Peacocks, Peacocks, Peacocks

It began with umbrellas and ended with books, and dinner, and crazy-talk and lots of laughter. And the realization that fencing duels don't quite work very well with brollies instead of foils, but what the heck, it's fun.

Sometimes, all that matters is the crazy things. Totally random MP3s and the strangest comments in a conversation ever. Fleur, purple fluff, 2am dissolves into hysterics over peacocks, Sinfest snickers, green apples I forgot to eat for two weeks. The kind things - stuffed toys, the Agatha Christie express, scented oils, cinnamon cake, lemon pasta, rides to and fro from choir and house, and dinner to home.

Friends.

Thanks, guys'n dolls. I don't think I could have pulled through this whole week without all of you.

And in honour of the menace that is Peacocks in High Estates, Katashi - something I did for a friend last year or so:



The mask and face could've come out a lot better in retrospect. Maybe next time, maybe next time.

Here's to the peacocks, Brat!

Universal Truths

THE ART OF WAR

Daughter mine, perfect the art
Of lipstick soldiers on chessboard squares
Of kingdoms won by hourglass curves.

The venom of a lover’s kiss
Brings queens to their knees.

The power of guns versus the power of rouge:
The darts of smiles have triggered shots
One glance of the eyes, a jealous rage.

Daughter mine, know these arts
Are lies:
Half-masticated fairytales
Disgorged
From trusting mouths
Mother to daughter, me to you
As much a lie as the fable -
Real men don’t cry.

--SYL, 2008

South Pacific Deep Blue Seas

A spectacular wireworking disaster with an attempted sculptural pendant last week left me with a pewter bowlful of twisted wires and unfinished frames after three hours of total disgust and non-productivity. Last night, being a masochist, I fished one of the mangled frames out, bent things around a bit, and decided it just might be workable. Until I mucked up the wire-wrapping.

So I took it to the steel chasing block and hammered it to death in the hopes of improving it, and this was the result:





It wound up being called South Pacific, because of the colour of the mother-of-pearl shells I was using.

And of course, I just had to have a matching set of earrings and ring to go with, because I'm that sort of weird chick:





Forgive the lousy pictures. My brain's slightly dead from lack of sleep, as I went to bed around 4am finishing all this up. Why? *Everybody chimes in* I'm Insane. And I hate leaving pieces unfinished.

Now I go fall flat on my face and have chocolate.

The sketches from Langkawi WILL come eventually.