Crystal

Steve Cat and Scars and life

An attempt is made to recover bodily freedom buried beneath the hypocrisies of conventions and rules of power based upon control, there is a rejection of the emergency exits of the media that ensure, provided that there is no focus on their own existence.

Don’t the stars look pretty tonight? Look how strange and tender they all are when alone. Is this a mirror? A sense of immanent logic, this was built for you (I) to be lost in, thunder (metaphorical) rolls and splits the faceless tongue, thrown cold into exile, breathing in, heartless and hell-bound. Erased like unwanted days- a new race. Subjected to our own intimate parts, they can’t wait to severe this memory.

A shower cleanses and we are reborn, back into our heads because I am a virus that clouds their minds. How do you feel today? Tell me your dreams, provide a stimulus; who’s got a match? The look on your face, confronted with a reflection that isn’t quite right or wrong.

I have a proposition for you.

They promised your dreams, a path protected within me. You are a study. I thought you’d enjoy this, because this is make-believe, this is fantasy.

The same games are played, but did you win? Hold your breath because this is going to taste foul. I call them as I see them and you are going to have to come with better excuses. You shouldn’t be so sentimental when surrounded by your heart-warming things. Fashionable icons have burnt and faded. This is a new world order, we’ve been offered a different concept of a poor reality. We’re not swimming through the sun.

Born through social interactions and left wanton, so they found me. Begging and pleading, throwing caution to the wind. Selfishness and greed seeming so seductive, who am I to argue? Poor deluded souls, or what has been left after the gluttonous experiences. Racing for the next big high, something that can make you (I) stand out and apart.  Pretending to be adults while indulging childish whims.

They thought their lack of ignorance meant they didn’t have anything to fear, their imaginations stunted; they think they’ve seen the worse they can, but there are tricks that we can only dream of. So subtle but they’ve only ever viewed the surface, had they looked a little deeper they may have seen that I lied. I’m not offering salvation. They may have noticed that the blood running through my veins was cold just like my beating heart.

Promises I’ve made were false and empty, tinged with a malice you can’t describe. Thinking sacrifice was something funny? “Oh, what a lark”. Flippancy made me all the more vile. Minor details that could and should be divulged.

They were beautiful, conventionally so. Awkward in their beliefs of society. Own the world and take what you can, hoping everyone looks up to you (I). The enlightened saw them for what they were. Too much ego, no dreams unfulfilled, an absence of imagination. Happiness was bought, packaged and gift wrapped. Paper crisp with stars, a ribbon tied around.

I was new, I was their ‘it’.

Could they mould me into their next big expensive thrill? Worth a try. (Maybe not). They fell for tricks and latest buzzwords. Driven by highs. They were ecstatic and thrilled; hanging trinkets from their star-gazing eyes. Secret, silent requests, begging to explore this space.

I wanted to see humanity. Sorry stinks of lies, creature with dirty psychological judgements. They (I) didn’t need enemies but they made them anyway, restless in their bones. I’ve listened to their words, and the voices in their heads. Separated and segregated, stripped down and apart. Ripping each other limb from limb. Dissection looks good.

I doubt explaining myself or my actions would do any good. This isn’t long term, no-body gets out alive, but we didn’t deserve to anyway. We came willingly and we dug our own graves. My hands are clean and my conscience is clear. These are simple facts exaggerated for your enjoyment.

A slip here and they’d (we’d) stop; always alone and afraid to show any psychotic split. My  heartbeat; a steady pulse. Fearful of aliens and fictional beasts. Pretend the meat in your mouth tastes like sugar and those acid colours don’t burn your eyes. The creation in your head, the illusion you (I) live in, loved it and lived it. So are we dead now?

They couldn’t tear each other apart because they’d never been together. There was still blood, there was still screams. They were lost in their own world and it made them insane. Lives collapsed inwards, eating each other inside out, dirty and destroyed. Pulled apart at the seams, atoms floating through the air. They took up less room when they were whole.

Fear of themselves means they couldn’t understand what was happening. Fear of the unknown routed them to the spot.

Links worth reading:

Independent: #SupportLocalArtists 1

This is slightly different to other inspiration as these are amazing designer-maker-artists. If you want to be featured please do email me at erin@comadiary.com.  

Inky Collective

If you love anything letterpress then these beautiful items might pull your heart strings like they do mine. Jen, Patch, Lucile and Wrighty get it all just perfectly. Buy from their Etsy

Mandy Hills

I like screen printing and I love what Mandy achieves, the colours are rich and the registration is spot on. Buy her pieces from folksy.

Nicola Jennings

Nicola creates delicate and beautiful paper cut illustrations, when I stumbled across her pieces I feel in love and I’m currently encouraging Martin to buy me one… Nicola on etsy.

Favourite: Luzinterruptus

Images from the artists at luzinterruptus.com

I want the art to do the talking – so I won’t say much. The collective are cemented in my heart even more as the country flounders in political and ethical torment.

My heart fills with hope every.single.time I see that Luzinterruptus have completed a new project. With simple ideas and an ability to install quickly; their whole process is one of refinement. I love it. Check out their website for more information on the collective at luzinterruptus.com.