Thursday, February 12, 2009

Loren: Casting bones and rattling cages

I'm writing this for the future, which is a little "double, double toil and trouble" like for me.

I think on this day, I will be unpacking my wardrobe and trying to make my new room feel like a refuge. I think I will be trying to figure out how to use the washing machine. I think I will be hoping that Pickles doesn't try to jump from the second storey balcony. I think I will be thankful that there are locks on my bedroom door. I think I will be trying to politely get away from Miss Flawless and her 101 complaints. I think I will be missing the Internet badly. I think I will be writing my fiction stories again. I think I will be choking on the idea that this is my new makeshift family. I think I will wish to be anywhere but here.

I'll let you know if any of those come true when I do manage to get the internet connection.

Harbouring such dreary thoughts will definitely show in my outfit choices. I predict lots of black and grays. A lot of layering and draping. Head covered with hoods. Channelling a pasty faced, ghoulish soothsayer. Slipping from shadow to shadow, muttering curses under my breath, unwashed stringy hair covering my face. Or crouching in a corner, rocking back and forth while I give little half-shrieks of crazed laughter.

Even then, I will not neglect accessorising my outfits. However, what kind of accessories will fit in with the whole, "death-to-me-is-by-being-here" look? One brand came to mind immediately. Disce Mori by Julia deVille.

If anyone understands the need to wear death close to their bosom, this former New Zealander-now-Melbournian does. Well, she probably didn't mean it that way, but from the grey hues of my future predictions, that's how I am choosing to interpret it. I have been an avid admirer of her work since I read a newspaper article on her dating back in 2005, and for those fidgety of heart, rest assured that these animals were long dead (either naturally or by someone else) before Julia transforms them. For someone who likes wearing little cleavers as earrings, wearing a dead bird brooch really isn't a far leap. There is something fragile and delicate about her pieces, despite them basically being dead carcasses. You ponder about life and its forms, am reminded about death "memento mori", and you appreciate life. Through death, you value is simple, and beautiful.

In my situation though, I think wearing the dead bird necklace would be very symbolic.

"My freedom has been shot to hell, so I am wearing this around my neck as a reminder of all that I have lost."

Or perhaps it could be interpreted as.

"I am as dead on the inside, as this bird is, on the outside."

Double, double toil and trouble
    Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
 Cool it with a baboon's blood,
    Then the charm is firm and good. 
- Macbeth, W. Shakespeare

No comments:

Post a Comment