I’m a big fat whore of words.

A prostitute of prose.

*sigh*

I disgust myself at times… Surely if I sell all of my writing then I am not being a true ‘writer’?

I thought all of this to myself very recently and then promptly went cold-turkey and gave up all my freelance writing gigs.

I became very poor.

And sad

And borrrrreeeed.

So out of necessity and need I picked up some new jobs – but this time I was extremely picky about my clientele, and the work that I would do. Call it selective or bitchy, call it whatever you want - I care not! Cos I’m writing again. And it’s fucken unreal!

I used to ‘churn out’ articles and blogs, ending up resenting the work, the client and producing some waffle (albeit still amusing waffle, but waffle all the same).  I hated it.

Now, I’m writing well and getting good cash-olla for it. I took some massive risks and they are paying off. Fucking finally.

I write first thing  in the morning on the train….reminiscent of my own short story The Broady Line – I sit in a corner seat with my moleskin notebook on my lap (thanks Leela) and inhale the fresh smell of morning breath and unwashed youth. Mmmmm…aceness!

Sometime between Broady and Ascot vale I realise that the sun has woken up and I’m two articles down and nearly at my destination. It pays for my train ticket and then some. Hmmm, why the fricken hell hadn’t I evolved before this?

The biggest payoff though is that I am working on my craft again.

Like a demon slut of syntax, a harlot of hellish text.

I am writing.

So, I am HAPPY.

And also a  whore.

Yes, yes I am.

Sorry mum

...and so we begin again

'happy place, happy place'

dreams do come real

I am a writer.

To myself, no less. This is silly I know, in a day and age where an independent woman should be riding high on success and basking in self-esteem if she’s living her dream. But not me.

Soooooo….I have decided to change.

I have decided to start believing the hype…I shall, from here on in, start to think of myself in a different light; maybe in a great big fuck-off spotlight with red and green cello lenses and strobe powers!

No more second guessing for this little black fuck, I’m tired of the sound of my own whining inner voice

That’s all folks!

(www.ashleyweidner.com)

Last night I sat in the audience for ‘You’, a play that a friend of mine, (Ashley Weidner) wrote and performed. The intimate theatre at the acid-dipped eclectium that is the The Butterfly Club in South Melbourne served as a perfect backdrop to the show. Pre dinner drinks procured from a darling retro kitchen and enjoyed surrounded by kitsch ceramic pottery, baby turtles, glazed marble ashtrays and dolls and action figures of every style and era just made the following performance of ‘You’ in the adjoining theatre even more surreal…

The Back Room @ The Butterfly Club

‘You’ is a full-on, raw look at one man’s journey into and through depression. Written by Ashley about his own thoughts, feelings and adventures with the Black Dog of Darkness, watching ‘You’ was a little akin to peeling back his dura mater and taking a look at the pulsing, ebbing mechanics of his brain. Eeew, but cool.

Enhanced by music that Ash and Tobias Wilkins wrote together, I was happily hypnotised and tapping my feet along to ‘You’! The caramelised guitar sounds (Toby) and heavenly cello (Olivia) and violin (Dani) rendered me completely at Ash’s artistic will….I even found myself singing along to ‘Will you hold it while I pee?’ (in hushed out-of-tune voice of course).

I cried a little bit (nobody noticed I hope), laughed a hell of a lot and revisited some dark and dirty memories too. Thanks Ash xox

Last night of the premiere season tonight, get your arses there munchkins, you won’t regret it!

Tix available from The Butterfly Club

So I did.

Yeah man, I am so badarse-hardcore that I even shock myself.

It was professionally and hygenically tattooed by my Tattoo God Rick Almond at Splash of Color Tattoos in Ascot Vale.  It only took about an hour or so for him to do the initial outline and shading – I’ll have to go back for some colourisation soon!

I chose to get it done on Good Friday, when the shop donates ALL their profits to the Royal Children’s Hospital Good Friday Appeal. Bloody Legends!  A friend of mine Amy filmed the tattooing and conducted a pretty funny interview with me prior to the needle onset!  I’m planning to get a bit more footage when its completed and then YouTube my pain for all to see.

It’s my new favourite tattoo.  I LOVE IT!!!!

No going back

Some people think I’m crazy, some think I’m a fool…some just tell me how much they love Dan Brown too….*sigh* But most people are just curious about its meaning and genuinely impressed by its visual appeal. They are my kind of people.

I feel like I have a constant reminder of who I am now. What I’m here to do…

Now just to go do it!

…watermelon insides, flamingoes, vomited cough syrup, cupcakes with icing and sprinkles, baby cheeks, the tops of radishes, embarrassment, shame, foot-high strawberry Swiss mountain malted milkshake, fairy wings, sunsets before a hot day, eerie morning sunrises, fairy floss, dildos made of ribbed rubber, fluffy handcuffs, frilly sheet sets, the lacey crocheted doll that sits on the toilet paper (does she have a name), princesses, jelly, trifle, iced doughnuts, rhubarb, sugar, flashing neon sale signs, cherries, peeling sun burnt skin, grazed knees, raw sausages, roses on teapots, sheepish, feminine, weak, soft, placid, vulnerable, sincere, posies, handkerchiefs with monograms in the corner, coat hangers sold by the country women’s association, flannelette sheets, cancer, girls bits, boobs, nipples, nailpolish, sparkles, butterflies, clean-shaven skin, when you stay in the bath too long, bacon, pigs, gumboots made of plastic, romance…

Logo

Artwork by Rick Almond© Splash of Color Tattoos

http://www.splashofcolortattooing.com/index.htm

I read a funny article the other day. It was entitled ‘Your logo is NOT a tattoo’ and went into the pains of a graphic designer trying to make her customer a groovy logo that could act as ‘skin art’ as well.  The graphic artist was mortified that all of her examples and suggestions were poo-pooed…that was until she realised that her client was looking for a very specific style of artwork (a lot could be said about initial client-provider communication right here…but that’s another issue I guess). Anyways, the designer finally came up with something that the client liked, but in the same breath urged others NOT to approach their own logo like this.  A logo is a professional image that represents your business – not a personal motif.

Hmmm….so logos aren’t tattoos?

I disagree.

By definition a Tattoo is a permanent mark on one’s skin – an artwork that can usually be seen by others and attracts attention. 

A Logo is a permanent (or should be) symbol or icon that represents your business and becomes synonymous with your advertising, marketing, corporate image and sales copy. You want it to be seen by others and attract attention.  Try changing your logo every two weeks and see what sort of image you create…

Why not love your logo so much that you could commit to it as a permanent slogan on your body?

Why not integrate your business with your personal image?

Why not grow massive balls and tell the world this is me and I’m here to stay?

I plan to.

at least I’m scared of them

and if you say I aren’t

I are

jac – Age 4 years 3 months

I found this poem in a family photo album…it was written in my mum’s handwriting and says it’s the work of ‘Jacqueline Age 4 Years 3 months’ (me). There is a little hand drawn picture that I added to the corner – I think it’s supposed to be a person holding a bunch of flowers (my artwork was never as good as my writing).

I was touched that mum kept this early attempt of my playing with words… almost like she knew that it would be a defining part of my personality (we are by rule, not a sentimental family and don’t hold onto EVERYTHING like others do)!

So yeah, it was quite a special thing to find. But what gets me, is that I still like it.  I like it’s rhythm, I like the feeling it gives me, I like the little girl’s attitude that I can hear in the last two lines… And I LOVE that mum had the insight to let my grammar slide and support my artistic licence to experiment with language instead. 

After all… ‘And if you say I’m not, I am’…just doesn’t have the same ring to it.