armyofsnails: (Default)
Speaking of the notion of femininity...

Heather Cassils Gets Ripped for LACE Performance Art Show

I anticipate some men (especially men) wincing and thinking, "She is not attractive" but remember that she is not there to attract YOU. Read more... )
armyofsnails: (man replacer)
There is no excellent beauty, that hath not some strangeness in the proportion. - Francis Bacon, Essayes: Religious Meditations. Places of Perswasion and Disswasion. Seene and Allowed

Here's the strangeness that appeals to me. )
armyofsnails: (man replacer)
Jerusalem Old City is full of tiny shops belonging to the four quarters (Muslim, Christian, Jewish and Armenian) and has arguably the highest concentration of hapless tourists per square metre in the entirety of Eurasia. That's not to say I'm any different. Except that unlike most tourists I don't have a map, naively relying on my two companions who are ex-Israelites to show me the way. And of course we get lost.

We go down yet another labyrinthine alleyway peppered with emaciated cats and loud salesmen looming in doorways. One of the latter is eyeing up my lady companion as we are walking by. He has a greasy hairdo and an impressive pot belly for someone of his build. Without further ado the salesman makes his move, "Hello beautiful. Do you need husband? I have very nice cock."

My second companion - the actual husband - responds, "Thanks for the offer but but she already has one." We turn into yet another tiny passage leading from nowhere to nowhere. After a quarter of an hour of strange meanderings we somehow find ourselves back in the same alley with the same salesman shaking his formidable stomach at the passers by.

The salesman recognises us, looks confused for a moment but quickly recovers. He folds his hands into fists and turns towards my friend, jumping up and down like a cartoon boxer, "Do you want to fight with me? Duel, yes? Fight, yes?"

"Go fuck yourself," my friend suggests laconically. He drags his lady and me away as I attempt to take a picture of the scene (and fail). The shouts, "You think you strong man! You think you strong! I defeat you! Fight, yes! Fight with me! Duel, yes! I have very nice cock!" etc. are heard in the distance for quite some time.

and not just that... )
armyofsnails: (Default)
I love being in public places on my own. The murmur of voices, cutlery clinking on plates, the occasional sound of a broken glass and the resulting commotion; people at a table next door talking about how disgusting Christmas food is ("Brussels sprouts are a Devil's vegetable! A Devil's vegetable, I tell you!!"). Villiers was choc-a-bloc full of prams today and the air was heavy with the scent of mulled wine. I sat in the corner with the laptop drawing up for next week's work deadline, drinking coffee and doing my best to resist the smell of spices and warm alcohol. When I eventually cracked and attempted to buy a glass (around 6pm, having been there for seven hours, a feat) I was told that the next batch of mulled wine wasn't ready yet and that the barman was going to pop out to the shop for more spices in about an hour. So I left before I got the chance to sample any.

Drawing finished. Above ground and rainwater drainage details, including soffit mounted pipework runs. Whoopee. You go girl.

Feeling sad and empty for entirely unrelated reasons. Have some Glenn Gould while I'm at it.

armyofsnails: (time snail)

The Crouch End Budgens sells the big orange ones for £1 a pop. I went there yesterday and bought four. Nearly broke my back carrying them home. Then, last night in Muswell Hill, having just watched The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus at the local Odeon, I walked past a greengrocers and saw a display of every colour, shape and size known to man. Instantly everything clicked into place and I understood what true beauty was. I bought four more.

And they're not just good to look at... )
armyofsnails: (Default)
Ever had one of those moments when you wished that time would freeze, or perhaps even wished that you died that very instant because it couldn't possibly get any more perfect than this? And you knew it wouldn't last. You felt nostalgia for the event before it was over. You could take a mental snapshot and later arrange it in a neat little picture frame inside your head, and every time you glanced at it you would feel a vague sense of regret because the razor sharp intensity of those precious few seconds had come and gone.

I've had many such experiences but none as poignant as that particular one. So now I'm sitting here in my damp, cold London apartment, smoking, drinking cold black coffee and writing bits on my computer and I'm trying to relive it yet again. A hopeless task but I'll keep at it.
armyofsnails: (Default)
On Saturday, the strangest thing I've ever been called before... "You are like cordite". When I asked what on Earth it meant I was told that cordite is a firearm propellent and that I smell like one.

That possibly beats being called a "Rasputin-like vulture woman" (don't ask). I get my fair share of compliments, don't I??

Oh, and this is what I've received today from the client for my studio theatre project when I've sent an e-mail round saying that my surname and work e-mail address have changed...

"Hi Tania
That's a lovely name! Sounds really great - of movie star billing - enter your next building for the RIBA Gold! I don't know how it came about, but I wish you all the best!
Kind regards

Heh. He is such a lovely chap, but I'm not sure how to respond to that....

So much has happened in the past two weeks that it would take me at least another fortnight to write about it. Therefore, I'll just post a few pics and leave it at that.... for the time being anyway.

Racing Segways in the woods, Greenwich Observatory, DLR, blackberries, poppies, gingerification )
armyofsnails: (Gina)
Yesterday on the way back from the train station I saw the MOST GORGEOUS LEGS EVER. They belonged to a tall slim girl with long blonde hair - I haven't had a chance to see her face as I was walking behind her. She was wearing black shiny PVC shoes on pointy heels - at least two inches tall - and black lace tights. Her skirt was uber short, just barely covering the essential bits, and her ankles were so thin you felt you could snap them just by blowing air at them. PERFECTION. Yeah, I'm a bit of an old perv in case you haven't guessed, and I also only ever ogle girls - because let's face it, blokes don't have as many nice features to look at (when was the last time you saw a guy and thought, "What a great pair of legs on that one!")

I will definitely one day go the Bride of Re-Animator route and assemble the Perfect Girl from the best body parts I can find. Hopefully she will be pleased and not want to kill or dismember me.


Mar. 14th, 2007 08:33 pm
armyofsnails: (Default)
Yesterday I saw the most remarkable butt. A pretty girl, probably in her mid-20s, got off the train at Cambridge immediately before me, and I found myself following her along the railway platform, completely mesmerised by her backside. She was wearing tight jeans and high heels. Mmmmmm.... The jeans contained something wonderfully perfect, starting with an oval pair of cheeks, following with an inverted wine glass curve through the knees to the calves, and ending with an excruciating bottleneck width at the ankles. I was so absorbed with this remarkable sight that I almost walked into a glass wall upon reaching the station building.

Then the girl turned around and saw me staring at her. She gave me the glare of a lifetime! I swear to god, if I were male I'd have gotten slapped in the face right there and then...

Which brings me to my question. Why do men, generally speaking, prefer women to wear skirts/dresses rather than trousers? The obvious answer of "easy access" in most cases doesn't apply, because unless the woman is your girlfriend you ain't gonna get any access at all. Aaand SKIRTS! HIDE! ARSES!

Why not enjoy the free view while you can? What's the logic? I don't get it.
armyofsnails: (zen snail)
I read this passage while on the train the other week, and it made me put my book down and stare out of the window for the rest of the journey. I can't quite explain why. I just hope you enjoy it as much as I did - although somehow the word enjoy seems an understatement.

What makes Argia different from other cities is that it has earth instead of air... )
armyofsnails: (Default)
Had a busy Saturday - went to a Chris Ofili/David Adjaye installation called "The Upper Room", this year's Turner Prize exhibition a Dave Brubeck concert. Read more... )


Sep. 9th, 2005 06:43 pm
armyofsnails: (Default)
This afternoon we had the most violent thunderstorm of the year. Our office overlooks a large field in the middle of the city. Today it was full of schoolchildren shouting and squealing from joy every time thunder rumbled. Torrential rain soon turned into hail, and the kids quickly ran away. At 5pm the sky became as dark as at midnight.

I got out of the office and cycled back home – the storm subsided by then, and the skies turned from vivid purple to delicate, transparent bluish grey, with specks of sunlight breaking through in places, and giant translucent clouds in the distance occasionally emitting rays of lightning that would pierce the air all the way from above my head to the horizon. It was an amazing sight.

The road I normally use to get home was almost completely flooded. So was our front yard. I noticed a small heap of ice - the little that remained of the hailstorm - on the pavement outside our front door. I kneeled down and picked a handful. Each piece of ice was transparent and heavy, like a jewel, and as big as a beetle.

Steve is telling me our dwarf hamster became really active during the storm and started running on her wheel like crazy. She must have thought it was nighttime.


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