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the woods are lovely, dark and deep

Thursdays child
26 August 1982
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I think I was born like a clock a few seconds behind most people. I haven’t ever found my place or way and feel like I am never quite comfortable or ‘right’.

Once I used to look into the sublime and feel great horror. Nature truly terrifies me but in that same breath it pulls me back with fascination. It’s difficult as a conscious being to believe that we are organic and not immortal. When I think of my life i imagine the nothing before my existence and then try to imagine the nothing that will come after. Sometimes I find myself profoundly troubled that I will enter the abyss and I cannot comprehend that there will not be part of me that won’t transcend it. Mostly though I am comforted that one day I will go back to the earth and be no more.

I was struggling with insomnia and lying in bed with my eyes burning a void into the back of my head. Out of the darkness an intense mental image exploded into my mind. I could see all dieing animals crawling their way towards an amber beacon of light. In the centre of it stood the Virgin Mary, emanating a heavenly all encompassing glow. At her feet lay all that was dead. She was the eternal light of sleep and in it was salvation

There is in life a tentative moment where something has reached fruition and hangs in the balance before descending into rot. i want to capture that moment forever so I can better understand it.

I am exploring Vanitas through art and death in fashion to emphasize the frivolity and transient nature of beauty.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep.”
Robert Frost