OH MY GOD I don't know what happened to my entry but it's

<A HREF="http://community.livejournal.com/jr__nal/4189518.html#cutid1">here</A>

OK, I know I just recently posted but you know, more of the love.
If you're not interested in art or are afraid of nudity then go away and be a philistine somewhere else because this post is mostly about eyecandy. (insert a double entendre here)

I just need to say that Cedric Rivrain is now one of my top favourite artists EVEER, seriously guys I love him. Just the minute you click that nice little link there you see a gorgeous picture after him that leaves you wanting more.

( Few of my favourites )

Another great site if been lurking for a while is Omg Posters!
It's awesome, I totally want to make posters now




I find that there's a chair there hilarious!





another pleasant little thing brought to you by omg posters.

Moving on!

So, Kim Cattrall published a book about sex, and being the perv I am I kind of had to look through it, don't recall why though I think it was in some kind of joke. Anyway I opened it up and YOU GUUUYYYS! it has awesome art work! A big surprise there. Flowers grow amongst tombstones.
I was so happy, I thought this was just some stupid "how to give a chick an organism brought to you by the chick that screws on tv wearing stylish clothing" and it is, WITH ARTISTIC PICTURES 8D

So, I looked through the whole index in the bookstore so now I'm probably known as the town pervert but whatever, one must suffer for art (hehe)
I picked favourites and here they are
Let's begin with Herbert Draper. His work include The Water Baby, The lament to Icarus and Ulysses and the Sirens
I love how all the girls are so pale and virtuous looking, but they also have this lush. I like how the sirens look like the just POPPED up from the water. Gorgeous.

Then it's the victorian painter, Frederic Leighton. Another mermaid picture with a girl that seems to have sprung from the water immediately seducing her man. The Fisherman and the syren apparently it's from a ballad by Goethe. (which just pushes up the win) You can see the ballad here. this picture is though kind of the only thing I've seen by him that I really like.

Charles William Mitchell comes with his pretty pretty Hypatia

and last but NOT least is Evelyn De Morgan, I'm so happy that I can put a woman amongst these geniuses. Her work is great, most if it religious i think but here is my favourite one Cadmus and Harmonia Harmonia is the daugher of Ares and Aphrodite.

So, that's pretty much all I have to show for now but I do have more that shall wait for a better time. I've been listening a lot to A HREF="http://www.radioblogclub.com/open/3136/held_the_world_in_your_arms/Idlewild_-_You_held_the_world_in_your_arms">You held the world in your arms</a> by Idlewild and A HREF="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_jSRN1bQzk">Johanna</a> from Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd.

I'm going to go dears, before I go, I'm thinking about making this journal friends only. your opinion?

I'm lame at my updates, terribly sorry, the internet at my home denies me from commenting, checking my e-mails, posting and even going on youtube!

Yesterday my class and I went bowling and I lost horribly. broke 3 nails and everything. SUCK
Next time, bitchez are going doooown! Gotta work on my swing, haha!

So, I've been watching Romeo+ Juliet, you know in scene 2 act 2 (or in the movie, the pool act) were Romeo declared his love for Juliet and when she was going away he said

"Why must you leave me so unsatisfied?" (wanting her to declare her love back)
On Modern Society! that would mean something like "what, you're going already? I didn't even get a b/j for that!" I actually don't like that in the beginning of the story (when he can not eat nor sleep and etc) where he's so madly in love with Rosaline and then when he sees Juliet that love goes POOF! Gone! Yesterday's news! I don't like it, it totally makes his love for Juliet seem less valuable, like there's nothing in his declarations

Gah I've been talking about nothing but love and mush recently, I'm such a girly mush.

In other news, I have also been freshing up on my serial killer knowledge, reading about Albert Fish, gory little pecker ain't he?
Just in the first few sentences we get

sado-masochistic pedophile
torture murderer
serial killer
cannibal
and homicide

Wel,, if you read further along we get stuff like
homosexual rapist
drinking urine
coprophagia
male prostitute
and brothel

This has pushed him up in my top 5 list of gnarly serial killers. And then I went reading a little more about Charles Manson, I wanted to learn a little about his "family" but I kind of just started reading about his music

Now I have 2 demos from Charles Manson's cd,a actually not that bad, at least considering circumstances.
And before I finish with this "distasteful" part of the post let me just ask you one thing

If you did not know about the work of this man (and if he was shaven?) would you consider him as attractive?



And I'm just talking about from this photo, after spending good time in prison he got kind of "hard" you know?
And please don't go get your stakes and torches, I'm just asking because of the quote "charles manson had a tight butt" that I had to go and see for myself, haha!
i read a Rolling Stone Interview with him, where he's been in prison for 22 years. I actually don't know That much about Charles, I know what he did and stuff, but nothing about the family or about him after he was caught, I asumed that he was just put to death. Call me crazy but I like his words there, what he says, it might not make any sense to a lot of people, but I like it a lot. I wanted to put quotes from it here but the site has some kind of a copy protector or something.
You can read the interview for yourself Here

I like when he talks about the ego, when he talks about that the children are born with total awareness and paranoia, hoe they're taught that they have to die and that it's a lie, and how he talks about love in everything. The interviewer describes his movements, and his movements kind of "deflate" his words, the movements take them from being well, "sence making and artsy" into being kind of crazy and dirty. I'm not sure if I believe everything that the interviewer says, after all, they really needed to hold on to that this was the most disgusting man walking the earth?

Somebody posted a poem by Neil Gaiman named Boys and Girl's together, which i love so I'm going to post it here, since I jump at any chance to talk about Neil Gaiman, Maybe I'll even post another poem that I own after him next time!

Boys and Girls Together
by Neil Gaiman

Boys don't want to be princes.
Boys want to be shepherds who slay dragons,
maybe someone gives you half a kingdom and a princess,
but that's just what comes of being a shepherd boy
and slaying a dragon. Or a giant. And you don't really
even have to be a shepherd. Just not a prince.
In stories, even princes don't want to be princes,
disguising themselves as beggars or as shepherd boys,
leaving the kingdom for another kingdom,
princehood only of use once the ogre's dead, the tasks are done,
and the reluctant king, her father, needing to be convinced.

Boys do not dream of princesses who will come for them.
Boys would prefer not to be princes,
and many boys would happily kiss the village girls,
out on the sheep-moors, of an evening,
over the princess, if she didn't come with the territory.

Princesses sometimes disguise themselves as well,
to escape the kings' advances, make themselves ugly,
soot and cinders and donkey girls,
with only their dead mothers' ghosts to aid them,
a voice from a dried tree or from a pumpkin patch.
And then they undisguise, when their time is upon them,
gleam and shine in all their finery. Being princesses.
Girls are secretly princesses.

None of them know that one day, in their turn,
Boys and girls will find themselves become bad kings
or wicked stepmothers,
aged woodcutters, ancient shepherds, mad crones and wise-women,
to stand in shadows, see with cunning eyes:
The girl, still waiting calmly for her prince.
The boy, lost in the night, out on the moors.

...
Gah I love that poem, my favourite part is probably "Girls are secretly princesses"

i was going to rant a little more, even put my own writing here, but I'm really over my head in homework so that's it for now.

In the end, I've bene loking through a lot of art and stuff recently, some of it found from http://ffffound.com and some of it just googling and looking around. anyway, I really like Derek Hess, how all is bodies are so strained, so painful and I can just see how every vein is "stretched" and how every muscle is twisting.
I'd even like to get a tattoo with him, the guy with the heart shaped hole in him is quite popular.

Goodbye.



"Look down at me and you see a fool;
look up at me and you see a god;
look straight at me and you see yourself”
- Charlie Manson

I want to be a lover in a tragedy.

I want to be Romeo and Juliet, I want to be Tristan and Isolde, I might even settle for Sid and Nancy.

I want to hold someone's hand in secret and climb windows
I want to fall to my knees in the rain and cry out, I want to dig my hands into the ground under the sun,
I want to run aimlessly in the snow until my friends manage to hold me down.
I want someone with just right amount of self-destructiveness.

I'm scared of being the envious moon, I'm scared of being Rosaline
"Í Skugganum sat Talía."

I don't think much about it usually, but every time the subject crosses my mind I can feel my quiet obsession tugging down there.

Where Todd throws up in the snow after Neil kills himself, where Romeo screams in the rain, where Isolde cries in the boat, where Jack says to Ennis "I wish I knew how to quit you."

I used to know the whole thing Romeo said about Juliet
_{"Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes"}
The Tiger by William Blake is my favourite poem, but I heard it first in "The dangerous lives of altar boys" When Francis read it at Tim's funeral.
_{"And when the stars threw down their spears and watered heaven with their tears"}
I knew Sid's scribbled poem about Nancy by heart
_{"I don't want to live this life if I can't live for you"}
One of my favourite parts in Tristan and Isolde is where Isolde reads John Donne's poem The good-morrow.
_{"Whatever dies was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or thou and I
Love so alike that none do slacken, none can die."}

I don't want to die peacefully in a comfortable bed in an elderly home, have a heart attack at age 70 or by cancer when I'm 30. Fuck that.
I want it to be on the cold floor like in Reservoir dogs where the guy is practically drowning in his own pool of blood, insert a lover there trying to stop the bleeding and in the end holding his motionless body tight, his head on her shoulders, fingers going through his hair. Can't you just picture it?
In a church with soft light from candles, curled up together. Death by poison. Cold hands, warm heart.
Under the sky like a naked tree, where my blood leaks down to the sewers when Northern Downpour comes, sending it's love and washing my tired sins away. Where only the rain can hear my frantic sobs.
Naked in a car crash with the tunage cranked up to eleven.

I'm not ready to settle for anything less.

The cobwebs of your fragile sanity hang in the air,
and I must confess that your chapped lips denote cracks in it too.
But fear not, flowers grow between the cracks of tombs, also in your despair
I bet on a thursday morning, the buds will start cracking through.
We sit and I watch the cobwebs, hanging delicately in the ceiling,
with tiny sets of of water drops that have made them their home.
Home is what I miss the most, not the house but the feeling.
I bet they come in six packs, just so they won't feel alone.
If I'd crack your shell you'd bleed rainbows, in various shades of grey
submerging my pastels, I'm incapable of forming any actual colours.
But that's where we crash together, shadeless and shapeless in decay.
Eerie and uncanny, bent unbroken lovers.
Sometimes we're machines, metal, with vivid lights and steaming lungs but cold.
we push buttons and our fingers are wrangled together like electrical cords.
I've grown custom to it, maybe it was programmed there, at least we'll never get old.
I like to think our souls are wrangled there too, we are each others lords.
Your diamond eyes are starting to form into broken glass
but to me it's flawless patterns of endless frost roses
Without you I'd crumble, disappear and time wouldn't pass.
we're drug attics, we don't come in small doses.
In our rusted pipes we breath ashes, of paper butterflies.
each with a scribbled memory, wishes from hopelessly hopefuls
and together we burned each and every memory, all the lies
my love, my Lisa, my god is truly bountiful.

. . .

Wow, I started hating this thing halfway through. Don't really know why I'm posting this.