Please Stay in the Picture Frame

Lovecats Dance, Boots Prance.

See the boots. I want these boots, in all their fiendish glory. Aren't they just darling? They most certainly are. I realised a new problem today when I was shopping in town with mother. That problem is this one: "Lief can not shop properly unless online".

So, it seems I am overwhelmed by the racks and racks of clothing mixed with the store decor that I just cannot see anything that singularly jumps out at me; it all melds together to form a mass of random.

Online/TV shopping is so much easier than window-shopping. I might see these brillig booties in a shop window and NOT EVEN REALISE THEIR AWESOMENESS. All because of my shopping anxiety issue. Lame, eh?

I think I will buy these boots, as they are my size and I only bought one pair of shoes tonight and those were "for work" and all.

I think I should introduce myself. I'm not really called Lief, (Ly-eff) but that name is of a more "adventure novel" nature than my own unfortunate title. So it shall do.

I'm falling asleep. I'll finish some other time, kids.

Lief does sleep. But her dreams are full of whim.

As I Sit, Typing

In my head, I see scenes.
These are the scenes in my movie.
Sometimes they are flashbacks with my after-thoughts as a voice over, other times they are live, happening right then and there except without the dialogue, without the voices, with just the facial expressions, the subtleties like body language, fidgeting... to explain everything.

I wish I knew how to explain everything. I don't think I can explain even the most basic things lately. I don't know how to explain how I feel because my mind seems to have recently climbed up the faraway tree and into the land of topsy-turvy.

Nothing makes sense for long enough. I think I have two minds in one place. Sometimes it's a good thing, I can understand some things instantly, but other times it's impossible and chaotic. Like two people working at the same desk, papers becoming confused and documentation being shredded by mistake whilst trivial things like shopping dockets are being filed away in my memory.

When I wake, I wake by the brook

I bought film yesterday, put it in the Minolta SRT 101, then I went outside. I saw my cats by the flowers and noticed the feel of the breeze in my hair, the sun on my skin. Everything was golden and ethereal. I walked along the path and down the stone steps, feeling as though I was walking on a cloud. Or floating.

I walked through Bunya and photographed the time, that moment. I felt like I was documenting history through a lens of beauty before taking away the filter of the camera lens and realising that the beauty was ever-existing. I was the lens, it was my state of mind that made things appear beautiful.

Or rather, the pure outlook, without the clutter of depression. I don't know what it was, maybe a combination of things, all chance, all part of the butterfly effect, but whatever it was, yesterday I felt warm, happy, beautiful and natural. Nothing mattered because life was art.
On another, note, yesterday evening I lay on my floor in my bedchamber and it occured to me that I had to make a movie or else deny my love.

I want dreamy, photogenic, film-ish, artistic friends.
Yoga and kite-flying friends.
The kind who take photographs of life.
The kind who live life like a movie.
We could go to yoga classes and drink tea and eat dainty macaroons in quaint little teashops.
We would spend afternoons laying on the trampoline talking forever about our hopes and dreams and great plans.
We would go to an enormous library with dusty old books and would explore mysterious towns and get lost in strange neighbourhoods and go rummaging through flea-markets together.

I miss having a friend. I don't know what happened or why I'm so lonesome.

Did everyone grow up? People seem to be moving faster. Every time I close my eyes, for a moment, I open them to find a different time of day, or on more worrying occasions, a different day altogether. Every time I catch up with someone they have progressed in life, become more successful... I am stagnant. People are getting serious jobs, looking at real estate, buying shares, whilst I am still hanging out in record shops and reading online blogs.

Where are all the dreamers in my town?











The following pictures, I did not take. But they inspire me, incredibly.

A thousand kisses deep

I'm good at love, I'm good at hate; it's inbetween I freeze.

My mother thinks I've lost the plot. I sometimes wonder if I have.

This boy from work seems to really like me. He's so nice, too. And he's attractive.

From what I've read in stories and seen in movies, this is supposed to be a perfect scenario. We would then "date" one another until the day we marry. And then we live in our little house with a white-picket fence and have two perfect children. I would bake cookies and throw dinner-parties. We would have a vegetable garden.

I don't understand how this is ever enough.

"Date him." say the girls from work who also know him. "He's a really nice guy and he likes you so much."

He doesn't know me. I don't understand people who like people they don't know. I just feel so conscious and separated from it all. I don't know why people persue relationships. How can they search so hard to find something they can't live without? Isn't it simpler if you don't?