February 2011
38 posts
satan is waitin’ within us all
what disarms you?
really bright light blue eyes, every time.
STEPPING OUT
THE AUSTRALIAN BALLET IN 2011
“A world-class ensemble, assured and brilliantly versatile” The Age
In 2011, The Australian Ballet presents modern classics, timeless tales and bold new ballet in the lead up to its 50th birthday. Highlights of the season include Madame Butterfly, a bittersweet tale of passion and promises from renowned Australian choreographer Stanton Welch plus the very special British Liaisons featuring works from three of Britain’s most celebrated choreographers. There’s also the return of The Merry Widow, one of the most popular works in The Australian Ballet’s repertoire and the world premiere of Romeo and Juliet from choreographic legend Graeme Murphy. All performances are accompanied by the Australian Opera and Ballet Orchestra.
so i just finished work, which is becoming an ever-dwindling source of money - a small worry as expenses begin to tap their acrylic nails impatiently. i’m sitting here with the doors wide open, listening to the big ships load their coal and the late-night drinkers murmuring and occasionally clanking their glasses on the wooden tables down at the hotel. i can hear the big ben intown hitting 10 notes and i’m yawning. sleeping with the blanket on was nice last night. goodnight.
when people screech hysterically the word ‘SHUSH!’ at the top of their lungs
when you see the ones who once sent hard tremors through your sanity, made you yelp cheerily with euphoria and giddiness, and weep slowly with desire and longing - and surprisingly, your mind is just a white wall, the feelings are absent, your heart shrugs and stares blankly back at you. a smile and a quarter-hearted conversation usually follows, you turn your head, you think about tomorrow’s weather.
“Your life is not an episode of Skins. Things will never look quite as good as they do in a faded, sun - drenched Polaroid; your days are not an editorial from Lula. Your life is not a Sofia Coppola movie, or a Chuck Palahniuk novel, or a Charles Bukowski poem. Grace Coddington isn’t your creative director. Bon Iver and Joy Division don’t play softly in the background at appropriate moments. Your hysterical teenage diary isn’t a work of art. Your room probably isn’t Selby material. Your life isn’t a Tumblr screencap. Every word that comes out of your mouth will not be beautiful and poignant, infinitely quotable.
Your pain will not be pretty. Crying till you vomit is always shit.
You cannot romanticize hurt.
Or sadness.
Or loneliness.
You will have homework, and hangovers and bad hair days. The train being late won’t lead to any fateful encounters, it will make you late. Sometimes your work will suck. Sometimes you will suck. Far too often, everything will suck - and not in a Wes Anderson kind of way.
And there is no divine consolation - only the knowledge that we will hopefully experience the full spectrum - and that sometimes, just sometimes, life will feel like a Coppola film.” —(via incandescentadolescence)(via antipodeans, tothemoonandbackagain)
Your pain will not be pretty. Crying till you vomit is always shit.
You cannot romanticize hurt.
Or sadness.
Or loneliness.
You will have homework, and hangovers and bad hair days. The train being late won’t lead to any fateful encounters, it will make you late. Sometimes your work will suck. Sometimes you will suck. Far too often, everything will suck - and not in a Wes Anderson kind of way.
And there is no divine consolation - only the knowledge that we will hopefully experience the full spectrum - and that sometimes, just sometimes, life will feel like a Coppola film.” —(via incandescentadolescence)(via antipodeans, tothemoonandbackagain)
