The title has nothing whatsoever to do with this post.
I decided long ago that there is no such thing as lateness when it comes to updating a blog. I'm kinda with Tiffini Elektra on this one........blogging without obligation since 1066, or something of that description.
Well, for a logo such as this to exist in the first place (blogging without obligation) must surely illustrate that many of us occasionally feel somewhat guilty if we do not post with unwavering regularity. Now, before i go any further (which won't be very far, trust me;) i must admit that many of my friends update their blogs almost daily, but this isn't an issue, because they are 'naturals' in the sense that they do so because they love to.
And therefore...I am inclined to update with painfully wavering irregularity, such is the nature of the beast.
This is the point; we should post when we are comfortable, when we are ready. Some people are able to do so on a daily basis, some do not have the time or the inclination..... it ought not to make a difference. If a blog is readable, enjoyable, exciting, welcoming, then the regularity of posts should make very little difference. When something becomes mechanical, a chore, it is no longer a pleasure or an agreeable form of self expression.
And we all want to have fun, don't we?
Yes, we do.
I mention this because i have noticed several blog entries over the past few weeks that question this very issue. It appears to act like some sort of a virus, so i advise a good dose of vitamin C, a box of rainbow coloured tissues, and a few days resting on the chaise longue with a good old fashioned box set of murder mystery DVD's. Or whatever takes your fancy; for my part it would be Columbo or Jane Hickson's Miss Marple (not that i don't adore Margaret Rutherford's Miss Marple, she is quite evidently a goddess!)
So, break free of your shackles, and blog to your hearts content, or not to your hearts content, whichever the case may be. I personally adore blogs that work both ways, the daily offerings and the rarities. It is the quality of the work, the words, the world which the writer chooses to share with us that matters, and if we admire an artist, or consider someone a friend, we will surely visit their blog without ever passing judgment, however irregular or punctual they may turn out to be.
I am now going to step carefully down from the soapbox and gather my wits.
Sadly, i do not possess a crimson mahogany chaise longue (A reclining chair with a long seat that supports the outstretched legs, says the dictionary, just in case.....) but i do have my kitten's ears to pull so that will cheer me up a treat (he loves it, by the way)
So anyway, i would like to share some new newness.
More apples, more isolated yet contented young ladies in curious situations........
And my favourite image, possibly of all time:
From the Magician's Daughter series, probably. Up to her old tricks again. I ought to make a set of these at some point. Getting the head right was nothing short of a nightmare, but i hope i achieved something close to reality in my placement of it.
They're a peculiar bunch, you know, but they don't go in for table rapping, ectoplasmic manifestations, flickering light-bulbs and the likes. No, they only ever concentrate on their own potential, the here and the now, the mental, emotional and physical limits of imagination. And you will find there are none whatsoever. Limits, i mean.
I imagine some sort of invisible audience here (us, in reality, but a mysterious grouping in my imaginings), a silent crowd, a small group of enthusiasts.....possibly her family and friends, who are quite used to these sombre theatricals, yet never tired of them. What she achieves requires no real effort. It could only seem like an impossibility to the uninitiated.
Here is the flip version, i prefer the original, but this one excites me too, for some reason...
Levitating Girl (the B side)
The billowing frock doesn't seem right in this version, but never mind that. Why adhere to the norm? I don't much like the sensation of her dangling over some sort of murky abyss here, and that swollen shadow above her lends the image a more sinister aspect than the proper version. She seems less in control here. As if something or someone else directs the act.
Still, i kind of like both. Perhaps they compliment each other. Stranger things have happened.
And now for something a little bit different. But only a little bit different, mind.
Encounter with an apple (a love story)
This image has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with love.
I wonder what she could be doing, balancing so perfectly up there, facing up to that frighteningly metallic looking apple. This is one of those open-ended images that might require the viewer's effort to untangle, to fathom their own response. I know what i feel about it, but this is of very little consequence, because it has reference to a childhood dream, a dream that repeated over the course of many years with no apparent meaning whatsoever.
Falling out of the sky into the apple orchard yet never hitting ground.
The above image has bypassed this sensation, i like to think of it as a resolution to the dream (of sorts).......suddenly finding oneself secure, on a level with the symbol itself: the apple. Now, what to ask of it................
No title, just a nebulous moment - i am prone to them on occasion.
I like to wonder where she really is, because i imagine she is somehow wandering amongst her own thoughts, or lack of them. I sense that she feels stifled by the limits if her situation in this reality, and yet she is also too young to appreciate that for what it is......an illusion.
Remember, this post is apparently championing the idea of limitless possibilities. They are all around us, but sometimes we are oblivious to them. I have no idea why this post is championing limitless possibilities, it just turned out that way.
And now for something ludicrously silly, but i had some fun, ok?
So untitled it hurts
Myself as a Victorian Lady.
The choice of body does nothing for my curiously positioned head, but i do love the bleeding heart and the magical insanity of the landscape.
Just for the record, i would have made a dreadful Victorian Lady.
Ask my mother......
Ok, i'm hungry, so i must leave you now.
Back soon, possibly, maybe, at some point in the nearish future.