Weekend Kolours and Shades

I am so in love with these fabulous pics my gorgeous cousin, Fazlyn snapped of me over the weekend. I love modeling and also exhibiting, though it may not be the greatest, elements of my personal and inspired style. I love drawing inspiration from sources like; The Kardashians, Scott Dissick, Mark Westinghouse, Nicola Formichetti (Creative Dir. for Thierry Mugler), and then all those other kaleidoscopic and multifarious ideas I have welling and swelling inside of my head. 

Don't stare into the lens, if you make it another person, you're looking at it, not into it for a natural glare. 

I think that if I was amenable to more money, I'd definitely have more edge to my style, and I do feel somewhat limited now, so I try to reinvent my outfits so that they don't always look recycled, dull, and conventional. I strive to be different in my approach, and by different I don't mean I want to look like no one else, it's just that difference is often subtle and exemplified through the adding of items like scarves, chains, and hats etc, that I know other people won't opt for, even if they look like me...head to toe. I feel like fashion is another aspect of storytelling, because your attire, even if you don't live by the adage, really does tell a lot about you, and denotes some part of your personality, that other people can decipher you through, and even come to like you by. 

Collages makes me so zestful 

I feel as if looking good can make a grim day all the more merrier, and totes impact the way your day is slated to turn out. A little perfume uplifts the spirits too, and your good demeanor and natural happiness is sustained so long as you keep notice of compliments and methods of self-fulfillment.

The coat is an excuse. No, an armor. The coat is frost abuse. 

 One other thing about me, is that I don't need a licence to good; so I could dress up on a Monday as if its Saturday, and spend the whole day lounging on a couch, whilst on a Saturday, I could go about clad in track pants and sneakers all day. It really relies on which mood I am in, and which mood I am hoping to find myself in, that influences what I am going to wear, not which day it is. 

I'm convinced there must be something surreal beneath those manta rays, doll

Amnesty International ArtsFest

Here's a video clip, of my poetry recital from the 2011 Amnesty International (Wits) Annual ArtsFest. The poem is called, Medusa. It remains one of my favourite poems, and I am very proud of the places its gone to, and the people it has revealed itself to. I suppose one focal aspect of poetry, is to do what a novel does, without all the chapters and tedious descriptions that span over 300 or so pages sometimes. Medusa is a metaphorical poem, aimed at the advent of the 'Corrective Rape' phenomena that unfolded egregiously in South Africa, first when the Banyana Banyana star was brutally slain for celebrating her sexuality, then the headlining murders of several other young, predominantly black lesbians in the country. The Caster Semanya debacle had just scratched open wounds, that many gender-rights activists had long feared would cause the fabric of society to disintegrate hysterically and unsparingly. The phenomena was interlinked with an assumption, or a misconception rather, by some black men and homophobic citizens, that raping a lesbian woman would cause her to come to the egress of her "newfound heterosexuality." In the poem, Medusa (a Goddess of the ancient greek times who was sent to live in the 'Hades' away from her privilege) is an allegorical figure of modern day torture, who is subjugated and compelled to accept a life of solitude, whilst simultaneously dealing with the fact that she had been defiled through the desecration of her body- she had been raped...corrective-ly.

#KrayVidsFromBackWhenItWasKray

Omg I found this really old video, of my cousin, Azizza and I, imitating two very old and primitive Coloured (malay) aunties at her house. We made so many of these, even devoid of documenting 'em, and I really miss these kray kray days. I think u can tell that we're both kray Taurus' who are talented and then related too! Enjoy.

I'm feeling this song Right Now

"You Don't Know My Name"

Baby, baby, baby
From the day I saw you
I really really want to catch your eye
There's something special 'bout you
I must really like you
Cause not a lotta guys are worth my time
Ooo baby, baby, baby
It's gettin kind of crazy
Cause you are takin over my mind
And it feels like oooooo
But you don't know my name
And I swear it feels like ooooo ooooo ooooo ooooo
You don't know my name
(round and round and round we go, will you ever know)

Oh baby baby baby
I see us on our first date
You're doin everything that makes me smile
And when we had our first kiss
It happened on a Thursday
Ooooo it set my soul on fire
Ooo baby baby baby
I can't wait for the first time
My imagination's runnin wild
It feels like ooooo
You don't know my name
And I swear it baby, it feels like oooo ooooo ooooo ooooo
You don't know my name
(round and round and round we go, will you ever know)

"I'm sayin, he don't even know what he's doin' to me
Got me feelin' all crazy inside
I'm feelin like"
Owww! Ooooo Oooooo
Doin more than I've ever done for anyone's attention
Take notice of what's in front of you
Cause did I mention you're 'bout to miss a good thing
And you'll never know how good it feels to have all of my affection
And you'll never get a chance to experience my lovin'
Cause my lovin' feels like ooooooo
You don't know my name
(round and round and round we go, will you ever know
And I swear it feels like oooo ooooo ooooo ooooo
You don't know my name
(round and round and round we go, will you ever know)
Ohhh

Will you ever know it, no no no no no
Will you ever know it?
"I'm gonna have to just go ahead and call this boy.
Hello? Can I speak to -- to Michael?
Oh hey, how you doin?
Uh, I feel kinda silly doin' this,
But um, this is the waitress from the coffee house on 39th and Lennox
You know, the one with the braids?
Yeah, well I see you on Wednesdays all the time
You come in every Wednesday on your lunch break, I think
And you always order the special, with the hot chocolate
And my manager be tripping and stuff
Talking bout we gotta use water
But I always use some milk and cream for you
Cause I think you're kinda sweet.
Anyway you always got on some fly blue suit
'n your cufflinks are shining all bright
So, whatchu do? Oh, word? Yeah, that's interesting
Look man, I mean I don't wanna waste your time but
I know girls don't usually do this,
But I was wondering if maybe we could get together
Outside the restaurant one day
Cause I do look a lot different outside my work clothes
I mean we could just go across the street to the park right here
Wait, hold up, my cell phone's breakin up, hold up
Can you hear me now? Yeah
So, what day did you say?
Oh yeah, Thursday's perfect, man:."
And it feels like oooo
You don't know my name
(round and round and round we go, will you ever know)
Baby Baby I swear it's like oooooo
You don't know my name, no no no
(round and round and round we go, will you ever know)
And it feels like oooo
You don't know my name
(round and round and round we go, will you ever know)
And I swear on my mother and father it feels like 
Oooo ooo oooo ooo ooo ooo
Oooo ooo oooo ooo ooo ooo
Oooo ooo oooo ooo ooo ooo
You don't know my name
(round and round and round we go, will you ever know?)

A Kardashian Saturday!

KardashianKolours

How fab is this picture @KhloeKardashian posted to her official site, featuring Kim, Kourt and the stunning little Jenner sisters too! #GorgeousAward

Poem: Melody from Beyond

all the altercations snake their way up
rising in twirls, excited as smoke
moving towards the periphery of the cup
around which your lips go perched
sealing off the last words e'er your voice hath spoke
and the soliloquy faces all but just smirked
hanging dust-made tapestry about the air
some of 'em dirt stupor gets entwined in your hair
there's no face slashing open 'cross the dawn
by every recurring incessant darkness you buck and mourn
emaciated to the Egyptian skin of your bone
morose and near some decrepit state of ash
you leave yourself alone
entombed in the derogatory situation, devoid of cash
without a currency, bereft of value
see how eyes and dreams have defiled you
none novice creations gleam in your stride
playing a million dizzying rounds of Jekyll and Hide
waiting on some revelation or some ulterior significance
heart-closed to your widespread malevolence
with your own expression mocked in the enrapturing flames
praying they'll remember you by at least
one of your many names
erstwhile they become oblivious to your disposition
thinking in alternate patterns of consciousness
you forget how it was you who urged the superstition
by which you are disbelieved and tossed about the malice

- Raeez Jacobs