mike emily tom i am the jealousest hestia...take me me meeee with you

and thanks to the wonderful ms hedditch
also

this

this and

this


boy oh boy do i love the south london gallery. bring on the weekend baby. i'm so there. those who haven't yet noticed the wonderland that is south london, get on with it!i might be maybe applying for my first real not a monkey job. fingers toes and eyes all firmly crossed.


my to do list is hella crazy right now. it includes writing an erotic short story (it might have to be very short because i'm a bit scared...). diagramming an origami cunt. two different types of proposals. booking driving lessons (will it ever be over?)applying for several jobs. creating myself a convincing portfolio using a leather suitcase and lots of cardboard folders. pursuading my computer to burn videos which i will have showreeled to dvd. setting up a stall in spitalfields. designing a witty xmas card involving homeopathy for my mother's business. finding E L wire and buying it. writing two letters. visiting ju l; i a and b e c k y if an yone can hel p me i n a n y way at a l l wi th an y of th es e things i wi ll l o v e you forever/.and .z.ever. amen

and actually yet again i can't quite belive it but the festivals just like me and i AM going to the ball afterall a ha ha ha haaa haaa.yes.

how can things keep feeling like coming home every time i think they never can again?

i don't think a website has ever made me cry with happiness before. i want to have this woman's babies. i have turned into a rabid take-that-fan-esque ecstatic on exposure to her html. this is the fucking best shit ever ever. ever ever ever. ever.

aaaaagh.

i think she might have fixed me. just for ten minutes maybe. yes. fucking yes. girls win.

go go go go go GO o O O

ok hestia, wake the fuck up, 00000000000000you're nearly dead, this is bad...wake up damnit. wake up. its september, they're drilling holes in walls near 000your 00000head why are you still sleeping?

to do:

get the scooter ride the scooter get job (the temp agency will want you to look normal hestia so start thinking cos your gonna need a plan)get the money get place on MA have very good exhibition go to sister's WEDDING 0000000000travel make sure THEY don't notice that this is all much too difficult for hestia's and that you should have started in the beginners section and not tried to be clever and skip straight to advanced way back in year six.

to echo a dear friend in a recent sms000000000000

000000000000000where is everybody?????? and especially where is amy?00000 amy help, reality bites was real, it was real and it was a sign and we didn't take it we just thought it was a really cheesy film and its actually happening my life is dissolving into torrid piles of used up american cliche's from the last decade and i don't like it. i'm trying to look on the bright sides but there's a kamakazi in my head somewhere trying to fuck shit up. somewhere we'll plant daffodils and they'll come up in the spring.0000000000000

* . ; +}=="^

jump off edges.

m a k e a w i s h q u i c k g e t it a l i g h t b u r n b u r n b u r n

there is more now please go see thank you so everyone always always always this isn't stopping its just breathing love love love begin again tomorrow. ,.x x' x _ - x xx..;"x%^x^= x x+ xxx x

the neighbours think.

i told you coldharbour lane was avant garde.




bet our house is better...

jasmine toddy

ladies and gentlemen may this small hesita peep herewith present to you her humble attempt at curing the pernicious and irritating common cold for your home remedying pleasure take one chinese jasmine tea bag preferably purchased at your local oriental grocery establishment (of which said peep most heartily recommends messrs wing tai of camberwell) replete with golden yellow packaging in the quaintest of styles and individually wrapped in paper, spoons of a superior brand of honey to your own taste (this step must not be avoided and, the peep must stress, is not optional, honey here provides an essential medicinal purpose and is not to be mistaken for a mere sweetener) and steep in freshly boiled water for several minutes having added a healthy slug of the best damned scotch you can lay your hands on.

i suspect dorothy of starting all this

so you see this map demands more. specifically, now, a video of the bonfire at four winds i forgot i made, and my orange dress, which somehow has escaped me wearing it in my videos, unless you count ed wearing it dressed up as me. but emily wore it and i wore it in amy's film, which she's calling sadie and emily was sadie and i was alice and i wore the dress and we smoked a cigarette and then she wore the dress and wound up that bright bright orange ribbon i bought to be mine and then today i watched the bonfire i'd forgotten about and thought about making a video finally where i wore my orange dress (the one that means this is really happening) and i thought between the orange sparks of the dots they'll make in the map and the joinings there'll be from the places where there are already small embers trying to burn and i'll say burn burn burn and there'll be this flaring orange fire we built and then there'll be my dress and it will really be happening and i remembered the post before where i wrote that i wore my orange dress, the one that means this is really happening and that a fire was burning in the grate and i thought the house would turn in against him in anger and burn him up and so i wrote with the soft scented pencils she sadie emily gave me for my birthday, used the orange pencil for the first time, that i wore my orange dress, t h e one that means this i s r e a l l y h a p p e n i n g .

cold harbour

i am looking up houses to let in hastings, and short courses i could do if i lived there, ones about community development and pattern cutting. i could run away now, fuck all this and go be a provincial liberal kook with no qualifications... i could look at the sea every day. i could. i could.

i have only eaten sweets today but some of them were cantonese macaroons pink lychee and raspberry, yellow lemon and cashew, green lime and green tea and white (like a cloud sublimating [idiot]in your mouth) pistachio and coconut they came in a box that looked like it should have jewellery in it, i love it when sharif visits, my toes could taste those babies.

i have at least managed to wean myself off soul-dulling, tooth itchingly m.o.r glastonbury message boards. they are an absolute insult to the festival and i am ashamed of myself.

my hair won't seem to be red.

it is raining. from my window you can smell wet car fumes which seems somehow wholesome and comforting. london is getting into parts of my brain i never told it it could.

i am absolutely, utterly freaking out.

in a seminar last week tina reminded me about that dot matrix paper that my dad (and possibly all dads) used to bring home in the eighties for small me to draw on. and it had bits of codey dads job wierdness on one side and i used to just draw over the top of it and it made me so happy when she said it cos i'd forgotten all about it but that is e x a c t l y what i mean by this work. ..

. ..somehow. among other things...

what he could do, he did

read this. love this. so.

the best girl in texas

i am still bleeding from watching 'bonnie and clyde' the other day. i want to run away with them. i loved it.

♣

the dolce utopia

" ...art was intended to prepare and announce a future wold: today it is modelling possible universes.
the ambition ofartists who include their work in the slipstream of historical modernity is to repeat neither its forms, nor its claims, and even less to assign to art the same functions as it. their task is akin to the one Jean Francois Lyotard allocated to postmodern architecture which is, "condemned to create a series of minor modifications in a space whose modernity it inherits, and abandon an overall reconstruction of the space inhabited by humankind". what is more, Lyotard seems to half-bemoan" this state of affairs: he defines it negatively, by using the term 'condemned'. and what, on the other hand, if this 'condemnation' represented the historical chance whereby most of the art worlds known to us managed to spread their wings..? this 'chance' can be summed up in just a few words: learning to inhabit the world in a better way, instead of trying to construct it based on a preconcieved idea of historical evolution. otherwise put, the role of artworks is no longer to form imaginary and utopian realities but to actually be ways of living and models of action within the existing real, whatever the scale chosen by the artist."

'relational aesthetics' - nicolas bourriaud

emma has lent me a very exciting book

love me

...tender


it wants attention. from you.

(thank you) ♥ morelinkspleasejointhedotswithmeiwantbridgesforspidersandtheirlightlightworkingses

yes

s l o w l y d i s i n t e g r a t i n g a s i t b e c o m e s p a r t o f t h e l a n d s c a p e. . . ....

for dorothy

ok hestia you're gonna write til you stop pretending this isn't happening. til what comes out of your brain vaguely resembles whats happening inside it and begins to take on a life of its own.




here is what's happening.

I am eating oat cakes and shropshire blue with too much butter (everything has too much butter on it recently.) listening to regina spektor's 'us' for the third time in a row its the song for this attempt to escape the trough thats lasted for the last two months . it's contagious it's contagious it's contagio u u u uhU S. it makes me think about us as in all these people staring at blank walls and computer cursors, the one's i found for myself, the ones she told me about in my tutorial that can see invisible things there isn't any way of talking about but try anyway. who try. us as in community. as in people that take responsibility for themselves instead of contracting their lives out to some big corporate institution that will live it for them. groups of people thinking independently. like amy said, like a multiplicity instead of many people alone. like amy's film. i've got really bad at dot joinging recently, all the multiplicities in my work are unravelling into lonely little pieces. thoughts lost in the time passing wind blowing. i need to phone my mum. i need to email my sister. i owe becky a letter from the one she wrote me in february. i owe live journal posts, i owe myself the clothes i've been wearing since i got ill, kisses not given, plans not made, notes not organised, documentation to present, more phone calls, more emails. i did manage to hoover my floor.

i need to take up a lot more space. i got a table in the studio on monday and already somebody asked me if they could use a bit of the wall over it i nearly said ok but realised what was happening just in time to resist. i need to inhabit the physical as much as the...what is the opposite of physical when you believe thoughts to be real, material things? is that my problem? the virtual has always been actual to me but the point is to actualise it for other people so its actually there for them instead of expecting them to know the code my bit of timespaceconsciousness is written in. fuck that sounded pretentious. fuck. good word. very tangible. actually there. somewhere.

becky said to find a key, like a map of it. wait a minute didn't i already try and do that? why is it that in a fog you go round and round in circles. one goes round and round in circles. alone. not realising one is surrounded by many other ones. like amy said. maybe a key is different, a system for understanding, not a representative image (oh, cleverness). i think this spiderworking i've been doing has got keys in it. lots. i just gotta pick one. (again a strange feeling of deja vu. fuck.)

i liked acting in amy's film. lines were very blurry. everything was very actual. but tricksy and good difficult to explain. her and mike are my heroes.

i like dan's t-shirt.

"everything i touch turns to gold", she says, "then to silver, then to tears."

(someone somewhere should be called 'verde'.)

on small burning embers

"Lined hearths are easily identified by the presence of fire-cracked rock, often created when the heat from the fires inside the hearths chemically altered and cracked the stone. Often present are fragmented fish and animal bones, carbonized shell, charcoal, ash, and other waste products, all imbedded in a matrix of soil that has been deposited atop the hearth. Unlined hearths, which are less easily identified, may also include these materials. Because of the organic nature of most of these items, they can be used to pinpoint the date the hearth was last used via the process of radiocarbon dating. Although carbon dates can be negatively affected if the prehistoric users of the hearth burned old wood or coal, the process is typically quite reliable."

(burn burn burn...)

its ok its still there i'm pretty sure don't worry

black black black black eyeliner girls always forever.

it was soft. and. warm and. hazy from fairy lights and street lights. i put down three mismatched sofa pillows without waking the others up, curled up under my duvet, closed my sore eyes and went to sleep.

my house would sound like something made up if i tried to write it which i guess we did but before writing it down not during which is definitely the best way.



(kiss kiss bliss blissesplease please please((([ i feel like flies are flying round my eyes and the walls keep shrinking at me]))

tenses

ai ai agh ah ahhh a sudden loneliness, hunger and a longing to speak like i used to we say who are you like you are plural i remember work is to be love made visible something i read a very ever such a long time ago much further down than this where i don't go very often any more everywhere people are making long distance phonecalls back to their sixteen-year-old-ness the gap seems so wide between this and everything else i want to go back to the countryside to go back to find the beginnings of this grieving to places you have to drive to and footbridges over dual carriageways and holding a torch so the bus can see you and sleeping all in one room because we burnt til we fell asleep because we hadn't done this before these were the first times.

we love your glo-in-the-dark oak trees and bloody circuitry

go go go GO: : : : : : : : : : ' *

* + +
* * > *. . ,

*

*

*

: : : : my sister is in india
: : : : : : : these ladies know
: : : can'tcan't wait to climb in these coderidden branches

*
^

(i heart 0's and 1's)

lift to...

go see, gently

i wore my orange dress, the one that means this is really happening

and i had my typewriter and my video camera and my pencil case and i was ready for battle with important things to say and my ground to stand and my self to respect.

i knew what we were playing at. i knew what i was being played as.

and now i am sick

of the "at your age"s and the "what you have to understand here is...".

i am so sick. and so tired of this game we lost so fucking long ago. and i know what i am being played as.

there was a fire burning in the grate while we were talking and i thought the house would turn in against him in anger and burn him up and that he was just some horrible part of the nightmare voices that told me i hadn't done my homework, that tell me to grow up and be sensible; the voices that tell me that despite the orange dress and the tears in my eyes and the hard won honesty and bravery that got me through that door that i am invisible, that when i open my mouth there isn't a sound and that reality won't wake me, any minute, in a world where nothing is that horrible; because as he made clear he is it.

he is real and solid and concrete and powerful and it's me thats the invisible impossible dream.

T H R O U G H T H E L O O K I N G G L A S S : : : : :

alice is sick, maybe dying.
"alice! most precious alice. we have kept her this long and we shall not lose her yet."

+zadie smiths introduction to the new edition+

stars on walls and in glasses

it was my birthday and everything was better and better and better and better right up to the moment i stumbled to bed. and so much was so very and my friends are the most and beyond anything any tiny struggling bedraggled aspiring art girl could dream of. such decadent wonderfulnesses and deep and complicated kindnesses, i'm as lucky as the luckiest waving golden cat, the one that survived all our excesses much as i mourned his wounding and was scared he'd never wave again, as lucky as the snow drops

that
made it all

the way from leamington unwilted

T H A N K Y O U

coming back around

waking up through the sound of stonesaws everyday makes it still pretty cold hard but ever such small tendrils beginning to creep out, not like its really anywhere near spring yet but like, you know, just a couple of snowdrops.

by the time its my birthday there are always one or two snow drops.

i filled up the book I've had for six months and the end was exactly the same as the beginning but this time I can feel it kicking, see it gaining flesh and blood and teeth for fighting. it pinched me really fucking hard for every apology i made for it.


there is weight to all of this as well as that tricksy lightness. these lists are drawings not maybes. this work has a history and a structure in me and i know them well enough to scream for them now and if i don't no one will so what.what.what. am i waiting for?

'tic', go to sleep, 'toc', get up, 'tic'...

'...to have to give up all hope of ever being a famous writer! the sorrow i felt over this, as i daydreamed alone, a little apart from the others, made me suffer so much that in order not to feel it any more, my mind of its own accord, by a sort of inhibition in the face of pain, would stop thinking altogether about poems, novels, a poetic future on which my lack of talent forbade me to depend. then, quite apart from all these literary preoccupations and not connected to them in any way, suddenly a roof, a glimmer of sun on stone, the smell of the road would stop me because of a particular pleasure they gave me, and also because they seemed to be concealing, beyond what i could see, something which they were inviting me to come and take and which despite my best efforts i could not manage to discover.'

remembrance of things past

maybe its all coming soon.

ignorable as

i feel like matilda with the burning behind the eyes. staring at pencils trying to make them move.





move D A M M I T . . .. ... . .. ........ .


this is the start, again. lets catch it by surprise when its not looking, begin without meaning to, by accident.


oh for FUCKS sake