local loco

pretentious art space, sporadic posts.

[txttletale]

a poem. used some cut-up technique in writing it

[tergiversative]

the difference between you and me is that I threaten drowning by alcohol when I don’t get it my way you’ll be turned towards the sea wondering how to drink to its dregs

out there, I know there’s something looking for me somewhere in the back of a car every time I cross the road, I turn my head away from the traffic and hold my breath as I steal a tree’s glance

and I don’t so much as not belong as feel ostracised

either way, I was left disintegrating from my hands and feet

(5 Jan, 2016)

[tergiversative]

sunrise

Pointless to watch When you’ve seen it so many times So you’ll settle for As if you were back

Stranger and stranger how The sun’s shone on your doorstep, same as always Bright thoughts and hope... For everyone involved.

But you only see How you’ll never come home again.

(6 Jan, 2016)

[tergiversative]

positive reinforcement

A blur A shoutinthenight, Then nothing.

Unlearn and relearn Arguments slamming the door Knighting a book for its service in doldrum nights

‘Tis a struggle To unlearn and relearn But one day you will know

what personal space is, and how to keep it. that personal space is yours to keep.

(7 Jan, 2016)

[tergiversative]

maybe this is what modern life is: diluting our heroes  worshipping with tubs of our feet and recycled water towers that mean little but myth the irony of a world that rations happiness but creates aplenty and the realisation that i’m not woke,  i’ve barely woken up the past 10 minutes and my ancient bruises have crumbled into fleeting physical presences

[sioirsebhan]

i am on my way to being old. sailing down the carriage-line, fanning my words out, banging goodbye to everyone in life. i have thrown out my dreams, to let them sleep like old laundry upon water  to set them free with the lilies and i will hope everyone is happy after my sacrifices, like a cyclical formality  i know beauty will not last but what i dread more, in the end is existing side-by-side with a good thing for a while, and then yearning after it  as though you never left your youth, all your life again. 

[tergiversative]

old art dump nobody asked for

[tergiversative]

Positive Reinforcement the first time we meet, you have just crawled out a stale shed and let the shroud of aching fatalism fly off; nothing they could have told you would have prepared you for the thousand-eyed grandeur of Nature's first look at you. but cruelty's blood bruised kisses still linger on you, like a warning to us all: here is an animal who will be different from you. we think, instead: you are the one who survived the boxes of Life. old habits prove the most stubborn, endlessly reprimanding you to bowl your hands together while talking to strangers-- as if you were a servant, as if you would have to spill your apologies soon. but we believe the soul will live through itself; and rehabilitation is the gentle crashing of waves bringing you and all God's creatures home, bit by bit-- retrieving you from the mass of claustrophobic clasts, carrying you within blue ethereality. so that no more distress will come over you. so that if you break, it will be of tenderness, and the cradling touch of a world clasping you for comfort. for here is a reality: 'tis a struggle to unlearn and relearn what freedom is to the parakeet who knows only the blanket stare of white bars but there will come a day when you will realise what selfhood is: the truth you're allowed to keep.

[tergiversative]

vicariously boring 

[tergiversative]

will I stop leaving my drawings as incomplete sketches? who knows (used a ref, will link later)

[tergiversative]

newest drawings

[tergiversative]

fate and fortune are so flippant and i don’t know where my hard work ends and the fortune of my circumstances begin and whether i dare risk feeling grateful because that means i will settle and be content and i’m told there is nothing worse than that in this place of consume consume consume and beat out the rest and shovel their faces in the dirt and become king of the hill and do it alone so you’ll never find a wife or company and lacklustre there alone in all the glory of the riches you snatched from others 

[ggdgart]

a collection of things i wrote about color. these aren’t necessarily “tutorials", just things i’ve discovered that work for me and might help others. i’m still learning.

[tergiversative]

drawing girls with winged eyeliner for stress relief

[tergiversative]

messyyyy

[tergiversative]

 oops i’ve been neglecting my art tumblr but here’s a recent landscape sketch

the title is a grimes reference (whom i have been playing on repeat)

[tergiversative]

(2.42 pm, generic student at generic outdoor starbucks tables)

there’s a wrongness today that pervades my vision and mood and everything right down to the fingertips writing out staring words onto each fresh sheet of foolscap. it curdles all the remaining the life force i had; it makes me a dull child, and i slow down on the steps, unable to climb to the place where i could point at the world with my toes

once upon a time my future was assured by the liminal signs, in the margins and empty spaces (between prison bars on white papers, but still spaces nevertheless) - by things like the unfailing adherence to drawing fraction lines with rulers and ensuring they never deviated from the divine linearity of straight organisms. it was a more idyllic time, and you could tell because we had the time to file every night after we came home from school. and to the extent that clear healthy minds exhibit neatness and clarity, i too was bound for a further, better place than what i could afford now. it was a great distance off, beyond the horizon, but the assumption was that the assumption itself would carry us there somehow.

so when lines begin wonking and whispering to you about the frailness of your hands unable to withstand more 3 AMs and bloodshot eyes you better start worrying

today i plugged in my earphones but heard nothing, the cafeteria noise was so loud

today i no longer imagined the birds singing because the world was not waiting for me beyond an illusory horizon any more than i could scale the steps