I have always been fascinated by people who habitually attempt to cheat on other people.

I have done it, in the distant past, but very quickly gained sufficient stature and notoriety that everyone was aware of what I was doing and nobody seemed to be that bothered.  Being considered so desirable that you have a few people wondering if they can distract you sufficiently to consider them as your only partner is a nice place to be.

What I can never understand is people who bother lying about it.  This seems tedious.  I am aware, because I have been with such people, that for some it is a kind of game to see how far you can push someone.  This is not particularly healthy behaviour, and it is a bit manipulative. It is usually easier to just leave and go find somebody else.

This goes for friendships as well.  It is easier to keep things honest, even if honest is not always what people want from you.  One thing you learn as an itinerant caterer, is that your entire life can collapse overnight, so you simply learn not to invest terribly much in one person.

There is an inherent grubbiness in a more superficial perception of the world. If you are not investing terribly much, then anyone who is is either stupid, or so different from you that they had no business being in your life in the first place.  This then becomes tiring, and inevitably the lack of stability affects other functionality.  Unless you have retained that ‘centre of the universe’ position I first mentioned, life becomes rather shaky and so do you.

Having lived through these periods, and seen many different interest groups, with considerably different value systems, I selected a kind of lonely nobility.  I try to do the right thing, and I try to avoid people in order to avoid doing the wrong thing to suit them. It is not particularly sociable, but this saves a lot of time.

This may seem very strange to anyone following the chain of thought that goes with my attempts to become more confident and less anti-social, but I think the way I am approaching other people now is better than it was before.  I used to drop everything if someone needed something.  I used to consider how useful I could make myself, and anything I wanted took a poor second place.

The current projects are of sufficient magnitude for this to now be irrelevant.  Smaller tasks from other people, designed to distract and confuse, are now easy to turn down and bigger tasks, for the larger projects are broken into things I can do every day.  It may seem strange to take on enormous tasks for people I do not know, but when they are more interesting, more challenging, and may lead to actual change they seem worthwhile.  I have basically made my absurd helpfulness bigger, more confusing and more abstract in order to achieve an even bigger aim ultimately.

Time will tell if I have selected the correct people to bless with my angle of change, but both Wolfe and Boris are sufficiently intelligent to figure out what is happening and why when the time comes.  It is going to take a long time.

At least is it less boring, even if it does seem odd.

Put the booze down and listen to the orb, Boris. Make it loud.

Looks like the old me is back.  Reading my post from earlier, it is like looking back a decade into cynical reality.  I guess the grief is setting in.

One of the great things this project has done for me is enabled me to network.  I am not a social creature as a rule, but promoting my stuff, when I can be bothered, has meant joining a lot of interest groups as this is cheaper than merely advertising, which is not cost-effective as a rule.

Today I have been entertaining some artists with reasons for my work.  We often ask each other what our work is about, which is good practise as artists all tend to be scruffy, disinterested, and socially isolated unless we are tremendously successful.  We all tend to make the same social mistakes until we are happy with our technical ability, which is, paradoxically, never good enough anyway.  Being forced by circumstances and the ongoing thought that went into the Wolfe project into creating Ina is the only reason I have shown anything to anybody.

My own work has been complicated by the fact that I do not lust after a sufficient number or variety of men.  Given that that is the only reason I am ever compelled to do anything, I really should have spent more time earlier in life just finding men to perve at.  I was more interested in work, and had a steady supply of them, so I guess in artistic terms I have been rather lazy.

Anyway, just to make you laugh a bit, here are some very simplistic meanings behind my work.

 The Misery Mandala

This is what extremely angry sex with me looks like.

 Funk This

This is what it looks like when I decide that I can’t do anything about my inappropriate feelings and need a few weeks to try and surmount it (pun intended)  There was a series of four of these for Wolfe, three of which I liked, one I really don’t is Lucky Heart, because it is about futility and the random nature of sexuality.

 Ormus Uranium

A word gag about the Ormus range of products, popular in the USA and parts of Europe, which are mysterious in nature.  Elements such as gold are very popular with people interested in advanced mysticism, but there is no reason why poisonous elements should not have ormus properties.  It was also a good excuse to send Wolfe flowers.

 Fertility and Intellect

This is a very old piece of work, made for a grumpy history professor I adored at university, who had one of the most punk chainsaw brains I have ever come across.  I do love a bit of mental violence.  It is about the difficulties of retaining your concentration on academic pursuits when you are fertile and female.

 Call me Al

This is for Boris, who has a public persona, and a private one called Al.  I am rather touched by Boris.  He is the best of a very bad bunch, both privately and publicly and deserves better.  The UK would benefit from encouraging and listening to him.

 Bordello Rhetoric

This is the only other piece in the Boris collection that is directly for Boris.  It is about the nature of a political career, hence the title.  It is rather glamorous and bold, which I think is appropriate for Boris rather than Al.

Rebekah Brooks is fit for work

The other pieces in the Boris series are about the nature of success and the lack of fit with actual talent.  Simply declaring oneself fit for a task does not make it so, and most of these pieces either involve scandal of some sort, or just having so much money that nobody is ever going to force you to starve to death, as is happening to several sectors of society whilst wages are lowered via immigration. This will be a lengthy and very expensive series.  Rebekah is sitting in my kitchen, where she actually looks fabulous.  I expected these pieces to be loud and garish in place, but as it turns out they are conversation pieces.  Experimenting with textiles, stone, beads and resin has been expensive, but tremendous fun.

I am not sure why Boris is getting so many rock pools, but evidently I find him more erotic than I expected.  It is very much a sub-plot in my grand epic and entirely fictitious romance with Wolfe, however, so I am not sure how this imaginary love triangle is going to develop in the medium term.

I will do a page for each piece eventually, but hopefully that goes some way to explaining how my creative brain works.

Much affection,

Ina

New Stuff from Ina Disguise

Evil Money – short story

The Perverts – short story

Feel free to have a look at some new material – working on shoes and a couple of bits of furniture for the Boris collection whilst seeking yet more work.

Will be publishing under another name this year for more serious stuff, so this is a period of some upheaval, but I think we can safely say my output is on an upward trajectory due to the avoidance of despair.

As ever, if Wolfe has any objections, he cannot possibly find it difficult to find me and  let me know. I imagine he will find it as funny as I did. Shoes coming soon, and I will be back into game-making shortly as I am trying to avoid thinking at all.

Much affection,

Ina

The three people that I have kept in touch with in the last few years have talked quite a bit of nonsense in the last month or so, mainly due to the apparent distraction of my change in circumstances due to my mother being killed in hospital.

I have also had to tolerate a lot of nonsense from people who don’t know me, on the grounds that there was no point in concealing Ina any more when discussing what I am really interested in given that my cover was blown with the disgusting scum family.

Whilst this is very kind and well-meaning, I have to get something straight, so that I do not have to discuss it in person as being told that I am now free to find some random bloke/travel/whatever mad idea other people have about what would make me happy is driving me slightly mad. My mother was not the only thing keeping my nose to a self-imposed grindstone.

I haven’t changed my mind about the Wolfe issue in nine years.  Yes, I have been miserable, yes I have experienced significant change, and no, I am not likely to have a happy outcome.  That changes nothing.  I am fortunate enough to have at least encountered potential happiness, which is more than most people ever get to do. I’m extremely grateful to him, just for breathing.  I don’t think I’ve ever said that about anyone else. Yes, he still drives me insane. That is OK too. Perfection is extremely dull.

Settling for what is expedient, on the other hand, is not what I would view as a happy outcome.  I do not envy people who have done this, even though they probably believe that they have achieved something by going ahead and settling for what is real in order to obtain their preferred outcome.  I guess this is a matter of circumstance as well as personal choice.  People who want to have fifteen kids, for example, have to make a commitment fairly early in life in order to achieve their aims.

I never wanted this, nor did I prioritise finding a partner.  I was made aware of my responsibilities to my parents fairly early in life, and whilst in many ways could be viewed as being used, have got a lot out of that in terms of what I would call ‘sideways’ growth – I have a lot of strings to my bow, although there is still a lot of development work to get where it is going. That is fine with me.

It is important to remember, even if you hate my work or anyone else’s, that doing something is always better than fearing exposure, no matter what you choose to do.  Other people do not matter.  When you finally realise this, life gets a lot riskier and yet decisions become a lot easier.

Another thing to realise is that my first thought is always about work.  My father was exactly the same.  Love is work, work is love etc etc.  It is probably on the level of a disorder.  It is no fun if it is too easy and the journey is more important than the destination.

So, no, I do not ‘need a man.’  I do not want to settle for anything.  I am not in a hurry to leave my beloved home unless it is worth it, and it definitely won’t be worth it unless I get the current work done.  The work is way more important than anything.  Whilst my remaining priorities are Wolfe, cats and house related, they do not involve expected outcomes in any way whatsoever and never did.  I have my shit to do and that is that. I have no intention of settling for frankly tedious old or new relationships and I am not going to change my mind. There is only one me, and only one him.  The rest of it is tough tittie, frankly.

If any of the people that I am referring to had listened to anything, they would not be raising these issues.  Sometimes you have to self-destruct in order to create something better, whether that is real or a self-created mirage in order to achieve a much more important goal.

I have grown, particularly in the last few months, to fear different things.  I used to fear the fact I was different.  Now I fear narrow-minded stupid people who assume that everything they were taught is real.  They are the real monsters, and I do not plan to remain amongst them to suffer a stunted, stupid death of the soul.