chocolates and smiles

So as part of my bed rest boredom i am now watching the second season of true blood. i actually really like this show, its so obscure, which i guess is why i like it so much. The opening song is really catchy, and i think the video for it is...well just plain weird, but again i really like it. What do you think?

Apart from that i am just sitting around like a crazy freak. I have so many plans for when i can walk again though. the first week, i plan to have an adventure. i want to make a trip to savers and buy so many cool vintage style clothes, and i want to take so many photos of wonderful things, and i want to bake and cook. i am going to bake cupcakes, and cook fritters and quiches and spaghetti and paella and so many wonderful things. plus i want to make little chocolate treats for people. i am thinking about making so many, and leaving them on the door steps of random strangers with little anonymous notes with poetry on them. i think that would be a lovely surprise to find. perhaps i will enlist the help of my dear sally for this task.
i love making people randomly smile, and giving them happy thoughts, that someone, somewhere is out there thinking of them. something to brighten their days just that little bit. they don't have to know that it is me, but it makes me smile to know that someone out there is smiling too.
like bathroom walls. i love leaving little thoughts and quotes for people to find. i myself have found so many wonderful thoughts coming to me from what i read on the bathroom walls. not the silly childish things like 'for a good time call 0412...' the beautiful things like 'those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained'...it just really gets you thinking... that is one of my favourite quotes ever. it reminds me that i shouldnt over think things, and i should just feel. i beleive it is important to follow your heart, and not always your head. sure, it gets you into some trouble here and there, but it's what happens when you really want to live and i feel that life is too short to not be lived.

So that is what i am going to leave you with for now...remember...

'those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained...'

Eargasms

Over the past few days there have been several songs that i cannot get enough of. they make me smile wide, and make me go off into a lovely dream land.
the first is miss laura marlings song 'ghosts'. i will admit i have a massive girl crush on her, i think she is absolutely wonderful, and have been so lucky to meet her twice after two of her concerts. i wish i could be more like her.


another i wish i could be like is zooey deschanel. her band she and him is epic, and its a shame that there isn't more music like theirs around. the song 'in the sun' has been a favourite of mine over the past few weeks, so i thought i would share it with you.


And last but not least, is 'Clean White Love' by Lisa mitchell. this song is so catchy, and it just puts wonderful images in my head every time i hear it. and the film clip is perfect.

playtime in the snow

I went up to the snow the other week with a few of my friends for a bit of a holiday and while up there i took some photos of my gorgeous friends.
I absolutely love the snow. the pure white under the sun, the dark bark of the trees contrasting against the white. i also love finding foot prints in the snow... you can just imagine the fun that was had before, or what adventures those who the footprints belong to, had, or are about to have. its very exciting.











So I was reading a blog earlier by an photographer i really like, and she said that she was aiming to take three photos a day (doesn't have to be great, just photos). and i really liked this idea, because practice makes perfect (as ofcourse i am still learning) and i also love to capture pretty things that i see, and this is a way to do that. BUT i am currently stuck on bed rest after surgery to my foot (looooong story involved vodka) so i probably won't be able to do this just yet, however i will begin this when i am off bed rest (in the next two weeks) as there isn't alot of things to take photos of in my room, none thats interesting anyway....
But to begin this off, here is a picture of the tulips that my dad bought me after my surgery, isnt he wonderful!

Anyway, i must sign off and leave you for the day.
Lots of love and hugs,
Ruby Fey xoxo

From my wonderful Sally

Ruby is sleek blood red hair and red lips and dark eyes.
Ruby is op shop dresses over big black boots and stripy stockings and shoes, always shoes. She is obscure yet somehow always fashionable couture (she can make the strangest assortment of clothes look fabulous). Ruby knows you are looking at her and wishing you had her coat or her cowboy boots or her confidence to walk around looking like a bohemian indie queen.
Ruby is a big red Monarch Butterfly with the intensity of a supernova; when she loves you, she loves you fiercely. Sometimes it can knock you to the ground but it is always potent and passionate so there are no spaces left in your being to make you feel lonely. When Ruby kisses you she will always remember your name. Ruby is abnormally attracted to sin – it colours her world technicolour; like scratching back black crayon from a rainbow background. Ruby has blood roses growing in her hair and belladonna on her wrists so be careful because if you hurt her she will poison you. Ruby is a garden.

Ruby lives in a crumbling Victorian town house with columns and poison ivy and a balcony from which she can hang fairy lights and smoke weed. Ruby lives with her best friend Sally – Sally believes that she is a faerie, and so she only eats flowers and speaks in poetry and writes love letters to strangers because she is afraid to love the people she knows. Ruby looks after her though - she makes her eat her vegetables so she doesn’t waste away and teachers her how to love real people and not just the people in her books.

Secretly, Ruby is a hopeless romantic – however, she has learnt that life is not like a fairytale, that it is not black and white, good and bad, hate and love and that is all there is to it; she knows there are one million shades of grey. But she does know that reality has its own obscure, abstract, razor-sharp beauty, where raw pain can be transmuted into art and a million emotions will turn people into human time bombs, with hearts exploding in a cloud of glitter and violet butterflies.

Ruby can capture these moments with her camera (Ruby is a photographer). Through her lens, Ruby can see into another dimension, where the sky is ultraviolet and where landscapes and limbs and eyes can tell a thousand stories. Ruby knows that she can change the world through art, because her photos capture little pieces of the souls of her world and present them for people who otherwise cannot see a perspective other than their own. Ruby’s photos are mystical, enigmatic, mysterious, raw pieces of film flesh; you can taste the radiating emotions and smell the petrichor and feel her messages in your heart. Ruby sometimes takes photos of Sally; in these you can tell that Sally is a faerie, and sometimes Sally can see that she is pretty, but her innocence always shines through – she wishes she could be edgier, like Ruby.

Ruby doesn’t drive her car much – she worries about the environment and global warming so she rides her vintage bicycle, the one with the giant handlebars, everywhere. She likes to ride down to the beach when it’s raining, take off her shoes and take photos of the grey ocean. She also likes to ride the train to places she doesn’t know and explore, looking for new stories to capture; they are always hiding, but she has a sixth sense for these things, and so she can always find them. Most like to hide under the train station or in the trees or down the dark alleyways.
Ruby loves walking and running and singing and dancing and kissing in the rain, and bicycles and umbrellas and boys who aren’t afraid to wear skinny jeans. She likes writing messages to people on the public toilet walls and telling secrets to strangers and books about love and books about travel (in her mind, she is always travelling) and faeries and trees and colorful stockings. She likes people who go against the grain of regular society, she likes gay people and she likes straight people and she likes scars. She likes pretending to be young but she is more mature than you, because she knows the world is so much bigger and more beautiful outside her little soap bubble. She knows you cannot always trust your eyes as a primary sensory organ, she knows intuition is just as important – Ruby follows her heart.
Ruby is going to change the world with her art.

- By Sally Ophelia, my best friend xoxoxo

the story

She spent the afternoon lying in a field surrounded by wild flowers, and bewildering views. Her white cotton dress stained from the earth. She watched the day pass her by, dancing and laughing and taking in all that was around her. Exhausted she finally fell to knees and lay back to watch the clouds and let her imagination run free. This was her favourite past time. She would imagine whole worlds and lives playing out in her head; it was much easier than dealing with the realities of this world. This world was full of disappointment and deceit. She could lie in one spot for hours just picturing what went on behind closed doors, and the romance that resided in other peoples hearts.
She was a true romantic, and took pleasure in the simple things. She believed that their was poetry that lived within the hearts of those around her, but most were just too stubborn or selfish to notice. She too had poetry, but her gentle heart ached to recite it.
There is a boy she adores, a boy so wonderful that even his faults seemed perfect to her. A boy with eyes so deep that you could be forever lost in them, and eyes that when set upon you, it was like they could read your deepest desires and inner most truths. Sadly however, he belonged to another.
A clap of thunder broke her train of thought. The clouds were becoming darker and denser, with the promise of rain. She loved the rain; everything about it made her heart sing. The smell, the feel, the way when it washed over you everything seemed cleansed and new, and for that short time nothing else mattered. It must have been close to evening, and the sky darkened quickly. With another clap of thunder the rain fell from above with an almighty force. She rose from the earth, dusted her self off, and climbed onto her bike before cycling away.
She missed the turn off for her street, her mind unfocused, it was her heart that was taking control. Her vision blurred from the rain, she knew she should stop, but she was determined to make it to her destination. She followed her heart’s pull and when she reached the front of his house, she threw her bike to one side, letting it fall into the gutter.
She stood there for a moment trying to collect her thoughts, reason finally catching up to her. Before her mind could take control, she looked up, and there he was.
Her heart pounded so loud, that she could swear that it could be heard over the rain. He looked at her with those beautiful blue eyes, full of questions and confusion.
She looked down at herself, knowing that she must look like a mess, her cotton dress clingy to her body and her hair tangled and soaked.
His voice broke her from her own thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. Oh his voice was like a thousand angels singing in perfect harmony, it drove her wild and made her dizzy.
Drunk with his presence, she blurted out everything that she had ever wanted to say to him, but had always been to afraid to say.
“I think about you a lot. More than a lot. When I’m not with you, I yearn to be by your side, and then when I do see you or hear from you, my heart pounds in my chest and the butterflies in my stomach flutter like crazy. I know what I am saying doesn’t make sense, but I am speaking from my heart. I want to be with you, and even though I know that you have someone else in your life, maybe you want to be with me too. So here I am, putting my heart out there, hoping that you will take it.”
A few moments went by without words being exchange by either person. She chewed her lip nervously, slowly starting to panic. The thunder crashed around them, the rain falling even harder now. She had thought about how this moment might play out a few times before. This was the part where he would run over to her, grab her ever so passionately and kiss her in the pouring rain. He would then declare his love for her, and tell her it was always her that haunted his dreams, and they would live happily ever after.

His gaze locked onto hers. Eyes apologetic, he replied “I’m sorry” in a voice barely louder than a whisper. Even over the rain, the words were loud and clear and wounded her like a thousand knives piercing into her flesh.
She gave a slight nod of understanding, and turned around and began to walk away.
He watched her walk off into the darkness, leaving her bike behind.
Thankful that the rain masked her tears, and the thunder muffled her sobs, she sat on the porch of her home. She didn’t want to disturb anyone inside.
She felt alone in the world, and her dreams now leaving her empty inside. It was impossible to believe that her wounds would one day heal, but she let the melodic rhythm of the rain around her send her off into sleep.
Tomorrow was a new day.

life and death

There comes a time in a persons life when we realise that we are nothing more than mortal. As frail as porcelain and breakable like your mothers good china that she only brings out on special occasions.
We are easily battered and bruised, our skin as soft as the flesh of fruit, easily pierced through by hard or sharp implements, like a knife or teeth.
Death is imminent, and no amount of magic potion can deter it. We will all be greeted by the cool dark hands of death, clutching his long fingers tightly around your wrist, ready to lead you to another realm of being.
How does it make you feel?
Are you nervous or frightened or possibly brave in the face of death; after all 'to die would be an awfully big adventure'.
It was Peter Pan who said that - although he would never grow old to experience death knocking quietly on his tree house door.
Without death we wouldn't find meaning in life. Immortality would cause us to stop living.
Life isn't a competition of how many days we can survive, but how many moments in life stop our hearts for that split second when we experience something wonderful.
Life is fleeting.
It is that boy on the train that unlocks the cages we hold inside ourselves, setting the butterflies free, but we know that we will never feel his embrace.
It is the sound of the waterfall deep within a forest that only the animals can hear - it's so remote that we will never reach it.
It is the cotton candy at the carnival - a sweet rush that disappears as soon as it hits your tongue, leaving nothing but a pink colouring over your lips.
life is fleeting and short and we can't remedy it. It will end and you will die. We all will die.
However with every sickness there is a treatment plan.
Find the things that warm your heart and expand your mind.
Always dream - there is nothing sweeter than a blissful state of reverie.
Remain barefoot so you can feel the sand between your toes, or the grass tickling the soles of your feet. Let the earth grow around you and with you, your legs becoming like the roots of a mighty tree and your arms, branches.
If you must wear shoes, wear them for dancing. Moving in time with your heartbeats, your body reflecting and recreating the rhythm in your soul.
Fall in love often and with no inhibitions. Let your bodies fall into place like a puzzle and emerse yourself in the sensual pleasures exposed when bodies melt together.
Never lose your passions, they are what will sustain you throughout your short existance.
So maybe Peter Pan had it right all along - to die WOULD be an awfully big adventure, but not until we have experienced all the other adventures in life can we truly find peace and adventure in death.