i was ready to die


‘Working with the British public is particularly hard. They’re very sarcastic. They’re easily bored.’ Photograph: Mike McGregor Mike Mcgregor/PR

Marina Abramovic is a talented artist 🎨 whose work is raw and poignant. If I were an artist I would be like her. Bare and vulnerable. Tough yet fragile. Loud but silent. Serene yet turbulent. You may have heard of her Moma exhibition and her relationship with Ulay. When I first saw him, I thought you idiot. You let a woman like that go?! You fool. I still think it. Why? Well because I am a woman. I know this stuff!

Marina says it so well, she could be speaking for me:

From a very early time, I understood that I only learn from things I don’t like. If you do things you like, you just do the same shit. You always fall in love with the wrong guy. Because there’s no change. It’s so easy to do things you like. But then, the thing is, when you’re afraid of something, face it, go for it. You become a better human being.

What’s the cost?

“Ah, a big one. Lots of loneliness, my dear. If you’re a woman, it’s almost impossible to establish a relationship. You’re too much for everybody. It’s too much. The woman always has to play this role of being fragile and dependent. And if you’re not, they’re fascinated by you, but only for a little while. And then they want to change you and crush you. And then they leave. So, lots of lonely hotel rooms, my dear.”


Ulay and Abramović split up in part because she was moving ahead of him as an artist, something he reflects on rather bitterly in the documentary, saying caustically that she became “very ambitious” after they separated. Of course he’d say that. The ego is a precious thing, both foe and friend.

Yet her words of loving the wrong man rings true. The loneliness is so aptly captured, it hurts. Being too much seems to be a problem. But is it? I’d say no, no, NO. A man who is worth your salt will come to you, will run to you because you are YOU, too much and never enough. Those who run away, well they were never enough for you anyway. If you are too much, well they may just be too little.

Marina’s dream remains. She dreams to have this perfect man, who does not want to change her. She says:

But my dream is to have those Sunday mornings, where you’re eating breakfast and reading newspapers with somebody. I’m so old fashioned in real life, and I’m so not old fashioned in art. But I believe in true love, so perhaps it will happen. Right now, no, I have no space. But life has been good to me. Lots of pain. But it’s OK.


stop all the clocks


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong

The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

By W H Auden

barriers we build

I found this blog only moments ago (https://moodphototeija.wordpress.com) and her photo, the poem and caption, made me wonder.

The photo speaks of a certain vulnerability; a fragile like state of being that is almost impossible to sustain in this crazy world we live in. But I guess it mostly resonates and speaks to me because it’s what I’m thinking of at the moment so naturally the eyes see what the heart ♥ feels.

I am thinking about the barriers we build to protect ourselves, our own vulnerability, which only, in turn, serves to isolate and keep us locked up in our own man-made prison.

Yet, these barriers are there precisely because we have been hurt. They’re not there from birth, we weren’t born with it. No. They’ve been created, built brick by brick, from life and because of life and we have learnt to do this, I’m sad to say, from our fellow humans.

People cross our boundaries every day, in obvious and subtle ways. So the barriers are necessary, a needs must, and a way of self-preservation. They protect us from further harm, further damage to the already weary soul. They guarantee, to a point, that we are somewhat in control of potentially, more pain and heartache. And at times we need to do what we must, and not what we want, in order to survive another day.

I guess all we can possibly do as fallible humans, is hope that when the time comes to let these walls down (because that time WILL surely come this I know, don’t ask me how), that we know we can; and that we feel brave, and ready enough to do so with the ones who have always been waiting to Love us.

Here is what moodphototeija says in her blog:

Somehow I have lost the ability to tell how I feel, not in photography so much but otherwise… Too afraid to reveal my inner thoughts. Always bit afraid what others might think. Would they use something against me? Or would they like me less? And would it matter if they did? I have been too trustful too many times, for example to people who has been acting like my friends. And then they are just been using me for something, their own personal needs. It is hard pick up the pieces…but that`s what we do. Someone breaks our heart, and we still keep going. But sometimes we start to build up a wall around us, wanting to be out of reach of anyone to break us again. And then we are keeping the good people away from us too. The people who would be honest and caring.

“Well I’ve got a thick skin and an elastic heart
But your blade it might be too sharp
I’m like a rubber band until you pull too hard
But I may snap when I move close
But you won’t see me fall apart
Cause I’ve got an elastic heart
I’ve got an elastic heart
Yeah, I’ve got an elastic heart” – lyrics by Sia, Elastic Heart

You lost me.