'ello loves!
so, the very fun act of staying Up All Night.
I've done it, have you? (I think that at some point, everyone has to)
I don't know about you, but when I do, I brew a special kind of tea called Death In A Metal Waterbottle.
(self-invented, of course)
and I keep it with me All Night Long, just in case.
it is made of:
black tea
jasmine tea
green tea
earl grey tea
english breakfast tea
and hot water. (steep overnight, while being enjoyed.)
and then the fun begins!
I personally believe that I write the best around, say, 1:30 or so, and so I grab my notebook and pen with shaking hands and sit and wait and read and wait.
I also believe that in that hour, poetry is best enjoyed. so I do that, too. I find it difficult to simply sit and read Our Dear Edgar (Allen Poe) in the daytime hours, so... I read it then. ee!
and I sit, and wait, and read, and write, until I get antsy and I want to Jump Out of the Window, and roam around outside and leap about with faeries.
which of course I can't do, but I can imagine it, can't I?
and this is all very well, and I can feel the buzzing in my blood vessels, and I get all giddy like you should, until I don't feel so giddy anymore, around, say, 3:30 or so, and then I find it helpful to lay quietly in my bed for a half-an-hour or so.
(remember, dears, it's not cheating unless you fall asleep!)
and then I'm back again, raring to go on with a 4 o'clock-in-the-morning tea party, for which I get dressed up in my very-best witchy-dress with puffy sleeves and lacey-goodness and my stripey-stockings full of holes and louse-ladders (the more the better, as I'm sure you understand) and have MORE tea, perhaps even fresh tea, if I'm quiet...!
and then around, say, 5:00 or so, I'm chill and cool on the window seat, and 6:00 is too boring for words, and 7:00 I'm Up! and it's time to change back into my non-witchy goodness and get ready as quiet as a mousey.
and then, around, say, 10:00 or so, I'm back to bed! til about 1-ish with a headache and an upset tummy.
the end!
<3
Friday, December 30, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
A Letter to That Kind of Woman
Dearest Kat,
good eve!
I write to you now to ask (with a bit of desperation and heaps of admiration) for help! regarding clothing.
you see, I am in a curious situation, that being, I go off to school on a farm.
tis my second year, and after this, I shall have one more year.
the problem, of course, is that I'm rather a City Kind of Kiddo, and my personal style (ha! I feel sort of silly and posh, my personal style,) is finally developing.
If you'll allow, I'll now tell my clothing story, as it were.
*ahem*
when I was a youth, t'was nothing more important (clothing-wise) than comfort. do you remember when gaucho pants were The Thing? well, every so often, I would go to Gap or Old Navy and stock up on black gauchos and black sweatpants. and for years, that was all I wore, with t-shirts, and the occasional sweatshirt.
and then I got a bit older, and I moved from black sweatpants to black skinny jeans, and again, that and a t-shirt was all I wore.
then, during my first year at my current school, I would obsessively wear a black sweatshirt over everything I wore, which was a t-shirt and black skinny jeans.
and then I got a bit of sense, and I would wear button-down shirts and jeans.
and that was it.
but!
I've fully grown tired of that, and I've gotten addicted to dresses, and folded up jeans, toms, and stockings, and big knitted sweaters, and charming arm-warmers, and rustic, wrinkled scarves, and I've gotten over myself enough to wear a cute t-shirt without a sweatshirt, and all of that goodness.
yay!
and so, finally, my question is how to keep my style still my style, and to, perhaps, keep developing it, whilst I'm attending my little farm-school. (it's not a school for farming, it's a long story...), for I understand you yourself live or have lived on a farm!
I really quite admire your tumblr, and your clothing posts, and all of that. and you. you're suups cool, lady. <3
thanks for making it, your tumbler.
seriously.
xoxoxoxo
Isa
P.S.
I positively dream of college, what is getting a degree in English like?
and about college (this isn't necessarily to Kat, but it can be, if you want,)
what the devil is one to do if one wished to get a degree in cooking and/or baking, violin (or viola or 'cello, if I ever manage to learn them), language (french, italian, romanian, and japanese are the languages I wish to learn/am learning now), fictional writing, some kind of art, and English (what do you even do with that?) .
god help me.
x
good eve!
I write to you now to ask (with a bit of desperation and heaps of admiration) for help! regarding clothing.
you see, I am in a curious situation, that being, I go off to school on a farm.
tis my second year, and after this, I shall have one more year.
the problem, of course, is that I'm rather a City Kind of Kiddo, and my personal style (ha! I feel sort of silly and posh, my personal style,) is finally developing.
If you'll allow, I'll now tell my clothing story, as it were.
*ahem*
when I was a youth, t'was nothing more important (clothing-wise) than comfort. do you remember when gaucho pants were The Thing? well, every so often, I would go to Gap or Old Navy and stock up on black gauchos and black sweatpants. and for years, that was all I wore, with t-shirts, and the occasional sweatshirt.
and then I got a bit older, and I moved from black sweatpants to black skinny jeans, and again, that and a t-shirt was all I wore.
then, during my first year at my current school, I would obsessively wear a black sweatshirt over everything I wore, which was a t-shirt and black skinny jeans.
and then I got a bit of sense, and I would wear button-down shirts and jeans.
and that was it.
but!
I've fully grown tired of that, and I've gotten addicted to dresses, and folded up jeans, toms, and stockings, and big knitted sweaters, and charming arm-warmers, and rustic, wrinkled scarves, and I've gotten over myself enough to wear a cute t-shirt without a sweatshirt, and all of that goodness.
yay!
and so, finally, my question is how to keep my style still my style, and to, perhaps, keep developing it, whilst I'm attending my little farm-school. (it's not a school for farming, it's a long story...), for I understand you yourself live or have lived on a farm!
I really quite admire your tumblr, and your clothing posts, and all of that. and you. you're suups cool, lady. <3
thanks for making it, your tumbler.
seriously.
xoxoxoxo
Isa
P.S.
I positively dream of college, what is getting a degree in English like?
and about college (this isn't necessarily to Kat, but it can be, if you want,)
what the devil is one to do if one wished to get a degree in cooking and/or baking, violin (or viola or 'cello, if I ever manage to learn them), language (french, italian, romanian, and japanese are the languages I wish to learn/am learning now), fictional writing, some kind of art, and English (what do you even do with that?) .
god help me.
x
Bread
'ello, loves!
Hand-made bread is a glorious thing.
also, if you make risingsunbakery.wordpress.com/2011/01/10/rsb-challah, Lily's Challah, with half all-purpous and half whole grain flour, it makes the most delicious whole grain (un-challah) bread in the world ever.
seriously.
in other news, I go through bouts of reading through That Kind Of Woman, an amazing tumbler. I love.
http://thatkindofwoman.tumblr.com/
yesh.
x
Hand-made bread is a glorious thing.
also, if you make risingsunbakery.wordpress.com/2011/01/10/rsb-challah, Lily's Challah, with half all-purpous and half whole grain flour, it makes the most delicious whole grain (un-challah) bread in the world ever.
seriously.
in other news, I go through bouts of reading through That Kind Of Woman, an amazing tumbler. I love.
http://thatkindofwoman.tumblr.com/
yesh.
x
Friday, August 12, 2011
Solemn Pig, at last!
Good day, Lovelies!
wow, so I thought for sure I had posted this a long time ago...
I guess not.
no matter!
at long last, here is the ever lovely Solemn Pig!
Sunday, May 15, 2011
I heard a bat! and things to do with Veronica Varlow...
yes indeed!
if you've never heard one before, allow me to describe the experience:
to start it off, we had just viewed Cloverfield , and when we got outside, the sky looked soooo weird, all cloudy, but the clouds were scooped out or something... awesome in itself. it was humid and windy, not too cold, and thundering/lightning-ing(?). I could feel the electricity in the air, in a breathless sort of way. I climbed up onto the table to get a better view, and stayed there for almost an hour. at one point, I swear there was a pentagram in the clouds, so I greeted the Lady. not soon after (or before, or during, I can't remember which), the bats came out to hunt. at first, I didn't notice, for I often wonder if I've finally fallen off, and then I realized what I was hearing. It grew louder as the bat flew closer, filling my mind with it's beautiful noise. as it flew away, my ears were almost ringing, and I wondered if it was still calling or if I was imagining it.
probably both.
and as for theDanger Dame Veronica Varlow, I was very saddened to read this . (ahem! I'm talking about the second one!) and am very proud to have contributed to this, though not directly.
I sent her a letter with the aforementioned money in a second envelope.
I dearly love her, and hope she feels much, much better in the coming times.
we love you, V!
if you've never heard one before, allow me to describe the experience:
to start it off, we had just viewed Cloverfield , and when we got outside, the sky looked soooo weird, all cloudy, but the clouds were scooped out or something... awesome in itself. it was humid and windy, not too cold, and thundering/lightning-ing(?). I could feel the electricity in the air, in a breathless sort of way. I climbed up onto the table to get a better view, and stayed there for almost an hour. at one point, I swear there was a pentagram in the clouds, so I greeted the Lady. not soon after (or before, or during, I can't remember which), the bats came out to hunt. at first, I didn't notice, for I often wonder if I've finally fallen off, and then I realized what I was hearing. It grew louder as the bat flew closer, filling my mind with it's beautiful noise. as it flew away, my ears were almost ringing, and I wondered if it was still calling or if I was imagining it.
probably both.
and as for theDanger Dame Veronica Varlow, I was very saddened to read this . (ahem! I'm talking about the second one!) and am very proud to have contributed to this, though not directly.
I sent her a letter with the aforementioned money in a second envelope.
I dearly love her, and hope she feels much, much better in the coming times.
we love you, V!
Sunday, March 27, 2011
A good many things, but mostly just three.
'ello loves!
goodness, it has been quite a long time, has it not?
to get us rolling right along here:
Thing the First: I have learned (throughout the afore-mentioned "being vegan week") that it is nearly impossible to do so when you are eating the foods an entire community eats, and you can't bloody plan your own menu (yes, indeed, we partake in "menu-planning" for the week at my lovely boarding school) and you aren't buying and making your own food (though some people had taken the time to actually make vegan food, thanks a lot to them).
Thing the Second: I'm home! and I've been so for over a week now, though it hardly feels like it. *tangent* and you know my very favourite part about being home? when people ask you a question while you're eating lunch or dinner or something, and then everyone stops and stares at you, waiting for a very-detailed answer. and usually, it's the same question they asked last time you were home. and before that. and then, other people ask the same bloody questions, and it goes on and on and on and it drives me bloody well INSANE! and then, oh, and then, they have the absolute gaul to ask when I'm leaving, which is not exactly something I feel absolutely joyous about... *un-tangent*
Thing the Third: today, I fell in love with the art of Margaret Wall-Romana (http://mwallromana.com/). AMAZING!
xo
goodness, it has been quite a long time, has it not?
to get us rolling right along here:
Thing the First: I have learned (throughout the afore-mentioned "being vegan week") that it is nearly impossible to do so when you are eating the foods an entire community eats, and you can't bloody plan your own menu (yes, indeed, we partake in "menu-planning" for the week at my lovely boarding school) and you aren't buying and making your own food (though some people had taken the time to actually make vegan food, thanks a lot to them).
Thing the Second: I'm home! and I've been so for over a week now, though it hardly feels like it. *tangent* and you know my very favourite part about being home? when people ask you a question while you're eating lunch or dinner or something, and then everyone stops and stares at you, waiting for a very-detailed answer. and usually, it's the same question they asked last time you were home. and before that. and then, other people ask the same bloody questions, and it goes on and on and on and it drives me bloody well INSANE! and then, oh, and then, they have the absolute gaul to ask when I'm leaving, which is not exactly something I feel absolutely joyous about... *un-tangent*
Thing the Third: today, I fell in love with the art of Margaret Wall-Romana (http://mwallromana.com/). AMAZING!
xo
Saturday, February 12, 2011
And now for something completely different...
'ello, Lovelies!
I've noticed that my posts are becoming rather scattered as of late...
---
anyway, I'm finally completely alone (accept for an off-duty houseparent) since I've been home, and joyous am I!
my house has always been very calm, clean and just plain quiet, so whenever I can get that here I try to enjoy it to the fullest.
---
in other news, I'm going vegan for a week, starting monday.
I've been wanting to do it for a while (though I'd never made much progress, accept the occasional summer day when I would spend all day outside reading about it, and then (when I was younger then I am now) my blood sugar would become all askew from eating little to nothing all day) and now I have an actual reason to, for I am doing it as a project for my nutrition class (along with a report, of course.)
---
people have returned.
---
I've noticed that my posts are becoming rather scattered as of late...
---
anyway, I'm finally completely alone (accept for an off-duty houseparent) since I've been home, and joyous am I!
my house has always been very calm, clean and just plain quiet, so whenever I can get that here I try to enjoy it to the fullest.
---
in other news, I'm going vegan for a week, starting monday.
I've been wanting to do it for a while (though I'd never made much progress, accept the occasional summer day when I would spend all day outside reading about it, and then (when I was younger then I am now) my blood sugar would become all askew from eating little to nothing all day) and now I have an actual reason to, for I am doing it as a project for my nutrition class (along with a report, of course.)
---
people have returned.
---
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Poetry, and other unrelated things... or, I'm a canadian at heart
‘ello, Loves!
How is your weekend going?
Today, Sunday, might just be my favourite day of the week (making a tie with Saturday.)
It is the day when we can sleep in till 9:30 in the morning and have brunch. We soon after have Community Work, which makes me feel productive, and then we have the rest of the day to lounge around and do whatever until dinner and study hall.
It is the day when many people are out shopping for whatever they might need, be it toothpaste or shaving cream or socks, and very few people are left at the school.
I grew up as an only child (both of my siblings are quite a bit older, and moved out) and my family is very mellow, so I love it. I also love staying home alone, and quietness, and that’s the closest I can get.
I’ve just made myself a batch of about seven different kinds of teas, all of them very random but surprisingly ok.
Speaking of which, something I discovered within the first few days of returning to school is that it is impossible to make decent chai tea with Silk soymilk. The vanilla/sugar/whatever-is-in-it-to-make-it-sweet completely ruins it, sadly…
---
At my school, we have “Creative Expression,” and “Physical Expression,” and book groups every Wednesday instead of regular classes, something I quite enjoy.
(a note on this, my week-mantra is that you try as hard as you can not to think about Monday, and then Tuesday is almost Wednesday, and then Wednesday means the week is almost over, and then Thursday is almost Friday, and Friday is almost the weekend.)
Currently, my CE is poetry writing, which I quite enjoy.
Our most recent assignment is to write a poem to be entered into a local contest, the subject of which must be upon humanity or nature or what it means to be alive and in nature and any combination of anything of that sort.
The prizes for the winners are pretty cool, 50$ for 1st prize, 25$ for 2nd and 15$ for 3rd.
The judges are legit poets, which I think is pretty cool.
I quite like this subject, because I can be quite bitter.
Pretty much all of the poetry I’ve written has been a bit bitter, a bit sarcastic even, but I try as hard as I can for them to show the thoughtfulness that I actually put into them, and to avoid as much as possible having them fit snuggly into the “emo poetry” category.
I’m sorry to say that I really rather abhor it. but I quite enjoy the word “abhor”.
---
I’m from the united states, and I’m incredibly embarrassed to be from here. I truly am.
Of course, I can appreciate the safety and freedom of it, but at least once a day I think to myself, “I gotta get out of here.”
Maybe not that often, necessarily, but often enough.
But for now, I can’t, so I’ve decided to commit myself to changing my vocabulary from things like “eggplant” to “aubergine” and “zee” to “zed”.
(the latter, of course, was a matter of pronunciation.)
And I’m trying my hardest to (in my opinion) correctly spell things like “neighbour,” instead of “neighbor” and “grey,” instead of “gray”.
I shall post a list of words and such that I can find, and please correct me if I make a mistake.
<3
xo
How is your weekend going?
Today, Sunday, might just be my favourite day of the week (making a tie with Saturday.)
It is the day when we can sleep in till 9:30 in the morning and have brunch. We soon after have Community Work, which makes me feel productive, and then we have the rest of the day to lounge around and do whatever until dinner and study hall.
It is the day when many people are out shopping for whatever they might need, be it toothpaste or shaving cream or socks, and very few people are left at the school.
I grew up as an only child (both of my siblings are quite a bit older, and moved out) and my family is very mellow, so I love it. I also love staying home alone, and quietness, and that’s the closest I can get.
I’ve just made myself a batch of about seven different kinds of teas, all of them very random but surprisingly ok.
Speaking of which, something I discovered within the first few days of returning to school is that it is impossible to make decent chai tea with Silk soymilk. The vanilla/sugar/whatever-is-in-it-to-make-it-sweet completely ruins it, sadly…
---
At my school, we have “Creative Expression,” and “Physical Expression,” and book groups every Wednesday instead of regular classes, something I quite enjoy.
(a note on this, my week-mantra is that you try as hard as you can not to think about Monday, and then Tuesday is almost Wednesday, and then Wednesday means the week is almost over, and then Thursday is almost Friday, and Friday is almost the weekend.)
Currently, my CE is poetry writing, which I quite enjoy.
Our most recent assignment is to write a poem to be entered into a local contest, the subject of which must be upon humanity or nature or what it means to be alive and in nature and any combination of anything of that sort.
The prizes for the winners are pretty cool, 50$ for 1st prize, 25$ for 2nd and 15$ for 3rd.
The judges are legit poets, which I think is pretty cool.
I quite like this subject, because I can be quite bitter.
Pretty much all of the poetry I’ve written has been a bit bitter, a bit sarcastic even, but I try as hard as I can for them to show the thoughtfulness that I actually put into them, and to avoid as much as possible having them fit snuggly into the “emo poetry” category.
I’m sorry to say that I really rather abhor it. but I quite enjoy the word “abhor”.
---
I’m from the united states, and I’m incredibly embarrassed to be from here. I truly am.
Of course, I can appreciate the safety and freedom of it, but at least once a day I think to myself, “I gotta get out of here.”
Maybe not that often, necessarily, but often enough.
But for now, I can’t, so I’ve decided to commit myself to changing my vocabulary from things like “eggplant” to “aubergine” and “zee” to “zed”.
(the latter, of course, was a matter of pronunciation.)
And I’m trying my hardest to (in my opinion) correctly spell things like “neighbour,” instead of “neighbor” and “grey,” instead of “gray”.
I shall post a list of words and such that I can find, and please correct me if I make a mistake.
<3
xo
Poetry, and other unrelated things... or, I'm a canadian at heart
‘ello, Loves!
How is your weekend going?
Today, Sunday, might just be my favourite day of the week (making a tie with Saturday.)
It is the day when we can sleep in till 9:30 in the morning and have brunch. We soon after have Community Work, which makes me feel productive, and then we have the rest of the day to lounge around and do whatever until dinner and study hall.
It is the day when many people are out shopping for whatever they might need, be it toothpaste or shaving cream or socks, and very few people are left at the school.
I grew up as an only child (both of my siblings are quite a bit older, and moved out) and my family is very mellow, so I love it. I also love staying home alone, and quietness, and that’s the closest I can get.
I’ve just made myself a batch of about seven different kinds of teas, all of them very random but surprisingly ok.
Speaking of which, something I discovered within the first few days of returning to school is that it is impossible to make decent chai tea with Silk soymilk. The vanilla/sugar/whatever-is-in-it-to-make-it-sweet completely ruins it, sadly…
---
At my school, we have “Creative Expression,” and “Physical Expression,” and book groups every Wednesday instead of regular classes, something I quite enjoy.
(a note on this, my week-mantra is that you try as hard as you can not to think about Monday, and then Tuesday is almost Wednesday, and then Wednesday means the week is almost over, and then Thursday is almost Friday, and Friday is almost the weekend.)
Currently, my CE is poetry writing, which I quite enjoy.
Our most recent assignment is to write a poem to be entered into a local contest, the subject of which must be upon humanity or nature or what it means to be alive and in nature and any combination of anything of that sort.
The prizes for the winners are pretty cool, 50$ for 1st prize, 25$ for 2nd and 15$ for 3rd.
The judges are legit poets, which I think is pretty cool.
I quite like this subject, because I can be quite bitter.
Pretty much all of the poetry I’ve written has been a bit bitter, a bit sarcastic even, but I try as hard as I can for them to show the thoughtfulness that I actually put into them, and to avoid as much as possible having them fit snuggly into the “emo poetry” category.
I’m sorry to say that I really rather abhor it. but I quite enjoy the word “abhor”.
---
I’m from the united states, and I’m incredibly embarrassed to be from here. I truly am.
Of course, I can appreciate the safety and freedom of it, but at least once a day I think to myself, “I gotta get out of here.”
Maybe not that often, necessarily, but often enough.
But for now, I can’t, so I’ve decided to commit myself to changing my vocabulary from things like “eggplant” to “aubergine” and “zee” to “zed”.
(the latter, of course, was a matter of pronunciation.)
And I’m trying my hardest to (in my opinion) correctly spell things like “neighbour,” instead of “neighbor” and “grey,” instead of “gray”.
I shall post a list of words and such that I can find, and please correct me if I make a mistake.
<3
xo
How is your weekend going?
Today, Sunday, might just be my favourite day of the week (making a tie with Saturday.)
It is the day when we can sleep in till 9:30 in the morning and have brunch. We soon after have Community Work, which makes me feel productive, and then we have the rest of the day to lounge around and do whatever until dinner and study hall.
It is the day when many people are out shopping for whatever they might need, be it toothpaste or shaving cream or socks, and very few people are left at the school.
I grew up as an only child (both of my siblings are quite a bit older, and moved out) and my family is very mellow, so I love it. I also love staying home alone, and quietness, and that’s the closest I can get.
I’ve just made myself a batch of about seven different kinds of teas, all of them very random but surprisingly ok.
Speaking of which, something I discovered within the first few days of returning to school is that it is impossible to make decent chai tea with Silk soymilk. The vanilla/sugar/whatever-is-in-it-to-make-it-sweet completely ruins it, sadly…
---
At my school, we have “Creative Expression,” and “Physical Expression,” and book groups every Wednesday instead of regular classes, something I quite enjoy.
(a note on this, my week-mantra is that you try as hard as you can not to think about Monday, and then Tuesday is almost Wednesday, and then Wednesday means the week is almost over, and then Thursday is almost Friday, and Friday is almost the weekend.)
Currently, my CE is poetry writing, which I quite enjoy.
Our most recent assignment is to write a poem to be entered into a local contest, the subject of which must be upon humanity or nature or what it means to be alive and in nature and any combination of anything of that sort.
The prizes for the winners are pretty cool, 50$ for 1st prize, 25$ for 2nd and 15$ for 3rd.
The judges are legit poets, which I think is pretty cool.
I quite like this subject, because I can be quite bitter.
Pretty much all of the poetry I’ve written has been a bit bitter, a bit sarcastic even, but I try as hard as I can for them to show the thoughtfulness that I actually put into them, and to avoid as much as possible having them fit snuggly into the “emo poetry” category.
I’m sorry to say that I really rather abhor it. but I quite enjoy the word “abhor”.
---
I’m from the united states, and I’m incredibly embarrassed to be from here. I truly am.
Of course, I can appreciate the safety and freedom of it, but at least once a day I think to myself, “I gotta get out of here.”
Maybe not that often, necessarily, but often enough.
But for now, I can’t, so I’ve decided to commit myself to changing my vocabulary from things like “eggplant” to “aubergine” and “zee” to “zed”.
(the latter, of course, was a matter of pronunciation.)
And I’m trying my hardest to (in my opinion) correctly spell things like “neighbour,” instead of “neighbor” and “grey,” instead of “gray”.
I shall post a list of words and such that I can find, and please correct me if I make a mistake.
<3
xo
Finally! A post! or, Cactus-Hunting (the latest sport)
‘ello, Loves!
It’s been quite a while, has it not?
Now that I’m at boarding school, it’s grown incredibly difficult to post.
But I do rather enjoy posting my little diddles, and I felt I owed something, however small.
Here you are.
<3
Once, there was a small poppet named Elgar Jameson. He resided in a cave, instead of a proper home, but he didn’t mind it because he had never lived in a house, and so had nothing to compare it to.
The cave was quite nice, for it was always dry, no matter the weather.
The walls were something he was quite proud of, for they were covered in murals and paintings and all manner of things like that. Whenever he got bored of one painting, he could just paint over it. in this manner, he grew to become a great artist.
It was cool in the summer, and warm and cozy and toasty in the winter.
His bed was a soft little nest of leaves and feathers and dried flowers.
This boy Elgar dearly loved flowers, and planted a great many in his cave-home, so it always smelled fresh and floral. Along with the flowers, he grew a great many vegetables and fruits, so he never had to end a creature’s life.
Though he never lived with any other poppet, he was never lonely for company, because besides his flora, he resided with his pet-friends, a bird named Matilda and a goldfish named Giraffe-Man. Both of these had been living with him for quite a while, and they had all grown quite close.
Where we see him now is walking through the forest, Matilda upon Elgar’s shoulder and Giraffe-Man in a large glass bowl.
Today, the poppet was going cactus-hunting.
If you’ve never heard of Cactus-Hunting, it’s the latest sport in woodland folk, in which one explores all about thy neighbourhood in search of the aforesaid succulents. When you find one, you plant exactly one daisy near the cactus. Once you’re finished, you return to thy home, to come back every day to care for the daisy. The two plants eventually grow to be great friends.
Once they have, the game is done.
Twas a game invented by Elgar, the charming little lad.
The End.
xo
It’s been quite a while, has it not?
Now that I’m at boarding school, it’s grown incredibly difficult to post.
But I do rather enjoy posting my little diddles, and I felt I owed something, however small.
Here you are.
<3
Once, there was a small poppet named Elgar Jameson. He resided in a cave, instead of a proper home, but he didn’t mind it because he had never lived in a house, and so had nothing to compare it to.
The cave was quite nice, for it was always dry, no matter the weather.
The walls were something he was quite proud of, for they were covered in murals and paintings and all manner of things like that. Whenever he got bored of one painting, he could just paint over it. in this manner, he grew to become a great artist.
It was cool in the summer, and warm and cozy and toasty in the winter.
His bed was a soft little nest of leaves and feathers and dried flowers.
This boy Elgar dearly loved flowers, and planted a great many in his cave-home, so it always smelled fresh and floral. Along with the flowers, he grew a great many vegetables and fruits, so he never had to end a creature’s life.
Though he never lived with any other poppet, he was never lonely for company, because besides his flora, he resided with his pet-friends, a bird named Matilda and a goldfish named Giraffe-Man. Both of these had been living with him for quite a while, and they had all grown quite close.
Where we see him now is walking through the forest, Matilda upon Elgar’s shoulder and Giraffe-Man in a large glass bowl.
Today, the poppet was going cactus-hunting.
If you’ve never heard of Cactus-Hunting, it’s the latest sport in woodland folk, in which one explores all about thy neighbourhood in search of the aforesaid succulents. When you find one, you plant exactly one daisy near the cactus. Once you’re finished, you return to thy home, to come back every day to care for the daisy. The two plants eventually grow to be great friends.
Once they have, the game is done.
Twas a game invented by Elgar, the charming little lad.
The End.
xo
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Off to school...
'ello, Loves!
yes, I'm off to school. indeed.
*sadness*
so this post is shorter...
xo
yes, I'm off to school. indeed.
*sadness*
so this post is shorter...
xo
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Can I have a giant muffin-sized hug?
God help me.
I'm gonna cry.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KuTV73QACZc&feature=related
that is all.
ever thine,
xo
I'm gonna cry.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KuTV73QACZc&feature=related
that is all.
ever thine,
xo
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Things that make me a complete idiot
'ello, Loves!
So, things that make me a complete idiot.
there are a great many.
one of which, I shall tell you.
Because I am in the safety of my room, the shades are up and it's sunny (but not too sunny), I am sitting upon not one, but two comforters, my stuffed animal Rat is sleeping next to me (he dearly loves the clicky-clack of the keyboard, dear thing), I've just been reading the Toby posts of A Cup Of Jo (http://joannagoddard.blogspot.com/search/label/toby), I've got playing Mechanical Music Hall whatnot (http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/burlington-bertie-from-bow/id260578820?i=260578857&ign-mpt=uo%3D4) and it's been a pretty good day so far, I can describe in great detail.
I like to think of myself as a part of the Gothic subculture, at least having the Gothy-mindset (http://www.gothic-charm-school.com/) but I am a bit f a failure as a stereotype. the subject at fault is the ability to watch and handle horror movies.
I know what I can handle.
something I could not (and cannot) was The Ring.
at boarding school, we have "movie night" every tuesday and Friday. on one such occasion, the aforesaid film had been chosen.
I was ecstatic. I was overjoyed. I pranced about the halls (not really) and bounced around in my dorm room (yes really).
as I said, I could not handle it. But I stayed the entire time.
the reason I cannot handle such movies is this: my mind.
last night, I watched Cloverfield. on a number-line of "yes/no, I can/can't watch this" 1+ being yes, -1 and down being no, that movie was -1 to -3. pretty OK, until two in the morning when it was pitch black (I have those blackout shades) and I was just about to fall asleep when my ipod, which was sitting on my nightstand, turned on for just a moment. it turned on, and the screen went black again in 5 seconds. less then that, probably.
I was paralyzed.
I lay in bed, unable to move, for fear of a girl standing behind me, that creepy-arse son of the detective-whatever woman, scenes and lines echoing in my head, the insects from Cloverfield crawling over the ceiling, something grabbing or stabbing my foot if it got out from underneath the comforters.
it took me an hour to turn on the light. not even joking.
other things that freak me out are pulling up shades. (there's got to be someone peering into my window, waiting for me to pull open the shades...) I believe that this fear cam about from a mix of seeing a kodak commercial of a mom taking a picture of three girls, who were standing with their backs to a large window. she looked at the picture, and in the window was a man with a crowbar, smiling, and a childhood viewing of The Nightmare Room.
opening my bedroom door at night (though I've gotten over that), turning on a light in a dark room, as mentioned earlier, because do I really what to see what's hiding in the dark?, and the basement/storage room of my school.
that's generally where I practice my violin, because it's very private.
there's a door at the end of it, leading outside up some stairs. at night, there's this ominously yellow lights in the window of the door, and it makes the entire room look like it's out of a Saw movie. especially this one "cave," a room that's all dark and has a metal fence over part of it. it's creepy as shyte. I generally practice standing next to the door.
once, I was practicing, and the generator or whatever stopped buzzing, and it was really silent, and then something in that room made this loud noise (probably a mouse-trap) and I actually ran out of the room, leaving my violin, my phone and my sweatshirt. of course, I had to to back in to get them, but I finished practicing in this one corner of the basement (outside of the storage room) where a bunch of guitars and stereos were.
whenever I'm in there alone, I get really paranoid, and almost have a heart attack, and then the person who came in is all like "what's wrong with you??" and stuff...
and being in a dark room doing something and I look up, and someone is standing over me. I'm afraid of that because it's happened many a time.
so...
that's what freaks me out, turning me into a complete idiot.
how bout you?
good day!
xo
P.S.
I have a new lonely friend painting, I'm thinking of making a series...?
So, things that make me a complete idiot.
there are a great many.
one of which, I shall tell you.
Because I am in the safety of my room, the shades are up and it's sunny (but not too sunny), I am sitting upon not one, but two comforters, my stuffed animal Rat is sleeping next to me (he dearly loves the clicky-clack of the keyboard, dear thing), I've just been reading the Toby posts of A Cup Of Jo (http://joannagoddard.blogspot.com/search/label/toby), I've got playing Mechanical Music Hall whatnot (http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/burlington-bertie-from-bow/id260578820?i=260578857&ign-mpt=uo%3D4) and it's been a pretty good day so far, I can describe in great detail.
I like to think of myself as a part of the Gothic subculture, at least having the Gothy-mindset (http://www.gothic-charm-school.com/) but I am a bit f a failure as a stereotype. the subject at fault is the ability to watch and handle horror movies.
I know what I can handle.
something I could not (and cannot) was The Ring.
at boarding school, we have "movie night" every tuesday and Friday. on one such occasion, the aforesaid film had been chosen.
I was ecstatic. I was overjoyed. I pranced about the halls (not really) and bounced around in my dorm room (yes really).
as I said, I could not handle it. But I stayed the entire time.
the reason I cannot handle such movies is this: my mind.
last night, I watched Cloverfield. on a number-line of "yes/no, I can/can't watch this" 1+ being yes, -1 and down being no, that movie was -1 to -3. pretty OK, until two in the morning when it was pitch black (I have those blackout shades) and I was just about to fall asleep when my ipod, which was sitting on my nightstand, turned on for just a moment. it turned on, and the screen went black again in 5 seconds. less then that, probably.
I was paralyzed.
I lay in bed, unable to move, for fear of a girl standing behind me, that creepy-arse son of the detective-whatever woman, scenes and lines echoing in my head, the insects from Cloverfield crawling over the ceiling, something grabbing or stabbing my foot if it got out from underneath the comforters.
it took me an hour to turn on the light. not even joking.
other things that freak me out are pulling up shades. (there's got to be someone peering into my window, waiting for me to pull open the shades...) I believe that this fear cam about from a mix of seeing a kodak commercial of a mom taking a picture of three girls, who were standing with their backs to a large window. she looked at the picture, and in the window was a man with a crowbar, smiling, and a childhood viewing of The Nightmare Room.
opening my bedroom door at night (though I've gotten over that), turning on a light in a dark room, as mentioned earlier, because do I really what to see what's hiding in the dark?, and the basement/storage room of my school.
that's generally where I practice my violin, because it's very private.
there's a door at the end of it, leading outside up some stairs. at night, there's this ominously yellow lights in the window of the door, and it makes the entire room look like it's out of a Saw movie. especially this one "cave," a room that's all dark and has a metal fence over part of it. it's creepy as shyte. I generally practice standing next to the door.
once, I was practicing, and the generator or whatever stopped buzzing, and it was really silent, and then something in that room made this loud noise (probably a mouse-trap) and I actually ran out of the room, leaving my violin, my phone and my sweatshirt. of course, I had to to back in to get them, but I finished practicing in this one corner of the basement (outside of the storage room) where a bunch of guitars and stereos were.
whenever I'm in there alone, I get really paranoid, and almost have a heart attack, and then the person who came in is all like "what's wrong with you??" and stuff...
and being in a dark room doing something and I look up, and someone is standing over me. I'm afraid of that because it's happened many a time.
so...
that's what freaks me out, turning me into a complete idiot.
how bout you?
good day!
xo
P.S.
I have a new lonely friend painting, I'm thinking of making a series...?
Monday, January 3, 2011
Things to do with Solemn Pig...
'ello loves!
I've recently gotten hung up on Solemn Pig, and I felt he needed a story.
As do we all.
Once, in a far off land (perhaps japan or italy or Australia, but no one really knows), the widowed Mother Rabbit had a second batch of baby bunnies. Amongst this batch was Solemn Pig, named for his eternal somberness, but also his great physical similarity to Piglet, from the other bunnies favourite story, Whinnie the Pooh. He was indeed, quite somber, and was generally left alone to his own musings by the other bunnies. He didn't mind much, for he liked the quiet. He wasn't allowed to wander too far off, always in view of the other bunnies, and he didn't mind that much either, for he felt safer knowing he wasn't completely alone. one day, as he was sitting in a cherry tree daydreaming and watching the bunnies play, a crow flew down next to Solemn Pig.
"good day to you," said the crow, for he was a very polite personage.
"good day," replied Solemn Pig, equally as polite, but little unsure, because he knew he wasn't to speak to strangers.
"what are you doing up here by yourself? why aren't you playing with the other little rabbits?" the crow asked.
"their simple games do not interest me. I prefer the quiet and the gentle. they don't understand me." said Solemn Pig, sighing.
"poor dear. come now, you're young. don't you yearn for adventure? don't you wish for a life other then this?"
said Solemn Pig, "I suppose so... but where would I go? where would accept me, for all my soberness? All I ask for is someone to understand me, my ways, my hopes and needs. where can I go to find this?"
the wise old crow thought for a moment. in this youthful little bunny-rabbit, he saw an ancient soul, exhausted from endless wandering. "no one can truly find that, Solemn Pig. the world is full of pain and unhappiness, but it is also full of love and joy. no one can look for just love, just joy, for they will be disappointed at the lack of perfection, possibly growing bitter, finding themselves unable to love or be loved. to exist, the universe requires equality, balance and order. those three things are what you must search for. Worry not for your future, Solemn Pig. I can see great possibilities in you!" and with that, the old crow flew off into the skies.
the end.
now go tell it to your kids!
xo
I've recently gotten hung up on Solemn Pig, and I felt he needed a story.
As do we all.
Once, in a far off land (perhaps japan or italy or Australia, but no one really knows), the widowed Mother Rabbit had a second batch of baby bunnies. Amongst this batch was Solemn Pig, named for his eternal somberness, but also his great physical similarity to Piglet, from the other bunnies favourite story, Whinnie the Pooh. He was indeed, quite somber, and was generally left alone to his own musings by the other bunnies. He didn't mind much, for he liked the quiet. He wasn't allowed to wander too far off, always in view of the other bunnies, and he didn't mind that much either, for he felt safer knowing he wasn't completely alone. one day, as he was sitting in a cherry tree daydreaming and watching the bunnies play, a crow flew down next to Solemn Pig.
"good day to you," said the crow, for he was a very polite personage.
"good day," replied Solemn Pig, equally as polite, but little unsure, because he knew he wasn't to speak to strangers.
"what are you doing up here by yourself? why aren't you playing with the other little rabbits?" the crow asked.
"their simple games do not interest me. I prefer the quiet and the gentle. they don't understand me." said Solemn Pig, sighing.
"poor dear. come now, you're young. don't you yearn for adventure? don't you wish for a life other then this?"
said Solemn Pig, "I suppose so... but where would I go? where would accept me, for all my soberness? All I ask for is someone to understand me, my ways, my hopes and needs. where can I go to find this?"
the wise old crow thought for a moment. in this youthful little bunny-rabbit, he saw an ancient soul, exhausted from endless wandering. "no one can truly find that, Solemn Pig. the world is full of pain and unhappiness, but it is also full of love and joy. no one can look for just love, just joy, for they will be disappointed at the lack of perfection, possibly growing bitter, finding themselves unable to love or be loved. to exist, the universe requires equality, balance and order. those three things are what you must search for. Worry not for your future, Solemn Pig. I can see great possibilities in you!" and with that, the old crow flew off into the skies.
the end.
now go tell it to your kids!
xo
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Shyte happens! it just does!
'ello, Lovelies!
have you ever gotten all excited and revved up to go somewhere, and you walk there and it's really cold out but you just don't care, and then you awkwardly stand at a street-ligh on a busy street waiting for the "yes, little walkers, you can walk across the street now!" light, but it's just the "no, don't walk, little walkers, you'll DIE!" light and people are looking at you like "mkay, is she gonna go now or not?" and your mind is screaming "aahh! shall I go or not? because people are turning, and I really don't want to die or anything?" so you have to wait till all of the lights turn red and the street-light to go the other direction goes through it's little cycle (including letting pedestrians walk!) and then you go at the "no, don't walk no, little walkers, you'll DIE!" light because you're tired of standing there awkwardly, and then you finally get there and it's closed...?
that happened to me today.
it rather sucked.
anyway...
news!
news for you lovelies!
Solemn Pig has allowed a small portrait to be made of him, and it shall be up as soon as it dries!
happy news indeed!
xo
have you ever gotten all excited and revved up to go somewhere, and you walk there and it's really cold out but you just don't care, and then you awkwardly stand at a street-ligh on a busy street waiting for the "yes, little walkers, you can walk across the street now!" light, but it's just the "no, don't walk, little walkers, you'll DIE!" light and people are looking at you like "mkay, is she gonna go now or not?" and your mind is screaming "aahh! shall I go or not? because people are turning, and I really don't want to die or anything?" so you have to wait till all of the lights turn red and the street-light to go the other direction goes through it's little cycle (including letting pedestrians walk!) and then you go at the "no, don't walk no, little walkers, you'll DIE!" light because you're tired of standing there awkwardly, and then you finally get there and it's closed...?
that happened to me today.
it rather sucked.
anyway...
news!
news for you lovelies!
Solemn Pig has allowed a small portrait to be made of him, and it shall be up as soon as it dries!
happy news indeed!
xo
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