I'm late!

I don't really know why it's been so difficult for me to write lately. There have been multiple drafts and countless thoughts but apparently none have been good enough to finish and publish. It's the ongoing battle I seem to have with motivation, inspiration and harsh self-criticism. Being a perfectionist is a pain in the ass.

My intention to 'just do it' hasn't exactly taken off. Well, it did. And then it slowed down and stopped, mid-air, and is in the fast and dramatic process of crashing and burning. My inclination to 'just do it...really really fucking, ridiculously, awesome' has overridden all other philosophies.

I've found both solace and slight depression in speaking to other creative types. It seems as though the people I know are equal parts industrious and confused. I feel I sit somewhere in the middle and have been sitting there for quite some time. My ass is fast becoming deeply imprinted in this writer's block rut. It's infuriating.

Today* I attempted a spring clean. It was incredibly superficial but somewhat effective. I did not dare touch my wardrobe - fuck knows what disasters lie in there - that would require and entire weekend and a lot of discipline and strength. All of which, today, I did not have. Instead, I stripped my walls and cleared out my work desk. A good purge works wonders. Not that I really threw anything out. Just stored away in a box. Out of sight, out of mind.

I feel I have this fear of looking at things in all their excessive, disgusting glory. Facing the situation as it actually is and dealing with it, cleaning it all up, once and for all. I fear the length and depth of that task. Knowing that I would not be able to sleep or eat or do anything other than completely immerse myself in the mess until it was all packed away, shipped off, thrown out. And all I had left, at the end of the day, was the perfect situation.

This is not just about having too many clothes or shoes or books. Obviously. I disguise my oversentimentality with a 'fear of commitment'. Piling more new stuff on tope of old, unwanted stuff, in the hopes that forgetting about them or ignoring them will compensate for not actually getting rid of them. Fucked. Totally fucked up.

What actually eventuates is that everything always remains where it always was.

*By today, I actually mean October 28 2012. In my attempt to find material to just post up because I've been such a slack ass bitch, I went through all my handwritten notes looking for gems to string together or comment on. Which is when I found this, and realised it didn't sound half bad. True to form, it was unfinished in ink. I cleaned my room two weeks ago. It's still relatively intact.

K.x

Vignetting Vic Exhibition

I am, by no means, a bonafide photographer. I can, however, take a good shot or two and have been using film cameras for the last year or so. So far, Lomography cameras have been my weapon of choice, because they're easily attainable, simple to use and oh so freaking cute. I was lucky enough to have a photo of mine selected recently for a Lomo Australia exhibition, which focussed on images of the great state of Victoria and is currently running at the No Vacancy Project Space at Federation Square. 

My baby, Pins

I, of course, had to attend the opening party last night, which featured a lot (and I mean A LOT) of cool customers, bevs and really really impressive images (all within a really really tiny space). Despite mutterings of 'hipsters', 'shit cameras and shit photos', it was an overall fun vibe, with flashes going off and polaroids being given away. No doubt these 'other' people needed to loosen the buttons on their work shirt, be grateful for the free booze and shut the fuck up.

Me and my baby

I haven't shot a roll of film for a minute but am missing the process of shooting, forgetting, remembering, developing and being pleasantly surprised. For an anxious person, film photography can be like yoga or tai chi or Xanax. It's therapeutic and forces you to practice patience and consideration. And the appreciation of that awesome shot that turns out unexpectedly - or the ability to accept all the failed attempts despite your best efforts and intentions - really is the ultimate payoff. Inadvertantly, it becomes something that brings you peace, relaxation, learning curves and excitement. 

Scoff if you like, it sounds wanky, I know. But it doesn't have to be film photography. Maybe your thing is pottery. Maybe it's cycling. Maybe it's customising high-heeled hooker boots. Fuck, who cares. There's always that thing that allows you to escape, explore and create. This is mine.

If you're in this wonderful city, definitely take a minute to check out the space. Check out the venue and exhibition info after the jump.

K.x

Spring is in!

I don't like letting boys or weather toy with my emotions but I can't help it. It continues to happen and while I try my best to avoid matching my mood to the darkness of the clouds in the sky, I am not immune to the winter blues. I was born on a tropical island and brought up on the west coast of Australia - I was built for sunshine. And thank fuck it's finally Spring. Not that it matters between today and yesterday, as the weather was pretty much the same. And I'm sure within a week there will be a miserable day thrown in, because it's Melbourne and she's a fucking psycho.

Nonetheless, it is 'officially' Spring and I am geed. The promise of sunny summertime adventures is just around the corner and it is going to be glorious. In the meantime, I will work on my tan (and booty) during Spring when I can and eagerly await the days when the median temperature is 30 degrees. 

This summer will feature a lot of love, laughter and midriff. I can't fucking wait.

K.x

One year on...

12 months ago, I put my life in a bag and jetted across the country to start afresh. I had no real idea what I was doing and whether I could hack it. I was scared shitless and felt totally out of my depth. But I was desperate for a new environment and new opportunities. I needed to build my life.


It feels like just yesterday. It feels like a million years ago. Today I sit here, in the place I can honestly call home, and feel happy. Possibly happier than I have ever felt in my life. 


I don't have much extra coin at the end of each week, I don't have a fancy office, my masters degree is incomplete and I still eat Mi Goreng at least once a week. The things that make me happy are mostly intangible. Except for the wonderful people who have found their way into my life, whom I hug (or at least fist bump) often. 


But what makes me happiest is that this is just the beginning. The foundation has been laid. And it's pretty fucking solid.


Thank you, Melbourne. You made me brand new.


K.x 

Day Four/Day Five: The delayed reaction

So Buy Nothing New Month is fast becoming Buy Nothing At All Month. Which, according to my mother, is probably more of what I should do.

Yeah, whatever Mum. (I love you, of course).

To save my sanity, I have altogether avoided my usual retailers. I know I am a big fat cheater and as weak as piss when it comes to shopping, so I have used the opportunity to focus on work and uni and writing and friends. These things probably shouldn't give way for shopping, normally, but it has become a handy distraction. And anyone who has known me for five minutes knows I am also the biggest procrastinator in the world. Wow, I'm sounding like a really shit person right now. Dah well.

ANYWAY, what I am finding is that because I know I am not buying new items, I have that little bit extra change, which means I have pretty much been stuffing my face at any opportunity given. No time for breakfast in the morning? No worries! I'll buy a coffee and a big ass bagel on the way in! Grocery shopping? No worries! No Homebrand shit for me this month!

I obviously have an issue holding onto money. Dah well. I've still not bought anything new.

K.x

C U N T

Still kickin'. Keepin' it crass and sass, while maintaining a fine ass.

Especially for one Miss Markoff.

K.x

An excerpt from...

THE SECRET GARDEN

"Haven't you ever dressed yourself?"
"Of course not!"

So I took a step back into my childhood recently and watched The Secret Garden on tv. I remember hating Mary for being such a spoilt brat but being oh-so-jealous that she was allowed to run around that enormous house. I wanted my own secret passageways, ivory elephants and ornate keys. Such fantasies.

Watching it in my 25-year-old being, I felt nostalgic. I still loved the movie for the same reasons I did when I was 7. Only this time I appreciated other subtle cues and details. Some things are better the second time around.

"I hate the way you talk about dying."

"Everyone thinks I'm going to die."
"If everyone thought that about me, I still wouldn't do it."

K. x

Today was a good day.

Banksy, of course.

Work was bearable.
kcwonder.com went live.
My Melbourne move was confirmed.

It's a little overwhelming to think that shit is actually happening in my life, but I am damn sure I have procrastinated enough and now is the time to act. Despite knowing all that I am leaving behind (namely my loved ones), I'm motivated by the endless possibilities that lie ahead and the knowledge of what I wish not to become - content in a mediocre existence.

I won't deny that I am fucking terrified at the prospect of having to build a life from scratch in a place where I know nobody. But I think that fear is what forces ordinary people to do extraordinary things. Drags you out of your tiny box and shoves you into an environment where only the fittest survive.

I don't know how successful I'll be, if the dark moments will supersede the light, if I will throw my hands in the air and concede defeat...maybe. Hopefully not.

What I do know is that I'm gonna be working my fucking ass off making sure I prove myself to myself. And to all the small town folk who are hoping I fail? Fuck you. You'll see me.

K. x

Lately...

my mind has been occupied by..

Brazil and men's underwear
flights of fancy, to Sydney and beyond
bills of all sorts
where the hell the sun went
when my next pint will be
sacrificing my weekends for work

..hence the momentary silence on the blog front.

Again, just a little reminder that I remain a-kickin'...also that I continue to procrastinate from the lame-ass report I'm supposed to be dedicating my braincells to. Despite the subject matter being marketing designer men's underwear to Brazilian consumers, I'm finding the whole thing rather tedious and would much rather be pursuing other (more satisfying) pastimes on this Saturday evening.

Dah well. No pain, no gain. And I will DEFINITELY reward myself once this shit is done.

Hi ho, back to work I go :(

K. x

The res-erection.

Ha.

So it's been over six months. Literally. Shame on me. So I thought it was only right, with the five minutes I have before I jet off to work, to share a little something.

With my dire financial status over the last holiday season I've become a whore for the chain store and am now a master of finding dime-piece outfits at dime-store prices.

Two of my faves are as follows.

Playsuit, Forever New, $29.95
AM1s, Nike, $150 (Ok, so more of an investment than a steal but whatever.)

Tank, Sportsgirl, $20.95
Bracelets, Diva, $5.00
Earrings, Diva, $12.95

I'll be back. I promise.

K. x

Traps.

We avoid them. We set them. We fall into them. It's life, I get it. We're humans, it's what we do. But shit, I hate feeling cornered. Duped. Obligated. There's something obviously demeaning about knowing you've effectively become someone's bitch, in whatever capacity.

The greatest source of emoness, in my opinion, is setting oneself up. And it happens. Over and over and over again. We find ourselves in the same situations, we know how the story ends (and it's never pretty). Yet we continue to blunder through them. Sometimes with false hope, like, "Oh, I know how this shit'll go down. I'm prepared." Yeah, right. We can't expect for the outcome to be different if we don't approach things in a totally different way - mentally, emotionally, physically.

We all have our vices - material, emotional, whatever. Things we can never seem to give up but that always always always catch us out. Possibly putting a momentary grin on our faces but eventually leaving us out in the cold.

And when I say 'we', I obviously mean me. Stupid stupid girl.

Traps are all well and good. We make mistakes, trudge through mud, but hopefully learn along the way how not to get stuck again. Traps are inevitable. But they don't always have to hurt.

Tread carefully.

K. x

Tick tock...

In 14 days I turn 23.

Yeee-ikes.

That is all.

K. x

Mic check...1,2

So it's taken a minute for me to join the other cool kids in the blogosphere, but I'm here. And, to be quite honest, I don't know whether this will fall off like a lot of my other grand schemes - fashion design, painting, llama-breeding - but shit, I'll give it a shot. I figure, as long as I'm spending half my life in front of this computer and continue to be obsessed with sneakers, hip-hop, general coolness AND maintain the ability to string a few words together, why not indulge my inner-narcissist. Lord knows she's been ignored for long enough.

And yes, this particular post holds nothing of actual substance, but it's the first one. And like many a first time, it's not amazing; there's still a lot to learn; but damn, it still feels pretty special.

My personal suggestion is to enjoy it while it lasts, but while my mind remains firmly fixed by this particular notion, I will continue to bring you Kicks and Pieces.

K. x

PS..The mug-shot is of my current favoured children...Married To The Mob X Nike dunks...Pretty girls.