Monday, 13 April 2015

World Madness

I've been in love with this image for years.  It comes with the album Ill Communication by the Beastie Boys a favourite of mine since the early 90s.  I recommend listening to the Update.  Since I last posted I've been thinking a lot that mental illness, (which I don't think is a very good way of describing a common aspect of human nature) as inclusive of everyone.  Just an idea but I believe sanity is a rarer thing, something that has to be earned through overcoming challenges and being stretched and transformed by them.  Thinking about mental illness on a global scale I think is an obvious way of looking at it.   like the timeless Virtual Insanity by Jamiroquai.  I like to think if you .  fear losing your mind if you haven't already or feel you never will.  That feels to be like a form of insanity to be very secure in a particular world view.  I wonder if this fear or absolute certainty in our perceptions comes from the rigidity and pressure we make for ourselves in society.  That is having to appear to have it together at all times, maintain, look good, don't embarrass yourself, make good impressions and impress, be successful.  Getting a bit trainspotting "Choose life, Choose a job".....  Although many people succeed in these requirements and good on them ( I'm still trying) There doesn't seem much margin for error.  I often feel that we live in a strict and conservative society, it feels we are standing on ceremony.  Constricted in our movements emotional, mental and physical as if we were all wearing very tight corsets.  This tree of life image for me is so true of what is happening now with the priority being on superficiality. I think that at least the majority of us the way its going will look toned, youthful with great hair and clothes to greet the end of world.

 "But we're never gonna survive, unless we get a little crazy"- Seal

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Van Gogh portraits

Sz Icon

Sz Icon

St Dymhna as shaman

St Dymhna as shaman

A story by Izzy

Live Forever

Once upon a time, in a place far far away, there lived a beautiful and spirited woman, who was like a wild flower.

Her hair contained the most incredible dreams and wonderful magic spells, from the most beautiful parts of the earth and from the edges of the solar system.

The wind of the East fell deeply in love with her and played through her lovely locks, it became such that she could command the weather.

One day the wind spoke to the smoke of her cigarette and told it to cling to each and every strand of her beautiful hair.
The cigarette smoke obeyed the wind and saturated through everyone of the golden threads and began to decay from within.

The bright sunshine of her days began to grow dimmer and colder and she was dragged deep under ground and was sent to Whitchurch Castle in the clouds.

Here she battled tooth and nail with demons and dragons. Spoke with angels and had untold adventures with good and evil.

The beautiful dreams that dwelt in her hair, turned into terrifying nightmares.

She went to the well to wash her hair, but the water would not cleanse or renew it. The sun refused to shine upon it and the saddest of all, the wind no longer wanted to play with it.

So the young woman by this time, had become a princess, scraped back her beloved hair into a ponytail and the gold sunshine began to grow out, taking her dreams and magic spells with it.

The Castle keepers were worried about her and so gave her a magic potion to rid the evil smoke that had claim of her hair.
An eternity came and went and she grew older.

One clear day the smoke had finally gone once and for all.

She was banished from the kingdom of Whitchurch and was now expected to toil the fields with the good men and women of the outside world.

She was now mortal and pined for the Easterly wind to play with her again, but he no longer loved her.

One cold morning, she had an idea to attract him back to her, so she sat at her mirror and plaited her hair into strands and put coloured ribbon on the ends to bind them.
Would he notice her again?

With her hair plaited, he would see a string of golden tears that she cried over missing him so much.

Now she lives in a little hut in the village and has worn her hair in plaits for 2,000 years.

One day she hopes it will be unravelled, when he remembers where he left his sunny days and warm nights with her on the moon.
The End

Illustration for story Live Forever

Illustration for story Live Forever
This is a drawing of the character in a story I wrote for a digital story telling course with the Four Winds

Bay Girls

Bay Girls
This is a drawing of two of my neighbours

Zippo face warmers

Zippo face warmers