x_los: (Alice)
Lot-1

This mug, guys. You could drink earl grey out of it. I am just saying. This is a rare prototype, worth £200 or some shit (though it didn't sell for that, so maybe not), but if you said the proper run was £5 on ebay... I could find myself tempted.

Yesterday I bent the wire whisk of my kitchenaid on some frozen butter whilst trying to make oatmeal cookies as a way of bribing a boss I don't like into hiring me for more freelance contracts. I then *actually cried* over having broken this treasure possession, not having used it enough, how much it HURT to bend it back into shape, and the passing of all worldly things, especially anything I particularly love. Because that is the level of HYPER-EMO I reach when furious with myself. It's like, a film!Loki-level of self-pity.

I also cursed my stupidity for having not used the paddle attachment, or realized that just because the floor mixer at the bakery could handle frozen butter, that didn't mean my beloved Kitchenaid could. I *think* it's back to near-perfect working order again--though it looks sliiightly wonky--and I could buy a new whisk for a not insignificant but reasonable cost. But these are the sort of thoughts I have now, when the emo has passed over us. At the time I cradled a whisk to my chest like a baby for no less than half an hour. Yep. *Maturity*.

Also, has anyone ever beheld the work of Clarice Cliff? Because it is the UGLIEST SHIT KNOWN TO HUMANITY. Seriously, what the hell is this? There is literally none of it I wouldn't bin, and I can see *exactly* how much it's worth. It would simply be a service to people with eyes.

today: )

MUSIC and Links )
x_los: (Default)
Have you seen the ultra-fine illustration work of my friend Mindy 'cos of de gang life' Nettles? Let me assure you: it is fly.













You can follow her on facebook ('fly' link), blogspot or wix.
x_los: (Japanese Pretty)
[livejournal.com profile] black_rider  poster this NPR link, which made me remember what a great photographer Steve McCurry (the man who took the famous National Geographic photo 'Afghan Girl') is. I've been on a trawl through his stuff, and there's some gorgeous ones below. If you have an awesome photo to drop in the comments, please, be my guest!

lovely  )


Though, divorced from context, do gorgeous photos of strange places count as exoticism? :/ Surely it's better to engage with the beauty of places I'll probably never get to see. I did think it a bit weird when, trawling through google images, I found a lot of American chicks posting self-portraits avec shawls after Afghan Girl. There's something disconcerting about their department store shawls and limp expressions, which compare so unfavorably with the startling, somewhat terrifying intensity of the eyes of the original subject. And it's odd (possibly appropriation?) to take a famous photo of Sharbat Gula, a prematurely-old twelve year old war refugee, "a symbol both of the 1980s Afghan conflict and of the refugee situation worldwide," as Wikipedia puts it, and... do it as unironic self-portraiture? With no real reference to the content of the original?

x_los: (Japanese Pretty)
[livejournal.com profile] black_rider  poster this NPR link, which made me remember what a great photographer Steve McCurry (the man who took the famous National Geographic photo 'Afghan Girl') is. I've been on a trawl through his stuff, and there's some gorgeous ones below. If you have an awesome photo to drop in the comments, please, be my guest!

lovely  )


Though, divorced from context, do gorgeous photos of strange places count as exoticism? :/ Surely it's better to engage with the beauty of places I'll probably never get to see. I did think it a bit weird when, trawling through google images, I found a lot of American chicks posting self-portraits avec shawls after Afghan Girl. There's something disconcerting about their department store shawls and limp expressions, which compare so unfavorably with the startling, somewhat terrifying intensity of the eyes of the original subject. And it's odd (possibly appropriation?) to take a famous photo of Sharbat Gula, a prematurely-old twelve year old war refugee, "a symbol both of the 1980s Afghan conflict and of the refugee situation worldwide," as Wikipedia puts it, and... do it as unironic self-portraiture? With no real reference to the content of the original?

x_los: (...what.)
I just got rid of 150 emails from my gmail in box. I still have 130. I feel like this is a good resting point, however, and I can do more tomorrow, in addition to finishing the ludicrously complicated spreadsheet of English phone plans that I've begun in hopes of making the Best Possible Choice. I emailed five new people and sorted out all the flat-related stuff I still have to reply to in aforementioned inbox. Tomorrow I have got to get money out--I'm thinking of making a quiche lorraine for dinner. Also I should do round two of CV revising, send it to my aunt and dad, wait for it to come back and then email it out to all and sundry on Friday. Friday's also Sorting Out Bank Accounts day, and this weekend's Figuring Out Prescriptions and Doctors.

If I've been ignoring you, oh world, it's largely because I've been disgustingly busy. This isn't even a full summary of Shit That Needs Done. I'm going to feel guilty so much as reading and looking at my writing until I've 100% settled the job, flat and other necessaries. If I think about it I get really worried and it seems cyclical and huge, but I've made a good beginning on everything above, and so really I shouldn't be as neurotic about it as I am.

On happier news, for the moment I'm at the lovely [livejournal.com profile] aralias's. I managed to waste today in a fugue of jet lag and laundry--poor show, Erin. But [livejournal.com profile] aralias made me stir-fry, and there were still M&S mince pies in the cupboard, and we played St. Petersburg and Dominion, both of which were new to me and the latter of which made me oddly nostalgic for Magic the Gathering. So really rather a good day, even if I'm fretting and the John Barrowman Robin Hood panto we wanted to see, which promised to be so fabulously ridiculous, looks to also be fabulously popular and fabulously sold-out.

Also, have an art show reaction post from earlier this week, in New York. And you thought I could only have feelings about End of Time Part II...

Roni Horn a.k.a. Roni Horn and Georgia O'Keef's Abstract Work at the Whitney (from an earlier letter) )
x_los: (...what.)
I just got rid of 150 emails from my gmail in box. I still have 130. I feel like this is a good resting point, however, and I can do more tomorrow, in addition to finishing the ludicrously complicated spreadsheet of English phone plans that I've begun in hopes of making the Best Possible Choice. I emailed five new people and sorted out all the flat-related stuff I still have to reply to in aforementioned inbox. Tomorrow I have got to get money out--I'm thinking of making a quiche lorraine for dinner. Also I should do round two of CV revising, send it to my aunt and dad, wait for it to come back and then email it out to all and sundry on Friday. Friday's also Sorting Out Bank Accounts day, and this weekend's Figuring Out Prescriptions and Doctors.

If I've been ignoring you, oh world, it's largely because I've been disgustingly busy. This isn't even a full summary of Shit That Needs Done. I'm going to feel guilty so much as reading and looking at my writing until I've 100% settled the job, flat and other necessaries. If I think about it I get really worried and it seems cyclical and huge, but I've made a good beginning on everything above, and so really I shouldn't be as neurotic about it as I am.

On happier news, for the moment I'm at the lovely [livejournal.com profile] aralias's. I managed to waste today in a fugue of jet lag and laundry--poor show, Erin. But [livejournal.com profile] aralias made me stir-fry, and there were still M&S mince pies in the cupboard, and we played St. Petersburg and Dominion, both of which were new to me and the latter of which made me oddly nostalgic for Magic the Gathering. So really rather a good day, even if I'm fretting and the John Barrowman Robin Hood panto we wanted to see, which promised to be so fabulously ridiculous, looks to also be fabulously popular and fabulously sold-out.

Also, have an art show reaction post from earlier this week, in New York. And you thought I could only have feelings about End of Time Part II...

Roni Horn a.k.a. Roni Horn and Georgia O'Keef's Abstract Work at the Whitney (from an earlier letter) )
x_los: (Default)
Today in a nutshell:

Oh the coughing. The flem! Why won't my nose stop bleeding! Allergies, no! No! The Woman Time! The Woman Time! I can't go to classes because I'm a courpse! Why hasn't X emailed me back? Oh my god, does he not like me?! Or am I over-reacting to his inconsequential failure to reply instantaneously because of SADS? SADS IS IN UR PHSYCOLOGY, MAKING HIM JUST NOT THAT INTO U! I'll stay home despite looking forward to plans with Christina and Alisa, who I haven't seen in forever, because I am too hideously bloated and sick to be seen by humans-- Oh, Ben's here randomly from Illinois with no notice. Fuck. Well, I'll get some Chinese, but by god, I refuse to eat it out. I'll bring it back to the couch and sulk with my illnesses.

The End.

And I didn't get any fucking homework done, so I have to do it now. Lame like Tiny Tim.

I'm really into Piranesi's "Carceri"/Imaginary Prisons series right now. I used to have haunting nightmeres about these eerie etchings when I was a kid and recently rediscovered them. I like their vast, strange use of space in the upper reaches, and their unbridled uncanny quality of detail. I think Therese might like them.
x_los: (Default)
Today in a nutshell:

Oh the coughing. The flem! Why won't my nose stop bleeding! Allergies, no! No! The Woman Time! The Woman Time! I can't go to classes because I'm a courpse! Why hasn't X emailed me back? Oh my god, does he not like me?! Or am I over-reacting to his inconsequential failure to reply instantaneously because of SADS? SADS IS IN UR PHSYCOLOGY, MAKING HIM JUST NOT THAT INTO U! I'll stay home despite looking forward to plans with Christina and Alisa, who I haven't seen in forever, because I am too hideously bloated and sick to be seen by humans-- Oh, Ben's here randomly from Illinois with no notice. Fuck. Well, I'll get some Chinese, but by god, I refuse to eat it out. I'll bring it back to the couch and sulk with my illnesses.

The End.

And I didn't get any fucking homework done, so I have to do it now. Lame like Tiny Tim.

I'm really into Piranesi's "Carceri"/Imaginary Prisons series right now. I used to have haunting nightmeres about these eerie etchings when I was a kid and recently rediscovered them. I like their vast, strange use of space in the upper reaches, and their unbridled uncanny quality of detail. I think Therese might like them.

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