My little treasure.
It has been a while. But i've needed a bit more colour...
http://abithinesy.blogspot.com
Friday 21 October 2011
Friday 26 August 2011
Pink news
Today a lady with pink hair gave me some good news. Some very good news.
It's definitely why we all need to wear more colour, and feel colour and be colour.
And love the world again (Yes I know I sound like a hippy). But it's true. The simple things keep you going. For me, its cupcakes, creation (music, food, art, writing) and of course my friends and family.
This song is for today.
It's definitely why we all need to wear more colour, and feel colour and be colour.
And love the world again (Yes I know I sound like a hippy). But it's true. The simple things keep you going. For me, its cupcakes, creation (music, food, art, writing) and of course my friends and family.
This song is for today.
From now on, I want things to look up. No excuses. I'm not going to miss out on anything.
Thursday 25 August 2011
Art Exhibition: Love Is What You Want, Tracey Emin
I saw this exhibition at the most perfect time. My brain is like a black space filled with millions of colourful puzzle pieces; some fit and some don't, and that's just me.
I find art exhibitions quite interesting, more so from how they make me feel. Most of the time I can't wait to see them, but when I am there I feel desperate to get outside again. They can be quite...stuffy. Whether thats the people, or just the fact that most of the time you have to be quiet and there can be too many people around you tend to feel a bit squashed, theres a strange sense I feel when there-perhaps it was this exhibition itself.
Tracey Emin has has her heart ripped out and put back in again. It fits 97% right, but there's a slight gap and slight un-fix where her soul has been placed back in an awkward angle. I really feel for her. Perhaps there should be limits in the amount of people that can attend such exhibitions; I try to imagine myself alone, completely alone with no body around me so I can capture and inhale all that I see.
One of my faveourite moments was when I was able to enter the neon room by myself. It was more a long black corridoor lit by fantastic words of art. Some echoed in my mind, all too familiar as some I had once kept telling myself:
Of course no picture truly represents the great colour blaring in your face in person. Clearly, this woman has really suffered, she's been depressed. A blank gritty being in which is all too familiar.
Myself, a past in documentary film making-one of her documentaries I saw I really did not enjoy. 'Sometimes the dress is worth more money than the money'. Whether it is because I didn't understand it completely or, well. Who knows. In room 3 'trauma' recorded her collection of pieces representing her experience of abortion. Words echo with me when watching the film... I can't remember the name or find it yet (I hope to find it scrawling through the exhibition book I bought-will add it in!!), the words Tracey speaks describing how you feel like a failure, that ultimate guilt and failure of what you have become, in getting pregnant unexpectedly, saying 'it wasn't choosing to have an abortion it was choosing to not have a child', were very interesting. I'm glad she had her boyfriend there, though the shock that it didn't work in the first place, Tracey had to be rushed into hospital were at this point as she made her way out of the taxi, something slipped and she realised between her thighs and her hands was the dead fetus a failed abortion had left her with. I'm sure we all know what it feels like when our body gives up on us and medical procedures aren't always what they promised...
I can't remember whether I dreamt this, or if it was something I saw recently. Ok it was, it was on a modelling programme stuck on E4 for sometime recently. The phrase 'I just wanna give her a hug'. Well it's a phrase commonly said (though not for a while now) between someone I know-we both share the understanding of this desire. Clearly, when there is so much animosity in one person you know there is something else going on inside. We all have butchered attempts at trying to hide it; with anger, arrogance, sarcasm, being loud, being quiet, binge eating, drinking, substances e.t.c. though some have the ability to see past this and recognise all this person is doing is crying for help. They are trying to fix themselves in some way-there is always a difference in helping yourself in a healthy way, or a negative way.
I want to hug Tracey Emin. I love her work. Of course, it is all an expression of her-it has clearly been her release. I think when one experiences all that pain and all the puzzles we require in order to stick back our brains again we have to find healthy ways to do so, otherwise we risk going into greater danger again. We need to filter the good from our experiences:
We can all learn from this, its the beauty of Tracey Emin. What I also find remarkable about her is in her Blankets she quotes (often through her other pieces as well):
There was a moment when I discovered Tracey's abortion pieces on the wall; a iud copper coil, pregnancy tests, flowers in the name of blood aborted fetus. I don't know if it's from medical self experiences or if someone who was diving into the unknown at that experience; at first I was unsure about the set up and the room, as I said at the start I felt desperate to get out of the exhibition and whizz through (knowing in my mind I had paid to see her, it also kept me from walking out), the more I delved the more I didn't want to stay. In my 90 minutes of being there, I felt her and felt myself in a way I haven't for a long time. I don't believe its the finding someone else who has experience all of this pain, I didn't feel like finally someone else who has felt similar things. I believe most of all I felt, it was nice for someone to let it out. She's let it all out, again something of which we can all learn from.
There was also a girl who I heard mutter 'why on earth did she get herself pregnant'. I'm not sure if this girl believe in abortion or not (abortion I am totally for), perhaps she didn't understand Tracey's motives behind it. The layout for me was perfect in the 'Trauma' section because for someone like me who doesn't know her history, you piece together her emotions in a pattern, unknown to how it all happened. We also read a marvellous piece written by Tracey's madness in working out whether she was pregnant or not (this time she wasn't) though we sense she has a strange relationship with fertility. It's only then when we move onto a dark room (with the film name I am unable to remember) that she goes on to explain her fertility is 90% odd positive to not get pregnant and that the Doctors totally cocked up her chances in being put through for an abortion.
We all will roll our eyes at the NHS. All money aside, health shouldn't be messed with especially just because our treatment is free.
Tracey's self portraits of masturbation, words gashing out heartbreak and signs of penis hope. It is a bleak cold and hot pursuit of love unattainable to ones self. I've felt it myself, in a way you want to abuse yourself because you feel so ugly, so rejected and thrown, smashed to pieces in a way you clamour onto methods and ways to stretch your mind from thinking about them. And these to be released. To be performed. Discussed, let go of, and freed.
I loved Tracey Emin's documentary on being free, with dancing. Out of all the shit she has become free for her and no-one else.
I'm sure I will have more words to add to this piece.
I find art exhibitions quite interesting, more so from how they make me feel. Most of the time I can't wait to see them, but when I am there I feel desperate to get outside again. They can be quite...stuffy. Whether thats the people, or just the fact that most of the time you have to be quiet and there can be too many people around you tend to feel a bit squashed, theres a strange sense I feel when there-perhaps it was this exhibition itself.
Tracey Emin has has her heart ripped out and put back in again. It fits 97% right, but there's a slight gap and slight un-fix where her soul has been placed back in an awkward angle. I really feel for her. Perhaps there should be limits in the amount of people that can attend such exhibitions; I try to imagine myself alone, completely alone with no body around me so I can capture and inhale all that I see.
One of my faveourite moments was when I was able to enter the neon room by myself. It was more a long black corridoor lit by fantastic words of art. Some echoed in my mind, all too familiar as some I had once kept telling myself:
Of course no picture truly represents the great colour blaring in your face in person. Clearly, this woman has really suffered, she's been depressed. A blank gritty being in which is all too familiar.
Myself, a past in documentary film making-one of her documentaries I saw I really did not enjoy. 'Sometimes the dress is worth more money than the money'. Whether it is because I didn't understand it completely or, well. Who knows. In room 3 'trauma' recorded her collection of pieces representing her experience of abortion. Words echo with me when watching the film... I can't remember the name or find it yet (I hope to find it scrawling through the exhibition book I bought-will add it in!!), the words Tracey speaks describing how you feel like a failure, that ultimate guilt and failure of what you have become, in getting pregnant unexpectedly, saying 'it wasn't choosing to have an abortion it was choosing to not have a child', were very interesting. I'm glad she had her boyfriend there, though the shock that it didn't work in the first place, Tracey had to be rushed into hospital were at this point as she made her way out of the taxi, something slipped and she realised between her thighs and her hands was the dead fetus a failed abortion had left her with. I'm sure we all know what it feels like when our body gives up on us and medical procedures aren't always what they promised...
I can't remember whether I dreamt this, or if it was something I saw recently. Ok it was, it was on a modelling programme stuck on E4 for sometime recently. The phrase 'I just wanna give her a hug'. Well it's a phrase commonly said (though not for a while now) between someone I know-we both share the understanding of this desire. Clearly, when there is so much animosity in one person you know there is something else going on inside. We all have butchered attempts at trying to hide it; with anger, arrogance, sarcasm, being loud, being quiet, binge eating, drinking, substances e.t.c. though some have the ability to see past this and recognise all this person is doing is crying for help. They are trying to fix themselves in some way-there is always a difference in helping yourself in a healthy way, or a negative way.
I want to hug Tracey Emin. I love her work. Of course, it is all an expression of her-it has clearly been her release. I think when one experiences all that pain and all the puzzles we require in order to stick back our brains again we have to find healthy ways to do so, otherwise we risk going into greater danger again. We need to filter the good from our experiences:
'I think all the experiences add to make the person but I could have done well without the traumas in my life. What I've done is used my experiences to my advantage, turning the negative around to the positive. That's one of the greatest things that trauma can teach.'
We can all learn from this, its the beauty of Tracey Emin. What I also find remarkable about her is in her Blankets she quotes (often through her other pieces as well):
Hopefully you are able to see in the top left blanket, Tracey writes. Amongst all the ugly she speaks about she quotes 'so beautiful' in how I feel she is almost laughing knowingly that there is beauty within the bleak ugly that we feel. We laugh, we smile with our experiences and learn.'So beautiful'
There was a moment when I discovered Tracey's abortion pieces on the wall; a iud copper coil, pregnancy tests, flowers in the name of blood aborted fetus. I don't know if it's from medical self experiences or if someone who was diving into the unknown at that experience; at first I was unsure about the set up and the room, as I said at the start I felt desperate to get out of the exhibition and whizz through (knowing in my mind I had paid to see her, it also kept me from walking out), the more I delved the more I didn't want to stay. In my 90 minutes of being there, I felt her and felt myself in a way I haven't for a long time. I don't believe its the finding someone else who has experience all of this pain, I didn't feel like finally someone else who has felt similar things. I believe most of all I felt, it was nice for someone to let it out. She's let it all out, again something of which we can all learn from.
There was also a girl who I heard mutter 'why on earth did she get herself pregnant'. I'm not sure if this girl believe in abortion or not (abortion I am totally for), perhaps she didn't understand Tracey's motives behind it. The layout for me was perfect in the 'Trauma' section because for someone like me who doesn't know her history, you piece together her emotions in a pattern, unknown to how it all happened. We also read a marvellous piece written by Tracey's madness in working out whether she was pregnant or not (this time she wasn't) though we sense she has a strange relationship with fertility. It's only then when we move onto a dark room (with the film name I am unable to remember) that she goes on to explain her fertility is 90% odd positive to not get pregnant and that the Doctors totally cocked up her chances in being put through for an abortion.
We all will roll our eyes at the NHS. All money aside, health shouldn't be messed with especially just because our treatment is free.
Tracey's self portraits of masturbation, words gashing out heartbreak and signs of penis hope. It is a bleak cold and hot pursuit of love unattainable to ones self. I've felt it myself, in a way you want to abuse yourself because you feel so ugly, so rejected and thrown, smashed to pieces in a way you clamour onto methods and ways to stretch your mind from thinking about them. And these to be released. To be performed. Discussed, let go of, and freed.
I loved Tracey Emin's documentary on being free, with dancing. Out of all the shit she has become free for her and no-one else.
I'm sure I will have more words to add to this piece.
Missing you
Clanky pan I miss you and I also miss myself. I think that's why you have become a distant measure of my writing.
You will be continued, I promise. I don't make promises that often, though this one is going to exist.
You will be continued, I promise. I don't make promises that often, though this one is going to exist.
Sunday 24 July 2011
The Clanky Pan, that is me
Hello blog. I have missed you for a good few weeks. I think I have been asleep for a very long time, months even. Things only now just seem to look light again.
There has been a series of unfortunate events, all to self. Some created by self and some which have purely happened out of my hands. In all honesty I have been too afraid to blog in the past in fear of not writing anything which may be good enough, all in aid of facing up to the real facts of my life-past and present.
Time wears us and forever will I believe in the 'bruised brain' theory. Though, with our bruised brains, perhaps they will always be bruised until we truly deal with our ways from the past and making them clearer in the present. I have always said, and will always say that one can only learn; this being from self and from others too. For me it only takes a few words or a glance of an eye to get some perspective from those I talk to. I love it so. Their adventures make mine all the more worthwhile.
One of the things I find most interesting, not only about the people I know but the generalisation we all hold to ourselves; will anybody ever escape that phase of hating ourselves for some particular reason? I wouldn't say it is guilt towards our behaviour towards others, just the matter of hating ourselves for literally being who we are. What seems most unfortunate in it all is that a huge part which creates these thoughts are not always self inflicted, some come from the words of others which build in our own mind and weigh us down. The more we hear something from someone I think it understandable in it being unavoidable to absorb-we feel worthless. Also, we have a strange bearing to overwhelm ourselves with self hate purely caused by our own personalities and thoughts. With what should seem the norm seems so much effort and motivation to even look after self, it goes out of the window.
These self stages are very scary.
My words must seem very vague. Whilst writing this piece, well of course I want to write the truth. I want to write the tales of my last two weeks, though for the mean time until my mind is set I shall linger.
I think right now, I am going through a stage of huge overwhelment. Pieces of the puzzle have come to a close, it feels like the beginning of an end and of course a new horizon to explore. One can only feel so gifted with joy all the while feeling like there is no chance one wants to let go...just in case.
If the pieces of the puzzle have come together, well, why does one still have to express some fear? Perhaps hesitation would be a more appropriate word considering a person experiences something fairly traumatic, like I say, we learn from our experiences. Shouldn't one know that if someone puts all into something, it's better doing that than saying you gave half of your effort. Right now all of my efforts should be in putting things straight, building myself back up again and establishing who I was months ago. Months ago there was no fear, only courage.
That image needs to re-appear again. What can you throw at me now, but not in a negative sense. Those words now should mean, what can you throw at me now-what else is there that I can explore?
There has been a series of unfortunate events, all to self. Some created by self and some which have purely happened out of my hands. In all honesty I have been too afraid to blog in the past in fear of not writing anything which may be good enough, all in aid of facing up to the real facts of my life-past and present.
Time wears us and forever will I believe in the 'bruised brain' theory. Though, with our bruised brains, perhaps they will always be bruised until we truly deal with our ways from the past and making them clearer in the present. I have always said, and will always say that one can only learn; this being from self and from others too. For me it only takes a few words or a glance of an eye to get some perspective from those I talk to. I love it so. Their adventures make mine all the more worthwhile.
One of the things I find most interesting, not only about the people I know but the generalisation we all hold to ourselves; will anybody ever escape that phase of hating ourselves for some particular reason? I wouldn't say it is guilt towards our behaviour towards others, just the matter of hating ourselves for literally being who we are. What seems most unfortunate in it all is that a huge part which creates these thoughts are not always self inflicted, some come from the words of others which build in our own mind and weigh us down. The more we hear something from someone I think it understandable in it being unavoidable to absorb-we feel worthless. Also, we have a strange bearing to overwhelm ourselves with self hate purely caused by our own personalities and thoughts. With what should seem the norm seems so much effort and motivation to even look after self, it goes out of the window.
These self stages are very scary.
My words must seem very vague. Whilst writing this piece, well of course I want to write the truth. I want to write the tales of my last two weeks, though for the mean time until my mind is set I shall linger.
I think right now, I am going through a stage of huge overwhelment. Pieces of the puzzle have come to a close, it feels like the beginning of an end and of course a new horizon to explore. One can only feel so gifted with joy all the while feeling like there is no chance one wants to let go...just in case.
If the pieces of the puzzle have come together, well, why does one still have to express some fear? Perhaps hesitation would be a more appropriate word considering a person experiences something fairly traumatic, like I say, we learn from our experiences. Shouldn't one know that if someone puts all into something, it's better doing that than saying you gave half of your effort. Right now all of my efforts should be in putting things straight, building myself back up again and establishing who I was months ago. Months ago there was no fear, only courage.
That image needs to re-appear again. What can you throw at me now, but not in a negative sense. Those words now should mean, what can you throw at me now-what else is there that I can explore?
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