The Girl Who Had Everything by Cecily Brown
And the wall is made of light – that entirely credible yet unreal Vermeer light…light like that does not exist, but we wish it did. We wish the sun could make us young and beautiful, we wish our clothes could glisten against our skins, most of all, we wish everyone we knew could be brightened simply by our looking at them, as are the maid with the letter and the soldier with the hat.
The girl with the music sits in another sort of light, the fitful, overcast light of life, by which we see ourselves and others only imperfectly, and seldom.
From Girl Interrupted, by Susanna Kaysen
I sometimes think to myself what a glorious and traitorous thing the body is. It’s all you have, this bag of skin and bones you live in, yet so often it betrays you with diseases large and small, by sprouting hairs in unlikely places, by drying up when you need it to be wet, by building up layers of blubber when you want to whittle it down to the bone.
Key words of the day: beauty, shame. Continue reading
There comes a time, in every little girl’s life, when the only kind of gem that makes sense is a diamond.
It’s called growing older, more materialistic, more desperate and more cynical.
It seems a mighty shame though, to throw away all those rhinestone rings and teenage baubles….nothing would ever quite match their cheap sparkle against sweaty teenage skin. Continue reading
Much as I like to moan about how I can’t keep up with the circle of lovely marrieds surrounding me, deep down I guess I like being single, up to a point. Can’t quite conceive of a life of shared intimacy, however happy…except maybe in separate flats, in small doses and at scheduled hours.
Even back when things were going swimmingly and I have a more, um, varied pick of suitors, I was the type of person who thinks Valentine’s Day is a joke and would rather get a new piercing than get into a long-term relationship with someone. My periodic bouts of sociability back then was already stretched to the limit by those crazy intense friendships with unattainable females. Oh, and did I mention I broke up with my first love via a typed ‘resignation letter’? (granted, my handwriting had always been atrocious. Continue reading
Surf’s up on Repulse Bay
So it’s goodbye to blue skies and long days drinking in the summer; hello to a work desk and clocking in/out again. Yes, ’tis the season for work after a long hiatus away from employment. (Blame it on the recurring blues) This is make-or-break time, unfortunately…my last-gasp attempt at middle-class propriety. But I’m trying to convince myself that I should treat everything with the utmost lightness.
Until it gets so light that I cancel myself out.