artworks by a

artworks by a

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much needed update of the old lana del rey portrait in the works…

much needed update of the old lana del rey portrait in the works…

2003-110614 (persephone)  by menteurmenteur

2003-110614 (persephone)  by menteurmenteur

200314

it’s just medicine
it’s just medicine
it’s just medicine
it’s just a fraction
.
1/150
.
it’s just
me taking thirty minutes
out of your daily
mute me out when i talk too loud
ask me how i am
so that my own words drown me out
.
let the water rise
above southbank
and into my old house
wash me back from the north
pick me up from this coast
up to you
.
i’m dreaming of you
(you’re dreaming of your own limitations)
strangers kissing me
in the night
on rooftops
over a backlit 
(black but lit) 
motionless lake
(nobody cares, what you dream, a)
.
medicate the dreams away
pop another pomegranate pill
(a sweet red spanish fortress around me;
a valley of sound)
to feel the cotton of your knees
laid out on your lap
softly convulsing 
some herbal reality
of picking daisies
like picking teeth
as it swallows me up from underneath 
into an under-oathed admission 
of humanity beating out from your chest
under the earth
unearthed to use
.
underneath you
there you are
with your eyes
and your mouth
on mine
CPR-ing death back into me
and another reality
were i awake next to
the brown haired hades of you

Finally finished this bad boy… #elizabetholsen as #persephone  Proper photos will be up on tumblr within the week

Finally finished this bad boy… #elizabetholsen as #persephone
Proper photos will be up on tumblr within the week

just a little reminder that i respond to all of my messages except for anons! (i only answer privately) so if you have a question i have no qualms sending it back to you privately - please don’t be embarrassed if you have any art questions.
hope you are all well

- a

110614

it’s funny how
these boys
these men
have figured out the curve of gravity on gravel
enough to be able to kick their ground out beneath them
and land lightly like
falling between your own steps is nothing

some swerving tide of flesh
which i try to simulate
under and over
a too-large deck
built over two base plates with bolted down feet
stuttering off the edges and onto the asphalt
where i butterfly-fillet-sliced my hands on bitumen
on nicholson st
laughing as that woman told me i scared her with her lights off
getting on in some northern suburb
at a time at night far too late to be rational
and far too dark to be ashamed

because i can’t pack more than i can carry
down the weight of albion
picking daisies out of the grass
reminding how i’ll be pulling teeth if i’m not careful
i talked about transience
and i didn’t understand it until now
when i can feel each part of myself
leveling out on a road-turned-ocean
laid bare but a sweater
in melbourne winter
in some kind of juttery dance home
that warms me right up to my fingernails

i used to consume inward and outward
filling in
filling out
something i didn’t know was missing inside me but
it was just a movement i needed

nobody told me i could be so miscible
nobody said a fucking word

Hessian Magazine sat down with me a couple of weeks ago for an interview and it is now out on their website here (it’s also up on my facebook, if that’s easier to find). 

Hessian Magazine sat down with me a couple of weeks ago for an interview and it is now out on their website here (it’s also up on my facebook, if that’s easier to find). 

chillin’ with dylan 

chillin’ with dylan 

kaleidoscope

kaleidoscope

persephone

persephone