titoamor


Tito Amor

Fragments of the Whole


of ink and oil.
newish
titoamor
The things which humble and determine safety are so fleeting

We get caught up in the notions of labels, identities and pupose to underpin and define us. Somewhere along the way we can lose ourselves in that ether owing to responsibilities that lay outside of our own interests, in this we lose an aspect of ourselves. The dynamism that once coursed unfiltered creative exploits is now safely contained, docile and domesticated - it's sterile, clinical. A creature once admired and feared is now trite and unbecoming.
The notion that times and people change is nonsensical; it is context that changes. That which was once daring, unusual or queer of the past is normalised years later. In this, I've let myself become stagnant in my processes. In talking to various friends and contacts within the creative field I have a new urge to open my studio back up in full form. The downside of this however is having less time to spend with those close to me, though I find a sense of peace and oneness that I struggle to find elsewhere. I need to try not to become a lone artist again, although I made some good work and nice concepts, the overarching conflict is between being creative and cripplingly alone, or socially viable though unfulfilled. The answer is simple, I'm aware. A balance of these things would ease those cons, though it's easier said than done, I don't quit when I'm on a roll and struggle to regain that focus if it's broken.

I want to tap that well of ink and oil once more, let it stain the sky and paint the world.

Discuss or die :V
titoamor
Perhaps now would be a good time to update this old relic, it spurned interest so why not ride that gravy train.

It's odd really, how something that's buried away and is really meant as more of a memento to my thoughts at a point in time can drive someone with such volition twoard me, for being honest about my emotions and my rationale? The name of this journal acts in the manner it is titled, they are fragments of the whole; Very few people know how I work and what I think, I mostly keep these things to myself or on a need to know basis. The thought that my words, tucked away behind a cloud of anonymity around those concerned could still rile someone, I've gotta be honest, kinda excites me. That vitriol aimed toward me so succinctly yet it's barely the tip of my views on the entire issue, merely a glimmer into my inner workings.

The situation that developed is far from surprising, I'd been talking to the bf about it in the past few weeks actually, the fact it emerged the way that it did I guess was striking, though when you've been pondering over something for some time you're pretty much prepared for anything. Asking me not to write something isn't going to get you anywhere, sorry mate, I don't work like that. You can try to appeal to my morals or understanding, but they're there for people I actually give a shit about and instructing me not to do something simply gives me more reason to actually do it. A little bit childish or petty, but kinda fun in that same theme as well.

Unsurprisinly, the hurt and upset that I predicted would happen, did happen. A complete unshocker for those with some semblance of how relationships actually work. I, as in my previous journals on the matter, distanced myself from the situation for fear of being drawn into it and again, not surprisingly I'm glad of my wits in that regard though emotionally it was difficult. Let's roll the page forward a good 5 months. I am still there for my friend, I'm not as close as I had been, though we're still close and good friends.He knows how I feel about his boyfriend/not quite boyfriend/ friend/ associate and I still maintain my views to this moment, because I've been shown nothing to the contrary that I feel he's an emotionally manipulative person who's doing more harm than good, and to my friend, that's not cool. The number of times I've had to console him when he's bereft over this douchebag is more than irritating. The guy maintains it's lurrve honest and to speak to him, which I do; it's kinda hard to say that it's super duper lovey wovey when your friend says with regret that he's getting back with the guy and apologises numerous times over the phone to me. I didn't realise that's how true love works, but I'll have to give it a go sometime.
It's funny how you dragged me into this entire thing again, when I'd done nothing toward you and left you to your disastrous relationships and wiped my hands clean of it. The more comical side is saying that I wasn't discussing it with you, despite the fact that we -were- discussing it, it's kinda hard to ignore the oxymoron floating around. The brilliant aspect as well is deflecting away from the point that I'm not happy with you is because you hurt my friend, which either you don't care about or are so self-obsessed and insular that you can't fathom perspectives outside of your own. A discussion to you is making me see and agree to your point of view, which I'm sorry but it categorically isn't. Not only is your view wrong in my eyes, you don't even see what I'm talking about, despite the fact that other people do. The little bubble of joy I experienced when I wasn't the only one who saw this in you made my fires blaze a little brighter.

For now at least, I'll let this settle. I'll be there when this collapses again to get my friend back on his feet, you're not worth my time and I've only kept you around to keep the peace, though I honestly don't need to anymore, even according to you. Now I'm going to get back to what I was doing in getting on with my life, like I was doing before you dragged me into a scenario that I left alone in the first place.


Ciao
--

Delusion fills the void.
newish
titoamor
It's far from easy to walk away from something where a connection so strong has bound us once before, yet those bonds which were once secure had become my shackles; rigid, abrasive, caustic.
I had to break free.

Your presence runs shocks through my nervous system, I feel sick at the notion of your interaction with others. I am the one you should want, I am better than others, though I guess the more disheartening thing to say is, I'm better than you. There's no hope for a creature such as you, who's head is so free from the guilt and conviction of simply being, as mine is. You became stuck in the pungent tar of my thoughts, you became trapped within my walls and I never wanted you to leave. Unlike many confection connections, I'm not for sharing, nor am I a grab bag.
You'll always remain with me, as others are trapped within my thoughts. The make-up that is me, is dictated by that of others, without them I continue to be a creature with no purpose, the dog chasing the car that never was.

Where have my dreams gone?

In writing, these thoughts can leak some semblance of rationality onto a page, one which my mind so wishes it could manifest. Reality is far too bleak a place for me to reside within, I am both the solver of problems but more-so the antagonist for them. I should get lost in my work once more, it has been a long time since I have, that distraction away from the life that I have spun for myself, one that fills me with more disdain and vengeful emotions than if I simply hadn't applied my model to the world around me. They got in too deep.

Restructure.

Destroy the effects that harm you, blend that material into a medium to draw into large structures, spanning the skies and tickling the clouds from your sanctuary.
I need to empty my thoughts, crack this skull and let it's contents leak out a masterpiece that the scavengers can devour - Bloody mind paste whistling past their teeth in hunger.


I am not fulfilled.
Delusion fills the void that life presents me.

Av hunder og hjort
titoamor
--

Thumbing through names, each one conjuring different thoughts, memories and emotions. To every one a connection that I share between us, whether you're aware or not of it's presence and prevalence. I find your name amongst the others, though it's location is far from lost to me, it's context has changed swiftly from where we once were. I'm sorry that you got caught up in all this, but I have to run damage control, the risk factor is too high and you're being played but won't listen to reason. I can't stand by you when you're worth so much more, but won't give up that which is a wolf in sheep's clothing.

The cross-over I find you in pulls my heartstrings, makes me nauseous and makes my head spin with irrational thoughts. The reason for this entire ordeal is because I care too much for you, from this precarious height it's quite easy for me to lose my footing and feel overtly vulnerable. You told me how much you cared for me, but I don't think you really understand what being emotionally close to someone really means, it's not sexual in nature, but in how it feels within. I'm far from innocent in this entire affair, despite knowing you I laid my heart on my sleeve.

I find myself in a crux, your affections lay deeper for someone else than they do for me, to the point where I'm nulled in their presence. They use others for their own gain and you're on that ride, you're too kindhearted to see, but I'm an asshole of years gone by and see through their walls. The future holds upset for both of you and I'd kindly not be dragged along with it, I've my own sinking ships in life to deal with. Feeling of hurt and anger when I still include myself in the colourful picture of this scene, or the deeper sadness I feel having to leave you behind, knowing where fate will lead. I'm not thankful to be in this scenario and it really shouldn't affect me to the extent that it has, but I guess in exposing myself it simply intensified my vulnerability, my reactions being blunt, calculating and utterly unapologetic.

--end-

.
titoamor
I'm not sure whether to feel ashamed or not that there's not a single person who knows the whole score about me and my life. Everyone has snippets but lack the full stream... All I know is I'm entirely alone in this...

Within these vessels
kitpup
titoamor
Nauseous, my stomach lining vibrating like a drummer-boy's snare. Anxiety and overcast thoughts plague my mind, some looming o'erhead whilst some flash with such direction to completely change the nature of the storm. My head aches as I'm caught in its centrefugal movements that holds me static in the centre of its wake.

I struggle now to describe how utterly depressed that I actually am, being on the border of breaking down into long sobs every minute is not only exhausting but its caustic to fluid thinking. I am at a crossroads and at each turn an impending downfall awaits me, the difference being what period of time I want it to, or should I say, let that, happen.

I've genuinely run out of patience and now I'm sat here, listless, unfeeling sack of fleshy shapes with a conflicted method of thinking. I'm falling down the rabbit hole and although there are hands trying to stop me, I still tumble down it with ease, my burdened weight carrying me down to my ultimate stop point - now's the time to break through or fall flat, an impact nevertheless is imminent.

I fail to understand why I should have the same uphill arguments over and over again, meeting an agreement and yet nothing changes, its the same shit every time. I not only deserve more than this, but I can't stand going out of my way to keep someone elses life easier than it would be without me. He is a burden, and after smashing glasses, punching holes in doors, kicking my tools over and smirking at anything I say - he's a cunt and I deserve better. Sitting around the house all day doing nothing and generally making my existence at home something that I don't look forward to at all, in fact I'm now to the point where I'd much rather just not come home. Perhaps I should look up that career in the forces and just go down that path, I can't stand living here like this any more. There's no respect or acknowledgement for what I do to keep this place working smoothly. I'm done with all that now, in fact I'm done with a lot of things. Its time to go back in my shell for a good while, find out the guy who I used to be before weighed down with the bullshit and the word 'mug' was tattooed on my face.

--

Why is it my life is playing out in the same way as Velvet Goldmine...

Null
titoamor
"Learn to love yourself, son." - Mother

"You need to talk more, I never know how you actually feel." - Boyfriend

"I'm an enigma all wrapped up, in a lie" - Bryan Slade - Velvet Goldmine

Weddings, funerals, babies and break-ups. My mind aches from empathy..

'I am not happy, but I am well' - Marquis de Sade

Allowing my boyfriend to make our pet cum but only in the way I allow with permission... how have I gained this level of control and how am I still not fulfilled. I love the quick-beat of the race when pursuing, but then it becomes pure ownership otherwise.

--

Vacant and longing, all the attention ther for me to have yet nothing I feel ruffles my most sensitive areas. I'm desolate and wondering if, is there anything more than, well.. this?

Signed,
-A cunt who gets what he wants.
[No challenge averted]

Tito Amor

Journal Scribblings
titoamor
--

  Feeling the need to touch base; all the time the notion of false control unto a situation whereby my grasp is barely a hold, clutching at life as it spirals me out into nothingness.

  I want solidarity
  I need stability,
  Instead I'm paralyzed with
  Crippling inadequacy.

  I don't dream. A life so isolated and solitary that even my subconscious won't keep me company; alone, desperate, longing and yet...

  Vaccuous nothingness consumes me. I am simply alive, that is all.

  So it seems all my frustrations have all come to fruition in my consciousness; the loathing of my work is grinding my will to nothingness - detestable hate fills the void. Change is coming and with it brings shattering reality through an otherwise static, enduring mediocrity of slow peril.

--

It seems my muse left me and only recently has she come back and promptly probed at my depths after a break of around two years.

Insert title here
kitpup
titoamor
A lot has happened in the months I've not posted here, and in some way I can't figure out whether this poses that my life is going well because it is busy, or that I'm neglecting the things I love to think and write prose about; but nevertheless, I'll continue on.

--

I've been out of education for just over a year now after successfully getting my BA(Hons) in Creative Arts with 1st class status. I decided on a year away from things to get my head together and to focus on what I truly want out of my life and have decided, as a long lingering thought of mine, to go into teaching in higher education. The options were to either apply for a Master's degree and then teaching at secondary school level before pursuing the higher tiers. I've changed my mind on this topic now for a few reasons; firstly, the master's degree that I would be taking would cost an extortionate amount of money and wouldn't particularly further my education, more that it would improve my own art practice. Secondly, after a Master's degree I'd be looking to do a PhD with the research that my work would inevitably explore, rather than focus on it truly, with precision. Because of this, I've chosen to apply for a PhD at my former university, one which boasts a multi disciplined array of supervisors and the ability to specialise in my own field.

My own field; this is a tough one. Though my practice has led me through different directions in terms of art and outcome, there are only two main avenues that I'd be truly wanting to explore. Firstly, that of Anthropomorphism in Contemporary Art along with its critical, societal and philosophical underpinning and perhaps as a complete change to that; Live Art: Interactivity, Installation, Concept and Control. Both working titles and ideas at the moment. The former I've loved and been fascinated with for many years, the latter is one that has interested me in both ideological concept and practical execution.

Although books exist on anthropomorphism in general and to a degree of detail in architecture, there is no fervent application or research of this in terms of contemporary art, a form which not only is my work deeply involved, but also that of my many artist influences also. Some more initial research into this mus be made and a direction found.

Until then,

Hoobletoodledo

Writing, missives and the Kitpup
newish
titoamor
Perhaps an update is in order, seeing as I've not updated this in quite some time and a significant number of factors in my life has changed since. Those of whom I talk to regularly are aware of these changes that my life and self have forced to come around and has been both refreshing and challenging in equal parts.

Creatively I've been more inspired to draw and write than I have been for a long time, perhaps due to time changes or otherwise, all I know is that this is a good thing. In my last journal I outlined the difficulty in reaching the level of depth within the characters of this novel, the characters asserting different philosophical and sociological paths while existing within a [somewhat] solid ecosystem and their inter-disciplined existence. I find that the level of depth is something that is challenging, but incredibly engaging with myself as the writer of such missives, the male protagonist being both a lovable and loathable character while being consistent with his role.

Philosophy stands as an interesting area of study to myself in any circumstance and within certain understandings it is possible to submit to certain teachings and concepts over that of others. The interesting thing about creating characters that assert this as their will is that they then take on the action of concepts, to then introduce the conflict of interaction between them in a somewhat realistic scenario. It's odd really, I've found myself using different concepts that I'd used throughout my art degree and am now applying them to the foundation of these characters, the interaction is something that is spontaneous and causal, as our experience in life is, unless you wish to go down the whole determinist route. The structures of the buildings are proving to be quite interesting, bordering on the classic Futurist movement; the idea of grandeur, speed and progress in the post-industrious era; dare-say the beginning of the contemporary era.

Outside of this, perhaps writing is therapeutic to my needs, to explore certain ideas to their fullest volition. I think I need to remember not to get lost in my work once more, because that was quite a difficult thing to shake off really.

===

In other news I've been active at a few furry meets now in the South-West and have enjoyed them a lot, I've made some really nice friends which has helped me whenever I've felt low. With Christmas fast approaching I should really finish my shopping, it should be quite a fattening and unusual Christmas for me at any rate. New Year will be a quiet one with a close friend with beer, snacks, poker and games; good times ^^

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