The art of me.

This might be the understatement of the century, but I love make up. I know, I know - wild confession! There's a few different reasons why, of course - but let's face it, they're not exactly ground breaking or exclusive.


Make up is my comfort food, I apply it like armour when I'm feeling vulnerable, I use it to hide my less than perfect mood, I take joy in feeling amazing in it. I enjoy the ritual I have of being so particular, cleaning my brushes, sweeping on some liner, and watching as I transform myself into a different side of me. I bestow care and attention on myself - and for a little while, it's all about me. Exaggerating my lips, drawing on a pout, or even just shadowing in my eyebrows so they photograph better when I know I'll be out on the town.

“Pretty is something you're born with. But beautiful, that's an equal opportunity adjective.” -Anonymous

I've already wrote about how I knew I wasn't pretty. But to me, this was a good thing. I knew I could care for myself and feel pride in knowing I looked after myself in my own way. I think, all things considered, it gave me confidence, knowing I could practice beauty, not rely on prettiness. Some of my idols are their own created beauty. Mae West, Dita Von Teese, Marilyn Monroe.

“The makeup is simply an extension of the personality and colors, clothing, makeup all express something.” -Gene Simmons

These women are larger than life. Their painted face, the control, the poise. Even faked, the image they leave is hard to forget. But make up didn't make them who they were, or who they became. It was the cliff notes version, one look and you knew what they were about. Marilyn, a next door girl become sex goddess. Dita is controlled, powerful, and just a little naughty. Mae, well she just didn't get a fuck, she'd prefer you take her, but see ya if you left. They commanded, and got, respect. It isn't the make up on their face that made these women iconic, but it makes looking up to them easy on the eye!

“How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being.”- Oscar Wilde

Every person in the world is entitled to feel amazing. But no one deserves that attention or respect if they won't even give it to themselves. Everyone has their own way of stamping their identify on the world, even if they don't know it yet. Mine's is make up, and my red hair. I may not always feel the most gorgeous, the most talented, the most anything - but I know I've done something I love to do, and that makes me, me. And because of make up, I decide to be a different me every day.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.” -Miss Piggy

***I was gonna put pictures of my different make up pictures here, but blogger is being a baw. Sorry.***

What I did the day after the Rapture.

Woke up. Demanded coffee.

Drank said coffee.

Woke up.

Realised the world hadn't ended.

Went, "meh".

Played Fallout: New Vegas. I may as well get the practice in for when the world actually does end.

Ate.

Currently watching the BAFTAS.

About to make cake.

I have my family here, my sister Lyndsay, brother-in-law Alan not in the picture and nephew and niece Thomas Jack and Olivia, since they were going to Alan's brother's wedding and decided to make a holiday of it. It's been... busy! They're here for another week, and I intend to get my sisters all out together and get bladdered merry.

I realised I've not blogged in a while. I'm not promising to rectify that, because when I do I don't, but I will try. Honest.