ghxsts bio picture

FOOD FOR THOUGHT.

Welcome to my blog!

Hello my name is: Icicle Audacity. All I see are ghxsts. I'm the misguided stride for self improvement - a sadistic, futuristic machine. A hollow cold emitted through vibrant lights, it’s a warm as wool winter but I’ve got a chill I can’t shake. This is what I am & I think I’m fine in my own misguidance. My bones are frozen, my marrow has turned to ice - my body is just a body, a corpse without a head. I'm just a vessel & my brain has long been dead.

Dylan McAmmond
Facebook
En Vogue Photography
Printkind

"That's really the only thing that matters to me, is that I make art for a living. And if I make art for a living... I win."

Manhattan silver

She raises the laurel, the gift of the earth, which is covered in crystals of a soft powdered snow. They gleam in the light; like ice; like mirrors. This covers the green leaves whose twisted path grows. They’re sticky with magic and lovely in smell – it’s the fragrance of flowers and fruits the earth grows. She examines and awes them, their beauty so fragile; They’re covered in crystals of a soft powdered snow. Soft in her fingers, she pulls at the leaves, awing the way that they peel like the rind off an orange or the skin off a grape. She loads them and chokes them, an ode to the green. She thanks it and thinks then “Things aren’t what they seem”. She laughs then and eats then, she lives in a dream, she looks for and yearns for shadows unseen. She raises the laurel, the gift of her gods. She lives for a dream she forgot. She laughs at the heavens and frowns at the earth, she thinks, “this is all that I got”. Not for a reason and not for a rhyme but the dream she can hardly recall, the laurel, a victory, she never won – The dream must be the start of it all. She raises the laurel and radiates light. A dream she can start to remember – The summer has faded into the autumn, soon comes the winter December. But always comes spring and the fragrance of flower, wafting in wind and in voices forgotten, forgiven, forever’s too long – today is the time of rejoices. Days are brimming with magic and lovely in smell -it’s the fragrance of flowers and fruits the earth grows.

Live in the daytime, carpe the day
Sieze the diem and hold on tight
Spring fades to winter, and to quote Dylan Thomas
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Your email is never published or shared. Required fields are marked *

*

*