things often.

ii) Whenever I'm alone in my house, all I do is sing, usually what's been in my head all week. Currently it is this. My mouth... is touching...

iii) Sometimes I feel like quitting blogging because I feel as if I come off too pretentious/narcissistic/egotistical, which is pretty contradictory to the truth.

iv) The taste of grapefruit repulses me to no end. Same goes for tonic water.

v) I could sleep like an infant listening to the sound of Alec Baldwin's voice.

vi) Today was the first day I thoroughly read an issue of i-D magazine.

vii) I find I always take out my camera in the most lethargic of moods; with the exception of photographing outfits. They aren't meant to beauty shots, but more regarding sincerity and actuality I suppose.

the night could last forever

Hi guys. Exams and new classes aside, I took time off from the blog because I felt like I needed it. Here are some pictures from the past weekends.

My outfit. Wish I'd have lost the blazer but oh well.

I love my friend's outfit here. Yellow and grey look perfect.

This song makes me feel depressed and satisfied simultaneously. 

Motion Picture Soundtrack

Red wine and sleeping pills

Help me get back to your arms

Cheap sex and sad films

Help me get where I belong

I think you're crazy, maybe

I think you're crazy, maybe

Stop sending letters

Letters always get burned

It's not like the movies

They fed us on little white lies

I think you're crazy, maybe

I think you're crazy, maybe

I will see you in the next life

(Something comes after the silence, and it's transcendental.)

Jane Birkin Sex Sounds

New shoes and Serge Gainsbourg.

why is being nude so frowned upon?

 

 

As promised, here is the coat from Old Navy. Perfect, right? The shirt is one of the freebies I collected from the Virgin Festival. I think this is the first time I'm glad a shirt is a bit oversized, because then it can fall over my shoulder to reveal the word naked on a horizontal angle as opposed to 45 degrees (don't think I forgot my math)

I just found out I'm going to Montreal for this coming march break. If anyone could tell me some good places to shop, I will be ever so grateful.

PS. This song is currently my obsession (no, it isn't Radiohead)

"typical canadian girls..."

Drinking in abandoned food courts. Promoting energy drinks on live television inebriated. Friends with just about every person we walked by. Chasing MGMT in golf carts then awkwardly meeting them a half hour later ("Sorry about that..."). Being physically abused by security, then sharing alcohol with their fellow security guards. Dancing like Thom Yorke to MGMT and Bloc Party. Riding golf carts with employees. Kissing and hugging. Passing out of exhaustion to Foo Fighters.

This is Virgin Festival.

post-concert depression

the radiohead concert was on friday as well. i feel like i'm depressed all over again thinking about it. i just want those two hours to last forever and ever. honestly, this played a pivotal role in my quest to lucid dream. i just need it back.