Sunday, December 30, 2012

Masquerade Ball:The Untold Stories of The Artistic Womb

The Last Chapter of 2012.
A part of me knew this was going to end disastrous, but another part of me wants to become a part of this, a part of me wants all the fame and the fortune, the money, and the ultimate league, an address of the high society, the society that controls the world, the society that plays the backstage of this horrible drama. The society camouflaging reality onto a better logic, you see. A kiss so sweet, that is how it just attracts you, like honey, all the diamonds and pearls a girl can posses, that’s how it works, it’s a trap and it ends sweetly, it will end with me. That is how I call it, the face of the virtual virtues, I knew this was trouble.

I come out with my beautiful, innocent, crimson heart, I come out and bring that as me and moreover for me and everyone else. My eyes are opened wide, they bring me over, they invite me, it’s like one of those parties I didn’t want to attend at first, but one of the best highlights of my live in the end, it’s a beautiful ceremony when everyone is just-a bit wilder, you see.

Then in the midst of this madhouse, I meet this guy, his eyes as piercing as swords, his cheek bones as striking as arrows of light, but he is the one who has the smile of an angel, an angel so pure I could never suspicious anything more than the word charming. He is as charming as the slight thin rainbows the sky posses, and his awkwardly shy behavior made the colors of his personas more attractive, he is my little lover for the night, or more like every other night, since my mind was set as a long party, whereas I danced my heart through the beautiful tunes I can never ask for more, the charm was all over him when he hit the grand piano.


He is an architect on his early age, he is a man I could never predict I would meet like a week ago, and then he comes over to me, like a crimson, charming unicorn, under the shades of his little husky voice, so sweet he sounded like the thin cigarettes floating on the smoking area on the coffee shop, he is like an ecstasy I can never resist, he is the addictive factor I can never let go, well at least for “the night”.


I am a man and a woman of many personas, I am not just one but partly 12, and this part of me doesn’t want to leave, but everybody else are alarming the alarm I can never understand, I am just a kid and usually these alarms happen turn out to be the part of me who’s right, the part of me who knows and senses the part of the world which should never be touched and burnt down by the darker shades that sound so innocent in the beginning, I am preserving myself in a way, and I can never know when to follow the alarm. The Masquerade Ball sound like my ceremony, where I can finally be hidden and masked

I fell apart on the dress, moreover like under the dress, he is as frigid and cold as his eyes, like the cold blooded creature he is the fire in the water, whereas he is the bigger fire coming over to freeze me down in immortality, I am finally changed, I am finally turned onto a new blood, more like bloodless, my tan skin turns pale, a pale version of my tan, moreover, which isn’t visible enough until I before the next dawn. I am finally realizing all of this trouble will never be worth. I am lost, my innocent is on a vacation and got hit by a star cruise, so every single part of my lighter personas follow me as slaves. I am just this wild, curious, and fierce creature I can never explain to myself, moreover like how I can never explain the beauty of blood, ombre, and inverted triangles.


I guess after all the fighting, the shopping, and the blood sucking, I just have to accept this part of me, this part of me who glimmers under my pale, tan skin which should be visible any time soon, and my hair which is messed around the area where my heart pumps faster. I am hit onto the rocky rocks of my mind, I am finally a feline, I am finally the creature needing nothing more but the prey. Whereas he became animalistic but he sounded more of an innocent, as we raced through our glimmering shoes, which may lead to spirals, he drops me onto one arena.


Everybody else holds an invisible collar for me, they should’ve suspected this heart-racing, animalistic persona which is partly being prepared to marry the dark, to marry the infinity, the immortal, and the end tips of the checker boards, to marry the dusk, to marry the night, the night holding the eye seeing up above. The eye which seeks for his hunger,  for this creature is just darkly screaming deep inside, as an animal, and as a human, as a Hybrid.


But then there’s a new voice inside of me, the voice of grudge, the grudge I want to leap onto, to the addiction which should be no other but my fault, I should’ve trusted his eyes and his mysterious heart, I should’ve sensed his cold persona deep inside that should be trouble for me, a troublesome figure to later become my role model, the king I preserve.

I realized that if he can be as sweet as roses, cupcakes, and glitter, he can be as pathetic as a homeless bird, so my vanity mind takes over, my mind set was being viewed as the femme fatale I became, a wild one, for sure. I am not only fierce, edgy, and darker than the moon, but I am as glittering as Marilyn Monroe, I am a feminist to myself, I am the female empowerment to myself under the crystal chandelier holding the power of masculinity over feminism, a subliminal orgy I can never understand, a pain I should stop becoming. I walk like the glitter I am, I become the jewelry I am worth, I become a pearl and a diamond in the exact same time, I am a final sequined dress, matched under Aphrodite with a pair of Studded Louboutins , edged out with snake skin, I am a woman of red, I am the woman of myself, I am a creature of woman.


But then this little voice of me comes out like a curtain call, it’s fury strikes like an aerial ace, like hurricane burning the end tips of my fingers, the rainbow opening a way for the leprechaun to fake fame, the voice of love, the voice of forgiveness. He may not appear with a white bloody unicorn, but he appears in studs, and with a golden cape and a crimson colored rose, I always thought roses should considerably be marked hypocritical, as it posses the petals of different shades, falling apart in the end.

So I said the word I always wanted to say as a little Alice in the Wonderland, in spirals I walk around the walk, but in the end, it’s a pair of invisible red flippers under these platform and high heels, I am walking in spirals, I am walking the live of Dorothy where in the end everybody gets what they needed, they get the shit they own from the beginning, whereas they never really realized the shades of it, the shades that lies between their insecurities, and I found mine, I found love and it glimmers better in the dark.


They talk like my heartbeat of my past when I come and open up, whereas the one I love is no longer visible, wrapped in the golden auburn horns, where I can never leave my innocence behind, but I can always change her onto me, I am finally the inner beast he brought out, I am finally the starring role of this game, I am a starring role of the dark, and believe me, it’s sometimes a lot better, I am just another girl, hit down the ground to make a change through my shadows, through these thick eyeliner I can only smirk ad blink with to look beautiful, even in my ceremony, and the attendant who I thought was the innocent Mickey Mouse, ended up to be the handler who was hiding this whole time, controlling my acts, and he holds the ceremonial with the hourglass symbol, from dirty, crimson, liquid, swelling through the writer’s nose.


I finally become the lady I’ve always looked up to, I became more of myself, the me I haven’t really met in the past few centuries in my past lives, I believe this was meant to be. I am masked, but visible, I am the creature I became earlier and more now, slowly I put my hands on his, and we closed the part of our eyes which is a medium for our handlers, the eye we see, the eye we know, which is hidden, we are bending our personas onto one, and I know where Dorothy ends up in the end, she ends up masked on her home, and as for me, I am bending my persona with him, we are finally one in two different bodies. And the staring dolls hold my sad innocence, because no one is going to take my soul away, because nobody really sold it, but in the end, I am not a product, I am a controller, I am the lost innocent because I am more of myself then.  I am the part of me I can never really be apart from, I am Ray Kellia Rhodensoma.


PhotoVogue Features:

PAR.Reinhardt Kenneth
Stylist.Nadya Joy
Hairstylist.Valencia Yong
Wardrobe.Diana Couture
Interior.Theresia The
Lighting Director.Lukas Atmaja @Lookgraphy

This will be THE PHOTOGRAPHIC SENSE's last post of the year, bloody unicorns, thank you so much for always having my back, for always being such a doll to my crimson heart, for all your art and your support, and for everything else, thank you so much,2012 had been a blessing towards my heart, see you very soon in 2013, in 2013, there will be no more lazy blogging, kunts! So, I know everyone else mostly is posting countdowns of the bests of 2012, I decided to post this because, this is the past part of me I want to expose currently, and I usually just end up getting bored on my old stuff, so enjoy it while you can, we were born for art!.HAPPY NEW YEAR, don't ever regret, a friend of mine said, that everything you own, will end up owning you in the end, thats what Jamie said. GOD BLESS YOU. xo

Monday, December 10, 2012

November Train to 42//HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUM.

“Choo, Choo”, I heard the voice glimmer in the atmosphere, you see, I’m talking of this train, which is slightly wilting like my senses, I’ve always been a very fashionable lady, still is, I can work like a thunder for a dozen of Birkins, I am a very, rational lady, I only kill for the best, for the products that define my perfectionism. I am always judged as a big spender, but I always ignore the hate, they will pour down like the style running down the runway, you can never get enough of them, but they define your perfection, because they wish to be the person I define.
I believe that, living is just as hard as a model casting for Vogue, if you inhibit the perfect natures, you can shine as bright as a red lipstick, biting down the lower part of your chin as flawless as Marilyn Monroe, like a glam star you can never stop being. Tucking down either your bob, your weave, your pony tails, anything you can ever be. Like a party you shine bright on the living, like charity, you are WANTED, now it just works with your personality, your belief, the drip drops of your rose petal charms, and the whole world getting a copy of Vogue with your face on it, been there done that.
I am originally a ginger, I was and still am an innocent, though I like partying and laughing hard, I just find beauty in joy and fashion. They ask me, whether I’m a saint or a bad girl, of course I’m a Saint, in the state of not being perfect, but a bad girl, in the belief of perfection. Nobody is perfect enough, and models are mostly photo-shopped, whether you like it or beauty not.
Like eyeliner, well I don’t like crying under it, I like shining under it, like glitter, unlike Haley. Anyways, that’s just a piece of my thought. I’m actually casting for fashion here, that is why I am in a Louis Vuitton train looking train, well not exactly. It’s just where I’ll be headed one day.
Just a little girl living the dreams, I am just as real as red lipstick and rose petals. I travel down the wind of dreams and become as real as the writings attached in my body, the writing of fate and faith. I believe everything is granted by God and His art. I believe this ponytail will grow as big as the Marilyn Monroe bob.
A mixture of gas flies up the wind, as I gazed down my little faux fur coat, I check down my burgundy, snake skin Celine Trapeze, I see my bible lingering, with several rare diamond jewelry I got from my ancestors, a bag of make up, several bottles of nail polish, a pair of Chanel sunglasses, a pen, a diary, and several cash tuck up onto a snake skin wallet and a perfectly covered iPhone5,and of course my ticket. I also brought a suitcase full of my designer clothes, my laptop, my iPad, my hats, everything I can possibly find.
As the railway passes through the soft drizzling rain, I tuck in an Hermes scarf and possibly too much changing, I just perfected my runway down the field. You know, like this dance floor kind of few, everyone looked at me in such confusion. I was just, over reacting over everything, since I’m just a small town girl, and now I’m living the dream. It’s that kind of imagery, red lipstick down my facial features, I was just, overwhelmed.
Though another part of me experience such desperation due to goodbye-s, I promised myself that, through these dreams, this will not be the last goodbye. I can date everyone I think of, I can be anyone I want, through the freedom of expression and art. Goodbye, which is the hardest part, would all be worth it after my dreams, I believe that, it will just be another imagery of sacrifice for success, leaving everyone behind.
It’s not the fame I live for, it’s the art and glamour I live up to, it’s the beautiful glory God creates through these atoms of dreams like light bulbs recklessly bleaching their hearts to success, everything, is just a step ahead, a new revolution, until it is perfectly being sewn as a couture dress, a dress of dreams, a dream where art flies like dark particles poisoning our nature like a pair of spiked souls.
As I finished everything, my casting preparations and such, I just realized one thing I forgot to observe, looking for love in the end, as I tucked my polished nails onto my handbag, and I just bit my lip and smiled, there’s this guy I left behind, we used to go on dates together, he’s just a country boy and now I’m living my dreams like a new Dolce&Gabbana print which will have it customs being launched down the runway in any second, like a bestselling fragrance, carved with chemicals enriching the sweet essence possessed by the physical curves, like being backstabbed by Perez Hilton like any other star.
I end up in an envelope, I end up with dreams of love and fashion, I end up stopping a cab, dropping off these pair of nude pumps to another state of fashion. Another state of dreaming. Because the world goes on like my dreams, again these atoms fly away like pink hearts on a mellow aura. Forever, Wherever, I will live by art and fashion, where love never dies. That is how this finally begins and ends.

PhotoVogue Features:

PAR.Reinhardt Kenneth
Model.Wenny Sukamto
Stylist/MUA/Hairstylist.Diana Putri
Mr.Backstage, Yes He carves EVERY Art piece on my Portfolio!

Anyways, Happy Birthday Mum, You're a super huge inspiration to me, thank you for giving birth to me, for inspiring me, for motivating me, every exhalation from your red lipstick only makes me stronger, thank you for everything, you are more talented than shining and glimmering diamonds, work under pressure, breathe compassion, love GOD and Art. x

Lookey Lookey, Andudei from Doodle and Denim Jeans finally sketched me, this is based on an outfit post on my blog "Imperial Androgynie", not only he is a talented doodler, but he gives me the BEST solution, he is such a dear(also a lazy blogger and a pokemon master LOL). Thankyou Andu!x (oh and I look so sleep vampire-ish with a cool ARTPOP shirt, where's my stache?)
reinhardth kennethondoodleanddenimjeans