I see KW clonings

Topshop Unique Autumn/Winter 2010-2011 from Style.com

Sorry for the late post, but recently I checked out Topshop's latest Autumn/Winter 2010-2011 collection, and I could find myself reminiscing about the absurd yet nostalgic movie, Where The Wild Things Are/Imogene's antlers. The tattered garments sewn across shoulders, while the fur sympathized with the matted hairdo made imagine myself having a spur of the moment; running around in the forest, laughing along with the wolves who had diamonds.

The littered autumn leaves created the warmth feeling soothing the barbaric eyebrows, as well as the clothing pieces. PERSONALLY, I think the second photo (dreadlocked poncho) wasn't as likable as the other ones. It reminded me of a time when I accidentally put a soft wool vest in the laundry and I looked like a road kill sheep.

Yet, these pieces, no matter how "savage" or "ferocious" or even "barbaric", they seem to enchant a presence of tranquility, a good time to be young again, running wild without the world on your shoulders. Yes, you could say that I'm a wee bit too much influenced by the Wild Things movie.

Imogene's Antlers by David Small is a children's story. As I can see *wink wink* it seems to have a vague similarity of the Topshop Unique collection. So while you reminisce about the past, I'm going to go to sleep, forcing my brain to conjure up a dream of unibrowed people with antlers and gypsy costumes.

Crayons

I just went into Luxirare, and found interesting edible crayons. Of all assorted colours and flavors. It's really coincidental because just yesterday, I listened to an interview with my sister and this guy from the 1930s (I think), and he explained that some people were desperately hungry from starvation that the kids would eat wax crayons. I'm not sure I tried eating crayons, but at the same time, I think I did, for fun. As a kid.

I can imagine the wax stuck between the gums of my teeth, forever trying to pick them out with a cheap Chinese restaurant tooth pick.

But now, you can even create your edible crayons from this website http://luxirare.com/crayon/

I should probably stop talking about food. Yesh, I think I need a cheeseburger.

So... Paint on my Fingertips. Listening to some psychedelic MGMT song "Of Moons, Birds, & Monsters".

I was beginning to get bored trying to practice my spanish h/w, so I flipped the cue cards around and began drawing with pencil, marker. I think it would've been better if this person/whatever had their tongue sticking out. My sister had to state that the drawing was of an Iranian women (no pun intended), and I had to be antagonistic towards her.

I insisted furiously that it was McQueen inspired lipsticked woman mimicking a failed Louise Brooks hairstyle. With Ali Michael eyebrows. And the makeup... no comment.

I guess this is how I feel at the moment; in pieces of a puzzle with a 100o pieces. I go to a private school, and they don't offer amazing courses such as journalism, fashion design, for informative technology (where you make movies). Their art courses aren't even strong at all. At the same time, I want to graduate an American university. At the same time, I want to move back to Canada (home). Argh! I think, though I am fourteen, puberty is striking me with a slap. Hard in the face. I never knew why people with "adolescence" had a difficult school year (screaming, breaking, taking drugs etc.) Now I understand. I'm confused as ever. Eek; Got to sort this out soon.

TGIF + McQueen

Today, I painted the face of Sound of Music with my art teacher and sister.

It was strenuous; our blood of toils and sweat were lain upon the mixture of paints, grassy blue, sea green, and the shades of the Alps. I sound like the cook in Matilda, where the cook states that she has her blood and sweat inside the chocolate cake. Crap. Now I'm in jeopardy. I ate chocolate cake. It had very candied taste of chocolate, and every time I licked my lips, the oil of the chocolate remained on my lips, no matter how much I tried to wipe it off. Oh well, no matter how gross it sounds, I will forever love chocolate. Deelish.

Also, I vowed myself to buy three CDs. Cat Power, Phoenix, and. and. more. Maybe the Doors. Argh. I wish there was a Dictionary of Indie Rock Artists dead and alive. That would be quite freaking awesome. "Freaking" is a intense intensifier.

Am still upset of McQueen's death. He was quite the genius of the fashion industry. Glossy overdosed lipstick, the pastel lavender rumbled to create the perfect ancient century woman of powdered hair and face. The genius.

Alexander McQueen 16 March 1969 – 11 February 2010

Photo from CBC NEWS (Stefano Rellandini/Reuters)

.

Please fly, Mr. Superman of Flying Arts. Reach for the bedazzled stars, stars embedded in the embers of the violet skies.

Hello

So, I haven't really introduced myself yet, because of the splurge of the poems and elaborate words. Yet arts and writing are a per se to my life. Anyways, my name is Dona. It means grape vine yard. Funny, because I don't drink wine. Hahaha. I'm known for being serious with corny failing jokes, an ardor for le dernier cri, and entertaining myself by looking like a dingbat schmuck. Yes, schmuck is actually a word. I'm having fun at this blogging; and am trying to get a dung filled head of inspiration as I'm on the computer. I just also noticed that my fingers turn purplish blue when I'm on the computer; Palmare PlayStation Hidradenitis? I hope not, I mean, I don't go on the computer 24/7 a day.

My sister sometimes calls me crater head. I wonder why.

I think I'm really bored, flaring up my nostrils and my lips.

Yup. I'm bored.

The Unicorn

The white unicorn

As pure as innocence

So spell binding wasn't it?

All the men, women, children, lied,

to have seen this mysterious

and phenomenal beast

It pranced around caroling freedom

Its horn gleamed along the sunlight like icicles

too precious to be dined

as a feast on impecunious children

They say to catch a glimpse will be rewarded with

precious metals unspoken

of or wisdom naught differentiated

with those of Solomon

Oh the freedom! The Freedom!

But on one unfaithful day

where sun gleamed and

grinned to burn down the moon

A Hunter too greedy with beetle eyes

captured the poor creature!

They say the unicorn knew of its death,

foretelling its own story

They say the unicorn started to cry

as it was cornered in the murdered forest

It grieved and lamented for itself

Alas, is this all for the unicorn?

Captured in a cage

to dream up its fanatical whimsies?

Dazing in drunken stupor?

Wishing it to be on its four feet,

being the King of Captivity?

The Unicorn, captured,

as hunters smiles faltered dies inside confinement

Two hearts were broken

that unfortunate day

Just two

The Unicorn who died of a dearth of liberation

The Hunter who's beetle eyes had no jewels to feast on

The Hopeless Romantic

When I die, I wish to comeback as one of her tears
What man would be so lucky
As to have been conceived in her heart,
Born in her eyes,
Live on her cheeks,
And die at her lips?
-Anonymous