Weighty Issues…

Posted on July 6, 2011 by Twist

So I’m currently weighing in at 78kg (173lbs apparently) which isn’t huge on my frame, but is annoying as it’s the point where my clothes start to get tight. Which is how I knew I had to weigh myself in the first place…

So, in order to gain a little motivation I followed a few fitness tumblr’s. Promptly un-followed anything that was pro-thin or pro-anorexia. I want healthy not skinny thank you very much, and then sat back and thought a lot.

Out of curiosity I followed a few links to here that tells me I have a ‘large frame’ body type (NO SHIT I’m 5’10″ and have shoulders that are sexy in their broadness) and here that tells me my ideal body weight is between 68 and 78kg (152 – 173lbs) which is no surprise. Due to the way I put on muscle I tend to sit at around 73kg unless I want to starve myself. I almost followed the link to the calorie calculator thing, but those mean shit to me because I’m way to lazy to bother with them.

The point. No news there. At all.

Which is nice, I know what I’m at and I know where I should be. I also know I can get where I should be as current weight is the result of a 4 month binge on junk food, caffeine and take out for a variety of reasons. Plus my exercise levels dropping because I’m back working full time behind a desk.

So I have two weeks until Yoga starts up. In the meantime I’ve started trying to get in the habit of doing a small amount of push ups and sit ups every morning and night. (due to prior injuries I’m increasing the count VERY slowly and carefully). I’m also looking at what I can eat that isn’t 5 minute pasta dishes, but not hour long cooking because I AM lazy.

I also do NOT diet. Ever. I eat healthy, but if I want a fucking mars bar I will have it when I want it without ever feeling guilty *nods*

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Home

Posted on March 4, 2011 by Twist

I’m back in Melbourne and busy as they come.

Not dead though and updates will start happening here again soon.

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Personal Style

Posted on February 17, 2011 by Twist

The very darling Hippie Rock and Whiskey Rebel posted about her frustrations with style over here. My reply to her was getting excessively long and I decided to move it over to my own space, so if you’re not into reading about my style and thoughts on fashion then this is the time to go.

So there were her questions: What are some of your wardrobe goals? Is there anything that you used to wear that you grew out of? Has your style changed completely since high school?

So starting with high school: My taste in clothes hasn’t changed too much, but my environment has. I lived in North Queensland growing up, which meant shorts and t-shirts were the only options 90% of the year. I was also very self-conscious regarding my rather large breasts so I tended to go for over sized tops above all else. Even back then however black was the mainstay of my wardrobe. My pale skin and red hair look flash in black, and I had the beginnings of a fascination with goth, so I went with it. I moved to Melbourne in my last year and goth fashion, including all the lace and velvet I could find, was on the cards.

Its been ten years since high school (fucking hell, I’m OLD) and I still wear pretty much all black. I’m getting bored with it truth be told. I’m living in Melbourne so warmer clothes are required most the year, and I grew out of the lace and velvet stage.

So lets talk about now.

I’m an artist. This means I get dirty, play with solvents and weird shit like bone, and frequently wipe paint off my hands onto the ass of my pants… my clothes take a LOT of abuse. So my day wear reflects that. I wear jeans and simple tank singlets from Target. Target’s singlets aren’t fancy but they’re long enough to cover my stomach. Also rather cleavage revealing. Which works for me. I’m not so self-conscious any more. I wear Doc’s most the time… if you drop down to this post you can see my fav pair in the first photo.

My going out clothes aren’t much fancier.

I take my queues from punk, goth and rock/rock-a-billy. Sometimes girly, sometimes trashy, occasionally classy but always comfortable. I have a GOOD heavy Brando style leather jacket. I have a thing for nice batwing tops I make myself from t-shirt material. They’re soft, pretty, go well with jeans and skirts, and can be dressed up or down easily. I avoid fitted button downs at all cost as they emphasis my breasts a little too much and feel stuffy, but I will wear over sized shirts with vests done up over them to cinch the waist. I’ll often be seen in floaty skirts, sandals and singlets in summer as temperatures tend to soar here. I tend to keep my legs covered (mostly because I’m too lazy to shave but don’t like having hairy legs).

I believe that the difference between being a lady and being just another girl is knowing what not to show. Backless tops/dresses rock, short dresses/skirts rock, and cleavage revealing clothes rock! but only one element at a time. If you’re shoring all that leg don’t distract from it with your boobs. If you’ve got the girls out then balance it out with a knee length skirt or jeans. Backless is timelessly classic, it needs nothing else to be incredibly sexy but a nice pair of shoes (and pants if its just a top).

And hell yeah, I break those rules of style. But I do it knowingly, not because some book or fashion mag is saying I should. I like tarting it up from time to time and rocking out in a mini skirt and low cut singlet or t-shirt. Its fun. But its not everyday. In fact its almost never day.

I’m tattoed, pierced, mohwak rocking and a little strange, but you get the idea. As for what I want in my clothes: Some better quality pieces, some nice boots for winter, a good quality coat that I won’t need to replace next season, some more colour.

So what’s rocking my world at the moment?

*Zoetica Ebb: Self made woman. Amazing style, amazingly ballsy woman and artist.

Zoetica

*Morbid Fashions tumblr

*Skulls and chains – always and forever.

*The art of Ben Templesmith, Vaughn O’shay, and Creature13 (to name a few)

Ben Templesmith - Octopus girls FTW

Vaughn O'Shay - Sexy rockers

Creature13 - Boys and girls and just *Drool*

I take a huge amount of my fashion influence from artists and art rather than fashion shows and magazines.

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Something about… Domestic abuse series

Posted on February 15, 2011 by Twist

I’ve started working on a short series on domestic abuse. These are the first two pieces, still a little rough, but I find I sometimes have to pull things apart a few times before I get what I want and as I’m using these as uni submissions that’s not an option right now.

Something about playing dress up

Something about killing spiders

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A Post About Fear

Posted on February 13, 2011 by Twist

This post is an amazing post about fear.

I want to travel. Want to travel so desperately, but when traveling through Europe early this year I came to the realisation that I wasn’t a very good traveler. See I get panic attacks, really bad ones, which makes traveling an incredibly stressful thing for me to do. I don’t cope and I ended up not enjoying a vast amount of my time abroad.

And its totally out of my control.

But I want to travel…

So I better figure the hell out how to get it under control, because I will not go my entire life without ever seeing the sun set over the Ganges in India.

I want to go THERE

This also raises other things. Who to travel with, who not to, do I want to travel alone and where else do I want to go, how long for?

There’s a lot of fear for me, when it comes to travel, that I have to work through… and yet its something I really balk at dealing with.

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The Quiet Hour

Posted on February 11, 2011 by Twist

Nix glanced at his watch. Nine o’clock in the evening, he was early. He smiled slightly, he liked the quiet hour he got when he was early. He slipped quickly through the alleys and lanes that led to the bar called Alice, where he worked. No one bothered him for all his defined features and expensive shirts. He’d been working at Alice for far too many years for people not to know better. He hastened his step a little down the final, narrow, alley. It reeked of a fresher something dead than usual despite the light drizzle of rain and cool air.

At the end the alley opened into an odd circular alcove with a huge and ancient tree in the centre. Its branches, twisted and bent, were adorned with fairy lights, hanging lanterns and an odd assortment of fetishes and charms. Often there were offerings of food, drink, trinkets and slaughtered animals at its base, though the rain had apparently seen to it that the tree got none that night. Nix paused briefly and dug into his pockets to see if he had any change. He found a few coins and left them at the trees base. It had become habit for him to do so when no one had left an offering. Though he always wondered why later.

Around the far side of the tree was a spot where the roots and ground opened up, giving way to a massive hole. The locals referred to it as the rabbit hole. Having seen what came out of it Nix had decided that rabbit was not entirely appropriate and had dubbed it the giant killer bunny hole whilst somewhat intoxicated one night. The hole, regardless of what it was and where it lead, was the reason for the bar’s name. The hole that Alice fell down whilst following the white rabbit… the hole the over grown white killer bunny dragged screaming Alice down may have been more appropriate.

He opened the china blue door to the bar and slipped quietly down the narrow winding staircase in the dark.

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Radical Self Love Means…

Posted on February 9, 2011 by Twist

Radical Self Love…

The term really, honestly, makes me cringe and giggle. I can’t help it. Its an in built response to anything like it. I think a side effect of over a decade of Paganism has killed my ability to take such a term anymore seriously than things like ‘goddess empowerment’. Which is to say not at all. However the message behind it, from the ever adorable and inspiring Gala Darling, is incredibly thoughtful. A blend of self empowerment, confidence boosting, self love inspiration, and self esteem assistance aimed at women between their mid-teens and late-twenties. Charmingly delivered by Gala.

I’m not inclined towards this sort of thing as a rule, but curiosity got the better of me and I bought and read through the first chapter of her book, got her onto my RSS feed and from there decided to attend her first workshop. I have to admit that I’m rather taken by her and what she has to say. She makes sense, she definitely has some great ideas, she practices what she preaches and what she offers fits into my life at the moment very neatly.

So with that in mind, and having joined in on the fun that is the growing, very supportive, RSL community. I’m not entirely sure I fit in with her normal followers so well style wise but its hard to not find common ground with this group of women. And I s’pose I should put up my first ‘homework assignment” having admitted all that.

Homework 1 – What does Radical Self Love mean to you?

Ignoring the part where the term alternately makes my giggle and cringe.

RSL means being all you can be.

It means looking after yourself, paying attention to your physical, mental and spiritual needs. It means doing what needs to be done when it needs to be done, without feeling the need to make excuses or procrastinating out of fear. It means not beating yourself up constantly. It means living your life to the fullest and chasing your dreams, in your own time and on your own terms.

It means To Stand.

Taken October 2010 - This is me in all my stompy boot, messy haired, midnight study session glory.

To Stand is something that’s kind of become a goal for me. Simply to be able to stand firmly and surely. I’ve spent a lot of the past 2 years feeling very shaken and unsteady thanks to some pretty major upheavals, so I think this is a good over reaching goal.I plan on standing very firmly on this earth in those there awesome Doc Martin boots of mine, cause they’re awesome and stompy. Stompy boots make the world go round… especially combined with thigh high black socks and my favorite black shorts and singlet in summer.

1-1-2011: Oh man I needed some sleep.

My motto for the year is take no prisoners. I mean it. None, zip, zilch. I have work to do and I will be doing and anyone who gets in the way is gone.

The tattoo on my arm in this photo has a couple of meanings, the most commonly talked about one is family. The koi joker is me, eldest child and lover of the water and its occupants, the Ace of hearts is my middle brother Ace who really is all heart, and the skull joker card belongs to me youngest brother who I finally found common ground with in our love of death metal, goth motifs and dead things. The second meaning is in what the symbols represent on a spiritual level:

  • Koi – water, emotions, go with the flow
  • Heart – love, passion, following my heart
  • Skull: transformation, the change from one state to the other which is ultimately what death is about (Also pirates but shhh, I didn’t admit that)

So that’s it for this post. That’s what RSL stands for to me, and a little bit more about my thought’s on Gala and a little something about me as well.

~ Charlie

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Inspiration and February

Posted on February 5, 2011 by Twist

The artist: Mid-December 2010

Its February. I’m about to turn 27.  I’m changing.

I had a conversation today that really, finally, summed up for me how much I’m changing. How far I’ve already come already and, for me, cemented the fact that there is a long, long, way to go. That’s not necessarily a bad thing though.

This week, with all its reading, creating, conversing and thinking, has been a leveller. I find myself reconnected with my best friend, and perhaps a little amused by how we each view the others life. I find myself content if a little bit flaked out and behind schedule in my creative endeavours. I have read many wonderful articles on many different topics and taken away from them valuable insight into myself and the world around me. Mostly I have been thinking though.

I have thought about what was a lot. How the past has shaped me and how I have used it as an excuse. I have thought about the events that have lead to issues, the relationships I didn’t need, the ones I squandered needlessly, I’ve thought about regrets and hopes, and stupid things I’ve done. About great people I knew, and the not so great.

I have spent time on what is. Where I’m at right this instant with my life, my hopes, my dreams, my faith, my friends… with everything, and there will be a LONG post on this at some point no doubt just before I leave for my new home in two weeks.

And I’ve thought about what I want. Where I want to be in a few years, and how to make that happen. There is, somewhere, a quote about going to it with everything or not bothering. Go big or get out basically. I know I can’t do that. I know my fears cripple me, and I know why. So as I fix the parts of me that are affected by the events of the past too much I start small. I pull the little things into line steadily and surely and calmly.

For this weekend that means sorting, trashing and cleaning. I’m sorting through my head and belongings at the same time. I’m trashing some things I no longer need both mentally and physically. I’m cleaning up both me and my space… Well, realistically I’m packing up my space. Into boxes for the impending move, but same deal. Its about getting myself under control in the now so I can move towards the future.

One day at a time. One baby step at a time.

It is February 2011 where I will turn 27, move across the country, take a huge gamble on a person and trust that I can make things work exactly as they need to.

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Tobacco and Cotton Candy

Posted on January 27, 2011 by Twist

Need a distraction from uni stuff. Have a couple more Dead Boys.

Slim had the most delicate hands Sev had ever seen.

Birdlike.

He’d marveled in that as he’d cleaned the deep gash on his arm. His initial impression had been one of an anorexic, but that wasn’t right. He was healthy, muscular even, just so very, very gaunt. Razor thin, he’d later describe him as. Sev had continued to study him, moving to his face, as he worked. High cheek bones and a long, thin nose with a septum and bridge piercing and clear gray eyes. His skin was pristine lily white and that mouth… goddamn it just begged to be kissed.

He’d given into that temptation sometime after. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. He never could recall, he just remembered that he’d tasted of tobacco and cotton candy.


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London’s Vice

Posted on January 25, 2011 by Twist

Tooth is fucking broken. AGAIN.

“All he will say is that he wants Erin. I don’t know who Erin is and…” Juk pauses his pacing to listen to Sara. “Oh, him. OK, I’ll tell him. Call me back straight away?” Juk stands quietly for a few moments trying to process this. The day had been insane already and now he finds that Erin is the practically mythical Dead Boy Vice. In the end he just heads inside to tell London that Sara was trying to track the huge Irishman down.

Vice listened to Sara pensively. It had been a long time since he’d seen London, but he’d promised, that last time, that he’d be there should he ever be needed. Now he was needed. He shuffled some papers and located a pen whilst Sara spoke, finally cutting through her vague rambling. “Address.” It was not a question. He tore out of the yard on his Harley minutes later.

London didn’t even look up when the Irishman entered the room. He stripped leather gloves off of work worn hands as he crossed the room, barely pausing to nod a hello to Juk. Juk gave the huge man a firm nod in reply, marveling in the sheer size of him, at 6’2″ he wasn’t that tall but he was intimidating with those powerful shoulder’s and solid build. Juk never wanted to get into another fight with him that was for sure. Vice knelt in front of London placing one large hand on his thigh and, without looking up, London’s arms found their way around his neck. He gently carded the fingers of his other hand through his loose green hair.

“London, love, ye be ok?” He asked, voice low and gentle.

“Not really. I will be. I… I shouldn’t have asked for you. S-Sorry.” He shuddered, trying not to cling despite every instinct telling him to. He shouldn’t have asked Erin to come.

“It be all right, love. It be all right. Last time we met I did tell you if you be needin’ me…” London nodded weakly. He had, and he’d kept that promise. Perhaps that was what hurt the most. He’d kept his word.

“You can’t stay.” It was blunt, it hurt, but he knew it was true. He couldn’t stay. Not with him.

“Nae, I cannae. I be expected back at work. I can spare a few minutes more though.” He rubbed the back of London’s neck gently. Staying silent to just giving him time to breath and calm himself. He could see bruises on his arms. Whoever had roughed him up had done a job on him. He knew he needed to get back though. “Ye should call me later.” He broke the silence. “T’night, afore you sleep, aye?”

“I-I guess.” He whispered in response. “If it won’t be trouble to you, or your partner, or anything like that.”

Vice shook his head and laughed softly. “Love, ye still be a wee bit slow on the uptake, aye?” London’s confused blue eyes raised to meet Vice’s calm paler blue ones. “Call me later, we shall talk.” He kissed London’s forehead gently and disentangled himself from his arms. “Ye’ll be all right for now?” London nodded in reply and, with a last touch to his hair, Vice departed.

It would have been no less than half an hour later that it dawned on London, with the rest of the family mid-conversation, what it was Vice meant. He broke in suddenly, mildly panicking.

“For the love of gods someone get me some fucking vodka NOW!”

Tooth doesn’t hurt despite the big hole and lunch with my father wasn’t end of the world material so life goes on.

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