Thursday 13 December 2012

Post Mortem, a painting by Lewis 1964

I stumble through Bosky paths,
Faces clutched deeply By the mocking darkness. 

I feel through solid Black,
Blinded by piƱatas.
A xylophone counting my steps,
Striking off my seconds.

Fish with Bulbous eyes and tiger print scales,
Bleached rabbits with racoon ears,
Kiwi Birds with no Beaks,
and constantly, the B.

All watch as B leads me astray:

Death By B.

Sunday 9 December 2012

Standing Female Nude with Blue Scarf, a painting by Tolstoy

I stand, nipples blooming from dying buds,
Erect and laced with goose bumps, untouched.
Once supported by slender shoulders,
Now held by man’s strength.

My plump bottom aches and juts,
Awaiting inexistent fingertips.
My muscles stretch,
Forming my missing half.

A pot-belly clings to me,
brewing butterflies.
A trail for grazing lips,
unwalked.

I peer down to my thickening legs:
Thick trunks I envisioned
wrapped around my own,
still propped by dainty knees.

My eggs begin to burst and crack,
slipping between my closing folds,
spilling womanhood.

I cast aside my scarf,
My change bare for hissing eyes,
My shame is their.


Saturday 8 December 2012

Early in the morning a painting by Rosenquist

Pop your pill and pluck each of my segments
Pluck with darkened fangs and scrape my rind.
Legs escape logic as city’s fall through thin slits,
                                                         Sew me whole.

Scrapers dance along my stomachs edge,
windows crack to smell my thoughts.
Pull my stitching and lay me open.
Spill my nectar, colour the earth with my pulp.

Float from the barren floor sodden with my sap,
to the sky, torn indecisively,

                                            see what my acid does. `

Friday 7 December 2012

“I am the hero of Africa”- Idi Amin

Rorschach.
                                                 Rorschach tells me:
                                                                                                white black white black;
                                                                              white spills
                                                                                              to black.
                                                        crocodile strains                             to snap cross,
                                                                                           devour.
                                                Victorious arms stretch              to shrieking cat in eyeball,
                                                                                                                       Almond.
                                                              Butchery faded white in black,
                                                                                                  Africa’s hero takes his throne:
                                                White dot black                            white dot black
                                                                                                                       SOS

Friday 16 November 2012

Interview with tattoo artist Nicholas Gill

In the past, if you had a tattoo you were a member of a circus freak show, a criminal or a hardened thug who rode around causing havoc on a Harley. Tattoos were once a tell-tale sign of a social outcast, a rebel or worse: a leather-clad folk devil. These kinds of people opened the door for tattoos in the western world, a door most wanted to shut. Nowadays though, it seems celebrities and the music scene have wedged open the door, rolled out the red carpet and waved a welcome banner. Tattoos are more popular now than ever before, if anything they’ve become a prominent fashion accessory. In America, its estimated 14% of its population are sporting art on their skin, it doesn’t sound like much at first, but that’s a massive 42.7 million people.
So, if the likes of Blink182’s Travis Barker, David Beckham and Penelope Cruz can all ink their skin, things are finally looking good for the world of tattoos, right? Smitten with the idea of treating my own body as a blank canvas, my ideal response would be ‘right’, but that would be as bogus as the transfer tattoos kids find in their sweets.
Having parents with tattoos, I found myself growing up with shows such as ‘Miami Ink’ and ‘Ink Master’. The shows glamourized tattoos so well that I never even considered that the art form still restricts job prospects, suffers at the hands of ‘scratchers’ (untrained and unlicensed ‘artists’, who tattoo cheaply and often unhygienically) and leads to discrimination.
Nicholas Gill, who runs and works in his own tattoo shop of four years-, has struggled with these issues throughout his career. “These shows increased our client base and did finally show tattoos in a good light, but they also made clients unrealistic on how long tattoos take. People think a full sleeve takes a matter of hours when really its months, so many people turn to rushed work. It has increased the number of ‘Scratchers’ who think they’re tattooists, when really they’re just ruining people’s skin, making our job harder”.
With the amount of people wanting quick and cheap tattoos increasing, so too are scratch tattoos displayed for judgement; so it’s little surprise that some of the public fail to see the arts evolution and progression. Nicholas went on to say, “We get a lot of people coming in that want scratch work fixing or covering, but most of the time it’s that bad and so poorly done, the skin is too damaged and badly scared that we can’t do much, they’re worse than prison tattoos.”

And it’s not just Scratcher’s needles to fear: unemployment’s off-putting too.  HMV recently revealed an ‘appearance policy’, in which employees must cover their body art; and unless you’re willing to buy cover-up products, I’m not sure how you’re meant to hide knuckle, neck or facial tattoos. And it’s not just HMV. Because it’s legal to discriminate against, most companies ask employees to hide tattoos or leave. Even Metropolitan Police are disallowed visible tattoos, fearing damage to their professionalism. Nicholas constantly see’s clients affected, “only yesterday a client told me she would receive warnings over a visible tattoo, so she changed placement from her arm to her hip.”

Discrimination doesn’t only affect careers either. In Texas, a mother and her child were escorted from Lego Land after complaints over her raunchy Tinkerbell tattoo. Nicholas stated, “Some people still see tattoos as horrible, relating them to thug culture. Everybody’s opinions vary, singling somebody out like that, to me, is as wrong as judging by the colour of skin or gender.”

Even Channel 4 caused outrage with their show, ‘My tattoo addiction’, showing unhygienic ‘artists’ tattooing drunks with shamefully bad pieces. I was dismayed at the representation, the quality of tattoos has rapidly increased, new styles and realism pieces are as lifelike as photos. Old fashioned branding has turned into an art form, made evident by Nicholas, “I specialise in custom work because I feel tattoos are so much more than just marking. It’s a way you can express yourself through meaningful art. We get a lot of clients who had tattoos during the 70s and 80s who have seen what is possible and like to update their work. Its gaining respect and people are finally seeing what can be done with a needle.”


His words held optimism, but I was soon disappointed, “despite their beauty though, because of their bad history, I can’t see them ever being fully accepted, no matter how many millions have one.’ I took to the public hoping for an alternative, but words like, “I don’t care how well done they are, I have always found them disgusting and the sign of a thug or hussy, and always will” from Dave Baker, have left me with the thought that some stigmas are as permanent as tattoos themselves, so if you go under the needle you’re going to need thick skin. 

Friday 27 April 2012

Titanic’s body


My carcass lies on a barren floor,
hands which caressed my walls abandoned ship.
Rust grows on my surface,
every porthole filled with barnacles.

I held such promise, you flocked like seagulls.
Struck down in my prime, torn open, bleeding.
Ice cold fingers pried open my skin, filling me
with loss. Pulling me under.

My beds lie empty, my doors off their hinges.
Currents flow through me, but I lay unmoving,
untouched.
Recklessness saw me claimed by the abyss.
My carcass lies on a barren floor. 


Wednesday 22 February 2012

I noticed walking down the street today how much filth we create. The pavement looked more like dalmatian skin with the amount of chewing gum it was coated in. I thought about it and its really disgusting, I hate people spitting, I think its one of the most fowl things to see, so to think how many people have spat a chunk of whale fat coated in their spit onto the floor we constantly walk on made me feel a little sick really. I wish people were more clean and considerate.

New Found Glory- Birmingham. 16/2/2012

So I went to see New Found Glory in Birmingham. I went feeling disappointed that Sum41 had dropped out and been replaced with the awfulness that is The Blackout. The last time I saw them at Leeds Festival 2011, where the lead singer thought it would be 'rock and roll' to make himself vomit on stage, so most of the set was spent watching him jam his fingers down his throat. I couldn't decide if that was better or worse than watching the band trying to play music. Me and my friends got there late due to the ever amazing public transport system and we'd already missed most of the first two bands which left me even more gutted. As dreaded, The Blackout came on yet in a surprising twist, we'rent as bad as I expected. They played better, got a better reaction from the crowd and were more humble about themselves, there wasn't even a drop of vomit in sight. They wore Sum41 shirts and apologised for being their replacements, fully acknowledging the fact that most people would have preferred them to be playing, which I liked. New Found Glory killed it, just as a band of their reputation should. They were amazing and were well worth the money it ended up costing, they got the crowd going really well, had good banter and played their songs really well. I do wish they'd of had a slightly different set list but I don't think with how good it was that I could ask for more from them. I may have had to pay for numerous different transport systems, battle my way though a packed crowd (Which is always worse when you're my hight, which happens to be the same as most people's armpits) and sleep on a friends floor after, but it was definitely worth it. If you're even slightly interested in New Found Glory, go see them. It will be glorious, I promise.

Tuesday 3 January 2012

The Amber Knife, Philip Pullman

My book came today!

I already owned a copy of it but a friends dog chewed it to pieces and I'd just started reading it again for the millionth time.

It's part of a trilogy called 'His Dark Materials' which is truly amazing.  It's brilliantly written and the plot develops so well you struggle to not read through it in one sitting. I can't wait to read through it again, I read it first as a child and loved it but as you read it again when you're older you see so many more levels to it and it challenges the whole concept of religion brilliantly, something I like to see.

You should give it a read.