art | ethereal

while i was indulging in a belated #throwbackthursday last night, i kept thinking about how i haven’t taken a decent selfie in a while (ever since i broke my iphones back camera focus, to be exact. even though selfies are with the front camera, but whatever). and i couldn’t just take a selfie, so i set up the tripod in the late afternoon and had a bit of fun with my camera’s aperture and iso speed – fully taking advantage of the white light streaming through the window, and this ethereal looking shoot was the product.

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outfit | outfit of the day: 12/4/2014

hello readers 🙂 if you follow me on twitter, you would know that the past few weeks/month has not been the easiest (hence why i chose medicine as the song for this post… hehe) but i thought that my blog deserved a little outfit post. it was a quick little shoot done by yours truly with a tripod in my bedroom, hence why there are no detail shots, only my shoes (and my new hair) because i especially needed a reason to blog about them.

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vanity in the name of art

top from forever 21; shorts from edgars; mac lipstick

is it vain to have a blog post consisting only of photos of yourself (taken by yourself… and therefore selfies?) oh well. all in the name of art.

i shot these a week or so ago after helping my sister pack and discovering her purple mac lipstick evolved into a bindi-donning photoshoot.

hope you like them, i do 🙂

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a young revelation

a young revelation

alternatively titled ‘who needs pretense: you already know i am a loser’

i was thinking the other day about my blog – a blogsistential crisis, if you will – mostly revolving around the phrase, ‘what can i do to it? how can i make it more genuine?’ and moreover, ‘what do i post??’ and although those questions seem to be spiraling in my head on a never ending cycle, i thought it best to practice my favourite song’s (and by favourite, i mean, i have literally been playing this song on repeat for three days straight) lyrics: it’s a new art form showing people how little we care – tennis court by lorde.

and that is literally what i am doing. if you follow me on any of my various social media platforms, like twitter, tumblr or instagram (shameless plug, as you do), you’ll know that i seldom use capital letters. so then why, for the life of me, do i incessantly use them here? who am i trying to fool? hence the pretense: i put up a facade of punctuation and impeccable grammar (who am i kidding? my grammar is impeccable everywhere) on this blog and then wonder why i keep having blogsistential crises over how inauthentic my blog is. a blog is supposed to be an extension of self, right? so then why, oh why do i change a part of myself for the purpose of this website? i am such a silly little thing.

a silly little thing, indeed, who spends all her life on the internet, reading the words she hasn’t the brains to write and listening to the songs she hasn’t the guts to sing, in between taking multiple self portraits and abusing autocorrect for when her mind supersedes her fingers. i am nothing but the humblest of losers and i don’t deny it in the slightest 🙂

and in my many nights of tumblr ridden stupor, i stumbled upon an interesting truth: i am at peace in my mind. or at least, i am at more peace than i have found in the last nine months or so, and i know for a fact that this peace is divine, because i have spent nine months aching over something i wished no longer to ache over, and the moment i finally resigned my lethargy to God, i became at peace. why? because time, and recent events, have shown me that He never forgets. ever. so i can keep living and all the indiscrepancies that caused traumatic experiences can very well be forgotten. because they are no longer my problem. i no longer have to worry myself over how other people are succeeding when they have caused nothing but pain, because i believe, no, i know that their time is coming. what a lovely peace that brings.

yet, i digress. actually, i don’t. how can one digress when they have no clear path in front of them? all i have is a train of thoughts next to an overzealous platform seeking solace in the carriages with unknown destinations. what a lovely picture.

i prefer my alternative title, actually.

(and i am about to digress again. another reason why i am proud of my heritage is because my country birthed this great woman: chimamanda ngozi adichie. instead of blogging about her myself, read someone else’s here.)

anywho, after a tissue ridden week and a sinutab induced daze, i wish you all a great weekend. and to my lovely Jewish friends, a happy fast and Yom Kippur.



I find it incredibly ironic that for the photos that are specifically for the purpose of this blog, I am always fully made up, yet in real life, you seldom see me in make up. Maybe it’s because when most girls started having a go at foundation, eyeliner, eyeshadow and mascara… my mom said no. At the time, I may have resented it because for a girl who’s physique wasn’t the most feminine, femininity was all I wanted. But now, I am beyond grateful for it, because I don’t deal with constant breakouts (I notice that whenever I wear make up for two or so days consecutively, I breakout), and I don’t have to worry about people I know seeing how I look without make up on, because that’s how I always look. Dispelling the usual, people seem more surprised when I wear make up than when I am seen without it.

And seeing as the rest of the world has seen me without make up, who am I to feign authenticity in my thoroughly made up photos? So have a look – my face completely stripped bare, with nothing on but plain lip balm. Let’s see just how vulnerable I can look, especially seeing as I woke up not too long before I took these. No make up. No editing. No filters. Just me. Just for control.