Sunday, 24 July 2011

songs for the mopish ones


A strange melancholy pervades me which i hesitate to give the give the grave and beautiful name of sadness. On that very night I experienced a live performance from my most favourite band ever, The Cranberries. I had fed the heart of fantasies, the heart's grown brutal from the fair, more substance in the enmities between the red hood and the black fur.

I bade, because the wick and oil are spent and frozen are the channels of the blood, My discontented heart to draw content from beauty that is cast out of a mould. That strange feeling appears as Dolores sung the third song, suddenly the werewolf came abruptly in a greyscale scene, the suspect who have been clenching my eye with a cold fire, but when I think it over, we have gone is gone again, being more indifferent to our solitude. Than 'twere an apparition. O' heart, we are not young nor old; we cannot pay its tribute of forbidden tears.

Ah no more was needed, time to prolong, than dumb and fool. Though is not that easy peasy, farewell, for I am no longer in grieve.

Thank You Dolores,  Mike, Noel, and Fergal for the marvellous songs for my dim mind that filled with dishevelled ancient things.

Sunday, 10 July 2011

circus for the mopish student

yeayyyy!!! the nastily exhausting final project has done :D now we can see the absurd sensation in reading book, actually i don't take my project seriously, Edward Gorey once said "I just kind of conjured them up out of my subconscious and put them in order of ascending peculiarity" hmm I think that words suits my project well.
Thank you for helping me beloved ones, you know who you are!! thank you mon petit Rain Chudori, your writings are splendiferous!! I love you Rain.

The Installation

The dream jar
the dream jar

The book cover, printed on canvass
the book cover

The two colours tyvek book jacket

The boy who dreamt too much
the boy who dreamy too much

The book
the book

Eyes without a face and the clocks

Illustration piece from the story 'Grandmother's Clocks'
time is not exist and everybody gets stuck.

Illustration piece from the story 'Smoking with God'

Illustration piece from the story 'The boy who dreamt too much' the bearded lady and the three footed man
the bearded lady and the three-footed man

the mopish student and her friends :3

hereby i declared that the end of the project is the circus for the mopish student :3

Saturday, 9 July 2011

the day bob gets married to a succubus

the day bob gets married to a succubus

a speckled bat and a tame duck
eat at my hearthstone
some day  may forget
their food and drink
or, the house door left unshut,
the duck may run till it's found
the horn's sweet note ant the tooth of the hound

I bear a burden that might well try
younger that do all by rule
wandering- witted fool
But pray to God that they ease?
My great responsibilities.

inspired by W.B. Yeats's songs for a fool