If I had been around when Rubens was painting, I would have been revered as a fabulous model. Kate Moss? Well, she would have been the paintbrush.
quote by Dawn French
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I thought it was quite vain to say, I want to be a model.
All of a sudden I was living what is perceived to be the model life. It was just full-on, 24 hours a day. It was work all the time. And there's always a party to go to.
Rubens' Hell
VENUS with rosy-cloven rump
And rings of straw-bright flying hair
Looks in the glass that slaves are plying
Not for her own face floating there,
But for the sly and curious gaze
Of Rubens, through the keyhole prying.
Warm flesh of gods, by light embayed,
And drifting daemon-bones within
That sweep like music up and down
To pouts and cups of ivory skin,
Firm-valleyed croup, and swagging arm
In whose embankment bracelets drown—
Do you remain, you strokes of paint,
With Venus mocked and Rubens dead
And Beauty sold for an antique
And microscopes raised up instead?
Still are your old adherents true;
Rubens is there, if he could speak.
Rubens is there in your high room,
Rubens it is who blows his breath
To fix you laughing in the glass,
Who keeps a castle here from death
While schools go out and fashions fall
And microscopes and movements pass.
This castle-keep of joys conceived
But never sucked is Rubens' hell,
Is Rubens' limbo, cut and won
From darkness. Here he comes to dwell.
Man's heaven is the place he builds
By thoughts imagined and things done.
Some choose a paradise of gas,
And some, by pious deeds below,
The heavenly butter-hatch for flunkeys;
Who dream of nought to nothing go.
Therefore I'd sooner Rubens' hell
Than go to heaven with the donkeys.
poem by Kenneth Slessor
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Joe Fabulous
don't play my music on mtv
play it on the radio
we are the street kings and we don't care
yeah we really don't wanna know
i'm joe fabulous
life is my school
joe fabulous
and we are the merchants of cool
we do our thing
we believe in no sin
we are beyond your control
if you look closely
you'll find that were mostly
machines looking for a soul
im joe fabulous
life is my school
the next joe fabulous
and we are the merchants of cool
we aim to analyze
everything you say and do
so we can sell it back to you
joe fabulous
life is my school
joe fabulous
and we are the merchants of cool
there are no nations
just large corporations
flying the flag of the day
from dawn of creation
to civilisation
please don't take my music away
joe fabulous
life is my school
joe fabulous
play by my rules
joe fabulous
and we are the merchants of cool
thats all
bye bye everybody
bye bye
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Daft Days
The midnight hour is clinking, lads,
An' the douce an' the decent are winking, lads;
Sae I tell ye again,
Be't weel or ill ta'en,
It's time ye were quatting your drinking, lads.
Gae ben, 'an mind your gauntry, Kate,
Gi'es mair o' your beer, an' less bantry, Kate,
For we vow, whaur we sit,
That afore we shall flit,
We'se be better acquaint wi' your pantry, Kate.
The "daft days" are but beginning, Kate,
An we're sworn. Would you hae us a sinning, Kate?
By our faith an' our houp,
We will stick by the stoup
As lang as the barrel keeps rinning, Kate.
Thro' hay, an' thro' hairst, sair we toil it, Kate,
Thro' Simmer, an' Winter, we moil it, Kate;
Sae ye ken, whan the wheel
Is beginning to squeal,
It's time for to grease an' to oil it, Kate.
Sae draw us anither drappy, Kate,
An' gie us a cake to our cappy, Kate;
For, by spiggot an' pin!
It's waur than a sin
To flit when we're sitting sae happy, Kate.
poem by Hew Ainslie
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Model Citizen
Be an Arab
Be a Jew
Be a boxing
Kangaroo
Beat yourself
All black and blue
I don't care
Be a bleeder
Be a Cancer
A hemophiliac
Romancer
Be a crippled disco
Dancer
Oooh... What a pair
He's a model citizen
I think I've got them fooled them again
He's an ultra-sweety guy
And a master of disguise
He's a model citizen
Just keep believing that my friends
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm an all American!!!
I'm a hostage
In a city of creeps
They've got mercenary guards
That watch me sleep
They'd like to kill me slow
Bury me deep
In the heart of Texas
I'm a martyr
I'm a sadist
I might be the Saviour here to save us
I'm a friend of Sammy Davis, casually
He's a model citizen
I think I've got them fooled again
He's an ultra-sweety guy
I won't let down my disguise
He's a model citizen
Just keep believing that my friends
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm an all American
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm an all American
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What people say isn't going to stop me. I have to do things for myself.
I have made some of the best friends that I've got in this business.
My child
I picked up my paintbrush
to capture your face,
pretty eyes, rosebud lips
and a smile to melt ice
and catch the sun.
But were your eyes small
and your hair dull,
if smiles were teardrops
that wiped out the sun
you would still hold my love
for between the paintbrush
and the canvass
there is your gentle soul.
poem by Ruth Walters
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There was a point when it all really took off and got quite overwhelming, even though I didn't realize it.
People don't hear me talk. They don't expect me to.
When people see an actor speak, they think they know him or her, whereas I'm just a face or a body to them.
I was 14 when I started modeling. At the end of that first day my mum said, If you want to do this, you're on your own because I'm not traipsing around London ever again like that. It's a nightmare.
The moss that loves the stone
It is the moss that loves the stone
Most. No matter what or when, the
Moss somehow manages to stay
Even without a why, they say.
But the moss keeps on sticking
To the body of the stone that
Keeps its nonminding stiffness.
It is cold, it is hard, it is unfeeling
At all. It is the moss that keeps its
Love. It sticks with it, rain or shine.
It rolls with it. It stays with it even
In the desert, even it if means its
Own death. It is the moss that sticks
To the stone. It is its true lover.
In the river, the water has ordered
The moss to leave. It ordered the stone
To crush it. The moss cannot be
Removed. It covered the stone.
It is loving it whole.The stone has
Become the moss, and the stone
Is gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Calvin was very clever. We did the pictures and made the commercial, and that really worked.
Actors do like watching girls parade down the runway for some reason.
Now I can walk into a room full of people I don't know and do my job. That's quite a massive thing to learn, I think.
To Know Without Knowing
Red moss, crimson as blood of a slaughtered calf,
I knew I had seen it before but could not recall
where or when. Like seeing a landscape painting
knowing I had been there before, long time ago.
In the valley of cobblers children ran barefoot on
summer grass and they scented of wildflowers
unpasteurized milk and healthy, innocent laughter.
I know this to be true but don’t know why?
I think of reindeers would they eat red moss used
as they are to the grey variety? Sun keeps shining
like Spanish blood orange with a wicked cold.
The good earth is dry, waits for rain…plenty of it.
The red moss is a forgotten love story and perhaps
if I sit still long enough and wait I will remember it.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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