...of loose looms...

I wrote another song

I am aware of what it's about but at the same, not really.

Perhaps treading carefully around a void that was or wasn't meant to be.

Maybe questioning as to whether it is a good idea to carry on something that might inevitably create carnage down the line... ohhh fiddle sticks! I'm not really one who likes to delve or question what the hell it is i am trying to get out anyway, i like the air of mystery floating about.

hmmm....

Loose Looms & Loopholes

"Threaded.

I'm your opportunist for tightening the bond.

Loose loose,

Untie me.

I've fallen out of the stitch through time,

You're better off with a new coat.

However i'd still let you wear me,

I'd warm you with touch carefully.

But what with these loopholes,

Cardigans are too thin.

Threaded.

How i adore our winter patchwork.

Loose looms,

Find me.

There's a gap here where autumn should be,

Even though the leaves fell with you.

However i'd still let you wear me,

I'd warm you with touch carefully.

But what with these loopholes,

Cardigans are too thin.

We get trapped in loose looms."

...how i dislike the struggle...

Words...

...everywhere. Everywhere. They are what create and destruct. Pity. Writing that story...which has been edited i can tell you.

These were my last thoughts, last year, last blog entry.

Shit happened of course ..."that's life" cliche grossness and all that unspoken, but thought about quite a bit, concern. Disgusting.

Onwards and upwards i say in my medieval stammer i like to think i have at times, teehee.

YES, here i am again, new...on the mend as some would like to dramatically state.

Kimmy. Kimiko. and those bastards who are not my mother who no matter how many times i ask politely not to call me KIMBERLEY!!!

Ahhh yes, new, what is it they say...turning over a new leaf? Goodness no, i have not done "nowt" wrong, apart from maybe love food too much and think him to be the right one...this shall be rectified (Kimmy, YOUR EYES ARE TOO BIG FOR YOUR STOMACH bullshit).

But new dreams, new passions....Goodbye Mr.Reynolds and welcome singleton life again i suppose.

On the contrary i am still obsessed with Japan, Fashion & all aspects of the art world so "nowt" new there. However i have become obsessed with cooking, everything being vintage and obscure as well as a more passionate drive, more ambitious want to be successful.

So hurrah, fucking high five. The Moomin Queen is back, with a vengeance...and a disgustingly cheesy shelf devoted to my Moomin objects, laugh all you want it's bloody cute ^_^

And yet as i said last time, "I have a long way to go to conquer thisi" indeed i do....

Bring it ON EGGNOGS!

...and struck a chord of plenty....

...Bothered...

About so many things and yet i try to battle off these worries and bound my troubles with my creativity. What an escape. Therapuetic. Slightly irresponsible, however a thrill to discover what the imagination can create in such depressing times. So i continue to write "The Perfect Doll" inspired by the imagery found on Cgunit, a delightful website of some breathtaking artwork. Beautiful artists you do shed some light of happiness on my dark dwelling. You may get an idea of the world i am trying to create with these images as well as what i have written....still alot of work needs to be put in...

*

"He awoke, restless, bothered, beads of sweat beginning to form upon his brow. The room was musky and dark; he had not been alseep for long. His eyes adjusted to the dusty gloom around him and he suddenly realised he was no longer in West Laines. No longer did he feel the cold emptiness that fell with the air. The welcoming of thunderous marching that passed beneath his open balcony windows, the Grande kazoo sounding off the pseudo noon gaurds having patrolled the under girth of District 4, the setting of the 5th moon, the luminous warrior Azgar, as the 7th honorable philosopher Lectius, rises; no more West Laines. No orange, humid dust sweeping in, irritating his eyes; he somehow missed it all and that would have to change. There was no room for worthless emotion."

*

I want this novel to disturb as well as create a world like no other. A place to lose yourself and wonder. To feel all emotion and to find new. I have a long way to go to conquer this. Hmmmm...

...i delved into researching the imaginarium...

I spent a nice day...not it was shitting down with rain, thankfully i was nestled in the "warmth" of the Boots Library on Nottingham Trents' Campus researching some fashion material.

Took some finding but eventually i found three curious magazine beauties...took some notes on trending for the next few years and found some particularly amazing designers i'd never heard of from Istanbul, Italy & Japan...wonderful! Got really inspired by some crazy ass illustrations and documented my work with la mobile snaps...Bring on the Detective Project!!!

...following the path of the missing puzzle....

The Labyrinth...
...The Maze...
...The Puzzle.

It has been brought to my attention that i adore losing my own thoughts
within my work.
Whether that be drawing, writing music or stories, i seem to possess the feeling i am

t
u
m
b
l
i
n
g

through too many ideas at once, or balancing on a thread of explosive

creativity at the time that i end up plummeting into darkness.
It is this darkness that i adore.

It is not lonely.
It is not about being trapped.
It is not about being afraid.

It is about relishing that ultimate silence.
Basking in a subdued format to collect yourself and most importantly THINK!

Mr.Reynolds has been so kind as to set me a project based on
"Futuristic Detectives"
Already i have a plan set up and about a gizillion ideas running about.
It has been so extreme that i have written 5 new songs (absoloutely non-related to the project - i just has to use up some creativity steam)
drafted rough sketches of mens and womenswear and started collecting research...
...bearing in mind, the deadline is the 1st of August.

I need to learn to balance the excitement so that it propels and sustains my work.
In the past i have overwhelmed myself with work due to sheer excitement. Although this is a challenge...it is also rather stupid! I am hoping this task, as well as the ones i have set myself beforehand for "Kimmy's Rose Garden" will help me prepare
for when i return to Trent.

"Flirting with lumberjacks" - Tin (http://www.taintedtin.com/home.html)

...looking deep into that abyss hole of art...

Manuel Albarran
...Specialising in Metal Couture & Accessories...

After finishing his studies in Fashion, Manuel took up his interests in metal to the next level,
building up a self-taught career researching and working in different art fields
to find out what suited him best.

His work has become a massive collaboration with all areas of the media
around the world.

His love for metal has stretched beyond Fashion, focusing on art and cinema as well.

I first noticed his work in a Lady Gaga music video, yes admittedly quite a commerical find but you have to agree she does involve alot of high couture fashion in her
music to exaggerate her alter-ego self, much like Beyonce's "Sasha Fierce".

Overall i adore his work, so industrial and fantasy like, themes i generally adore, however
i don't believe his website casts a big enough glow on the displaying of his
work.

.

...i hope to fall into his desire...

T.S Eliot somehow wants me to excel in my secret realm....

....yes ok so he is in le high heavens, but he is most definitely smiling down at me. I know this by his poem, or rather i'd like to believe this, taken from the first part of his prose; BUIRNT NORTON (No. 1 of 'Four Quartets')

http://www.tristan.icom43.net/quartets/norton.html

It doesn't seem to make sense as i was born after this was written, also never knowing about one another, aka yes i was born after he died, HOWEVER, he has been quoted in the introduction of my favorite book, "Alice in Wonderland".

"Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable. What might have been is an abstraction Remaining a perpetual possibility Only in a world of speculation. What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden. My words echo Thus, in your mind."

That is me....It is me.

An oddball trapped, confused at loss in a world focused on time, as to whether i am here or i was here, what i want or what i have, how to convey when there might not be anything to convey.....it's all very confusing....but a statement...of my work or to the revealing of my creations....oh dear i seem to have lost myself...

...either way, T.S.Eliot, complete poetry Titan!