It isn't life's challenges that define you, but rather how you progress beyond them. I love style and I love art. This blog will serve as a memoir through this grand life I have been fortunate enough to live.
I can't even begin to express how excited I am about the short film I've been working on with my good friend Robbie Gooding! If you remember the post I did right before this film then you'll recognize the poem when you see the film. I'd love to thank God for the sturggles that I have endured and will continue to endure. Even though I have gone through the storm, I know he is there with me and will never leave me. And Rob Gooding for not only being a creative force that took my ideas and my vision for this to the level it is at.
In addition to that I want to thank all of my friends who have supported and loved me through everything. You all mean so much to me!
And now...here is what we've all been waiting for
by Julian Eugene Woodhouse and Rob Gooding
I sit here by fire light wondering who I am. What is it that
makes me so special? Have I lost sight of that? Why do I always go back to this?
The dimly lit cigarette, the hellishly hot latte sit in my right hand. As it
trembles in attempts to warm itself against the brisk wind I feel its movement reverberate
up my arm and, matching the beat perfectly, into my heart.
My balcony sits above the city. From there I can see the
beauty of all that is around me.
I wake in the morning and see the sun slowly peaking its
dreamy head from behind the tops of the trees across the highway.
The birds don’t fly this high. Typically their songs that
remind me that no matter what is going on in this life, life is still being
lived are unheard. No bird sings tonight. No sun shines. Even the more distant
stars are hidden behind the smoke and smog of the city. Nothing is here to
cheer me up but the distant idea that my heart still has rhythm and if it were
to rain, not a drop would burst open onto my head without me allowing it.
The pain of my yesterday is something that I always return
to. The pain of the physical abuse continuously beats upon my body. The tears
that flowed down my oil ridden pimply skin, that always followed a good dose of
emotional abuse and guilt, eternally fall. I want nothing more than this heart
to stop beating. And for these tears to drown me and for my body to give under
the pressure of the patriarch’s fist. They know nothing of my struggle, they
know nothing of my pain. All they can really see is the blood that drips from
their wounds. For once, I would love for them to look beyond the scarlet tinted
lens they have stapled to their eye lids to me, their product.
I sit in my high rise apartment looking through the glare of
the candle lit living room to nothing. I sit alone standing in a puddle of my
own waste hoping that from it will come growth, meaning, and a life lived
freely. But will it? Or will I continue
in this pattern of self-destruction?
For once, I want my heart to beat for itself—for the blood
that cycles through my system to flow for itself. But my wants go unnoticed. My
blood pumps for whoever will give me the time of day beyond a simple hello. Like
the common cold my virus comes and goes and no matter how much growth I’ve felt
in the mean time I am always caught off guard, always unprepared.
When will I be okay? When will I abandon these thoughts and
take up joy as the center of my life? When will these tears stop staining my
pillows with dried salt at night as I sleep? For once I would love to wake up
and know that I am still breathing. I want to wake up and truly know that the
pain of my yesterday is just an ingredient used in the foundation of my success.
When I close my eyes I am still in the same position, lying
naked upon a hard cement floor with nothing. From here I can feel my lungs
beaten by the tobacco and asthma barely attaining the strength to pull in air.
I can hear them working. They sound like a card board box being dragged across
a dirty floor by a person thinking that through dragging this box they will be
able to one day stand atop it and gaze out over their pain.
Take me from this prison I have so successfully dropped
myself into. Remind me that the key to the lock is already in my hand. Hold me and
walk me to the door, show me how to put the key in the hole and to remove
myself. I’ve seen the red tape you have meticulously placed upon the floor
guiding me to freedom but I can’t seem to gather the strength to walk it. Peel
my limp and cold body from the equally destitute floor in which I lay upon, and
with care, walk me over the red tape to the door leading to my freedom.
Haven’t I served my sentence? Haven’t I already paid my dues?
Have I cried enough tears to pay the bounty for this? What else do you want me
to do? Is it that I need to cry more? Shall I weep so violently that the bolts
holding the door on its hinges break from the jostling of my body quivering,
like an epileptic? Because if that is what you want, then that is what you will
get. Tell me, show me, scream to me from ceiling of my cell your desires. Once I
know, I will perform for you. Once again, I will dance for you. My impure and
naked body will move to the beat of your desires and quench your thirst. It’ll
be beautiful. Wouldn’t you like that God? Wouldn’t you just love that?
Last night was amazing. I took some time to catch up with one of my best friends -- nicknamed Auntie M. We drank wine, made spring rolls and then danced the night away. I haven't felt so overwelmed with joy in a long time. Insecurities faded...
Life was good at least until I returned home. I felt the insecurities crawling up my legs and up my back. They wraped their arms around me and squeezed every drop of joy I felt out of me.
They dragged me to the mirror and as I gazed at myself teeth wine stained, hair in a disarray, eyes squinting at the light I felt an odd sense of security. I was back, feeling low and depressed. This look shows the progress I've gone through starting with being drained of all optimism and ending where I sit within myself currently.
I can be a very sensitive individual. My emotions are always trying to interfere with the functioning of my life. While taking the shots for this look I couldn't help but reflect on why I was taking them. Why I was allowing a bit of my soul to be ripped from me with every "ca-click"
I feel like there is a slight price to pay for it. There is a price to pay for a beautiful image. You find yourself holding your everyday appearance up to a magnifying glass looking for imperfections -- cropping here, blemish removing here or there, adding a tint of lavender and red, distorting, creating sunlight.
The end result is never what you hoped for, but it's the best you've got, so you accept it. In my life, my insecurities prevent me from truly living and enjoying the many things and experiences I am fortunate to have a part of it.
Eventually it'll either get better or worse, only time will tell. But I hope this lesson on me sits well with you and takes your quality of life higher.
I guess I never realized how static the blog has been...a change is coming...but not in the way Obama has inspired us all :/
think ACTUAL change...
Anyway. This is my roommate. This dude is friggin hilarious. The other day he asked me why I never put him on the blog. I think he was hinting at the selfishness and static nature of the blog.
After my awkward laugh I decided to go ahead and give it a shot... I'd say they turned out pretty good!! Thoughts?
Today I decided to go all black. A lot of my friends know I love to wear all black when I go out. There is something about darkness and the solidity of wearing all black thats is alluring to me. This look I took to work for the 2nd first day and I loved it.
Bought these pants from H&M a while ago. These chinos fit so well and are so incredibly confortable. Not to mention they are a cool color that has worked for spring and summer but will work for fall as well. I look forward to the endless possibilities :)
I had a blast at the Envision event hosted by City Pages on 09/21/2012. I met a lot of great and talented people. It's been a while since I've been surrounded by so many people with the same interest in aesthetics and style. Here are the runway shots I took, enjoy!
At the bottom of the post is a slideshow of the rest of the shots from the runway.
Like the pants in the Thanks Dad look, I begged him for
these. Using the same template I made these into harem pants. I've been
considering adding to my usual repertoire of tight fitting pants, pants with
volume and interesting proportions. I've seen it a lot for this upcoming season
and I figured I'd try it out.
I found this skull in the virgin islands a few years back after hiking through the forest. I kept it as a souvenir and it's just collected dust on my bookshelf but I decided to try it out as a necklace. I'm happy with it.
I performed at a RAW gig downtown Minneapolis about a month ago. I came across her while she was assisting an artist friend set up for the show. One look and I had to take a shot. I love everything about what she is wearing--very minimalist but also dynamic with the cut of the skirt and the cardigan.
I think I could do dreads, but I got a little time before I can do that. Perhaps when I'm older and established in my career I'll take a risk and grow them. But honestly the idea of that gives me a headache. I love them but I doubt I'll get them... but you never know right?!