Porcelain Raft covers "Come as you are"

This is special.

* Jason Webley at the Underbelly - 25th August 2011

Ha.

I was looking forward to this one.

Not only because live music is necessary to one's life, but also because Jason is probably the best live performer around.
I was in Reading yesterday for the festival and Muse closed the three muddy days in excellence and a raving crowd. One could feel the energy from miles away, and the set, the lights, the visuals, the fires... I appreciate all of this, it's show-biz, right?
and yet, when it comes to really, *really* loving a musician, it's people like Jason that really touch my heart. With his accordion, his feet stomping on the ground, the intimate venue and his heart poured on a silver plate for those who are willing to listen to him.
Maybe it is the fact the he is approachable. Maybe it is the fact that you see the roads he traveled through his eyes, or hear the mighty trombones in his voice. Maybe it's how much he give to the audience and their incredible response. Maybe... it is his willingness to explore everything whilst staying close to his essence. Maybe i'm wrong. But maybe not. And if i'm not, maybe it is just that Jason is awesome, end of story. No special effects required.

Ps. Jason was supported by another wonderful artist: Thomas Truax. He has a one night per month in Soho at the Spice of Life. I am going to see him there soon, i look forward to finding out more about this artist.

JIGSAW campaign by Bella Howard :)

Photos by Bella Howard

Styling by Margaret Crow

Hair Alex Brownsell

Make up Martina Luisetti

Photo assistants Olivia Richardson and Jessy Boon Cowler

Stylist assistants Anna Walker and Jeanie Annan Lewin

Make up assistant Kristina Vidic

Hair assistant Stef Gaffa

Models: Anna Brewster @ Union

              Clara Paget @ Union

              Julia Johanson @ Elite

Click here for Bella's blog

* This one is SPECIAL.

Ooooh this was a little too much to take, i must admit.

My granpa's letters keep popping out from forgotten drawers and i keep scanning them, to send them to my family, as a memory of that wonderful crazy man he was.
But this one somehow is special and it brought me down on my knees big time.
Biggest laugh through tears i had in a long time, thank you Granpa.
I'll come by the Nelson statue soon.
And you'll be happy to know i have voted against Berlusconi too. I didn't even have to leave the house, cause in England you can vote by post.
I can hear you ranting against Berlusconi for hours, i find it quite awesome that you would find the strength to lift your ass from bed to vote against him. Cause that's important.

I love you so much.



"Dearest Martina,

I have lost your address and so do you know what i am going to do? I make an appointment with you in front of the statue of Nelson, let's say tomorrow at midday. . .
I am joking, in front of Nelson you would only find my soul and so much love for my dear niece, who i miss dearly, i confess.

I immagine you working hard, walking around seeing things, making a career out of what you love.
Great. You will tell me everything when i see you in Rome, soon I hope.

Here life goes on through its inevitable paths, for me at least: 'Sedentary man' is my job title, but also because of some unwanted and maybe undeserved lack of health.
Tomorrow we go to vote, and it is already a great motive to leave the house. To swindle Berlusconi is something that doesn't happen everyday! Although in Italy a polling station is never out of hand, if you want to tell people you really don't like them.

As for our more modest things, what can i say to you that you don't already know?
The granma is at the hospital where she has had an operation only yesterday at her legs' arteries: they were slightly obstructed and therefore she was struggling to walk normally. The operation went well and hopefully within two/three days she will be dismissed.

A big kiss to you. I hug you tight, hoping that once in a while you have a loving thought for this granpa who is far away and a little annoying too.

Guido Senior.

Rome, May 27th 2006"

* What the hell am I doing here.

* One of my ones.

My heart became a drunken runt
On the day I sunk in this shunt
To tap me clean
Of all the wonder
And the sorrow I have seen
Since I left my home


My home, on the old Milk Lake
Where the darkness does fall so fast
It feels like some kind of mistake
Just like they told you it would
Just like the Tulgeywood


When I came into my land
I did not understand
Neither dry rot, nor the burn pile
Nor the bark-beetle, nor the dry well
Nor the black bear


But there is another
Who is a little older
When I broke my bone
He carried me up from the riverside


To spend my life
In spitting-distance
Of the love that I have known
I must stay here, in an endless eventide


And if you come and see me
You will upset the order
You cannot come and see me
For I set myself apart
But when you come and see me
In California
You cross the border 
Of my heart


Well, I have sown untidy furrows
Across my soul
But I am still a coward
Content to see my garden grow
So sweet and full
Of someone else's flowers


Sometimes I can almost feel the power
Sometimes I am so in love with you
Like a little clock that trembles on the edge of the hour
Only ever calling out "Cuckoo, cuckoo"


When I called you
You, little one
In a bad way
Did you love me
Do you spite me
Time will tell if I can be well
And rise to meet you rightly
While, moving across my land
Brandishing themselves
Like a burning branch
Advance the tallow-colored walleyed deer
Quiet as gondoliers
While I wait all night, for you in California
Watching the fox pick off my goldfish
From their sorry, golden state
And I am no longer
Afraid of anything
Save the life that, here, awaits


I don't belong to anyone
My heart is heavy as an oil drum
And I don't want to be alone
My heart is yellow as an ear of corn
And I have torn my soul apart
From pulling artlessly with fool commands
Some nights I just never go to sleep at all
And I stand
Shaking in my doorway like a sentinel
All alone
Bracing like the bow upon a ship
And fully abandoning
Any thought of anywhere
But home, my home
Sometimes I can almost feel the power
And I do love you
Is it only timing that has made it such a dark hour
Only ever chiming out "Cuckoo, cuckoo"


My heart, I wear you down
I know, gotta think straight
Keep a clean plate
Keep from wearing down
If I lose my head
Just where am I going to lay it


For it has half-ruined me to be hanging around
Here, among the daphne blooming out of the big brown
I am native to it, but I'm overgrown
I have choked my roots on the earth, as rich as roe
Here, down in California

* Tom Waits inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

This is a GREAT day for music.


"They say that I have no hits, and that I'm difficult to work with. And they say that like 
it's a bad thing." 
Tom Waits




The thing is... One has got to give it one's all.
If you ask me: Tom Waits is all there is to know about life.

"And to be honest, it’s only when artists like Waits get in that we find ourselves caring—when we get the feeling that an outsider has crashed the party."

(Matt Melis) 


Read the hommage to Tom Waits

* -I have lived for Love, I have lived for Art.-

I took this picture on a grey day somewhere in the woods, my beloved Ellen Rogers was shooting.

I looked at her creating this wonderful set, these poses, with such care, such love.

A bond somewhere in between art and love and i couldn't wait to see it through her eyes also.

Useless to say: the pictures she took were incredible.

You can see them on the latest Vice Magazine.

This is for Ellen from me.

* Le parole di un amico.

Mi viene in mente una bambola, il suo sorriso che stona con gli occhi spenti, eppure e' li.
Se vedeste quello che c'e' dietro davvero chissa' cosa ne pensereste.

Queste da un amico che ovviamente ha intravisto qualcosa.
Si pensa che la corazza sia inpenetrabile senza il proprio permesso, poi qualcuno accenna qualcosa di questo tipo e ti ritrovi spiazzata, e ci continui a pensare.

E pensi che, forse, se lo scrivi da qualche parte lo elimini dalla tua memoria.

Dubbiosamente, vediamo un po'.

E poi, ancora parole. Belle bellissime parole.



E' una questione di incredulita', that's all it is.

Because I believe in altruistic love ONLY.

The Invitation.

"it doesn’t interest me

what you do for a living.

I want to know

what you ache for

and if you dare to dream

of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me

how old you are.

I want to know

if you will risk

looking like a fool

for love

for your dream

for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me

what planets are

squaring your moon...

I want to know

if you have touched

the centre of your own sorrow

if you have been opened

by life’s betrayals

or have become shrivelled and closed

from fear of further pain.

I want to know

if you can sit with pain

mine or your own

without moving to hide it

or fade it

or fix it.

I want to know

if you can be with joy

mine or your own

if you can dance with wildness

and let the ecstasy fill you

to the tips of your fingers and toes

without cautioning us

to be careful

to be realistic

to remember the limitations

of being human.

It doesn’t interest me

if the story you are telling me

is true.

I want to know if you can

disappoint another

to be true to yourself.

If you can bear

the accusation of betrayal

and not betray your own soul.

If you can be faithless

and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty

even when it is not pretty

every day.

And if you can source your own life

from its presence.

I want to know

if you can live with failure

yours and mine

and still stand at the edge of the lake

and shout to the silver of the full moon,

“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me

to know where you live

or how much money you have.

I want to know if you can get up

after the night of grief and despair

weary and bruised to the bone

and do what needs to be done

to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me

who you know

or how you came to be here.

I want to know if you will stand

in the centre of the fire

with me

and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me

where or what or with whom

you have studied.

I want to know

what sustains you

from the inside

when all else falls away.

I want to know

if you can be alone

with yourself

and if you truly like

the company you keep

in the empty moments."

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

* Piers Atkinson Look Book AW11

Amazed.
Once again.
<3

* Eye Opener.

I cannot stop listening to this track. It's just perfect.
For so many reasons...................

The Alchemy Series: Concept and Photography by Jez Tozer. Styling by Kim Howells.

Another collaboration with the wonderful Kim Howells :)

Jez Tozer launched his new project (part one of four) of the Alchemy series called Negredo: a fusion of art and fashion, if you ask me, of the highest levels.

The independently produced project will be hard to find and sent only to a very selected part of the industry... so keep an eye out ;-)
And also check Jez's other collaboration with Showstudio.com called Raven starring Billie Piper and styled by Karen Binns.

What a great way to end the year :)))

The Alchemy Series: 1.1 Negredo - concept and photography by Jez Tozer. Styling by Kim Howells.

Model Kasia Wrobel @ Select
Hair Adrian Clark @ CLM
Make up Martina Luisetti using Mac
Make up assistant Amaranta Bea
Set Alun Davies
photographic assistant Rik Patel
Hair assistant Mel Pearce
Set assistant Xan Ashley
Hand processing Barb Wilson
Deconstructed colour landscapes, re-printed using silver emulsion by the artist Walter Hugo
Special thanks to Cassandra Maxwell @ CLM
Production Edie Rohl.

Photo 1: Headpieces by Pam Hogg and Piers Atkinson, Dress by Craig Lawrence
Photo 2: Headpiece by Keko Hainswheeler, Catsuit by Hannah Marshall, Shoes by Pam Hogg
Photo 3: Customized headpiece using mask by Piers Atkinson and props by Alun Davies, Dress by Hannah Marshall
Photo 4: Headband by Keko Hainswheeler, Dress by Dr Noki

* collaboration with Piers Atkinson for Machine A

....Kim called and asked if I didn't mind popping around to stamp a golden lip on a mannequin for Piers windows at machine A... Knowing the team i'd have spent a day with I said yes right away.
The result was...Hot as Hell, Is it ok to say I quite fancied the mannequins myself?? super sexy stuff.



(The first two pics are from Anna Trevelyan's blog, mine came out all red and not nice at all...)

 

Anna's pic

Anna's pic

Me and Piers with... Kate.

windows credits

Kate's lips <3

The Team: Piers Atkinson, Kim Howells, Alun Davies, Reuben Esser, Daisy Newman. Models Kate and Neil.

* the Screaming Dead - Paint it Black

Thanks to Paul Joyce for sharing this gem. I have looked for it online everywhere in a digital version but couldn't find it... so I uploaded a link to it, and here it is:

paint it black mp3

* Piers Atkinson Look Book photos by Ellen Rogers

Everytime I think Ellen has surpassed herself and she could not impress me any more... She manages to pull something like .......THIS.

I gasped when i saw the pictures.
And here I say this is the best job i've ever been part of.

Piers's works of art are something i could build my house with. Basement to roof.

A perfect day... And a perfect team.
and kudos to Kim Howells for linking everything together and Alun Davies for creating the magic set in what became the garden of wonders.

Awww...this whole shoot is exactly the reason why i want to do my job.

Client: Piers Atkinson
Stylist: Kim Howells
Model(s): Chloe Watson
Model Agencies: Storm Models
Set Designer: Alun Davies
Make Up: Martina Luisetti
Hair: Kenna
Make up assistant: Chiaki Azuma
Stylist assistant Reuben Esser

* Know that when you leave, by blood and by me, you walk like a thief.

.

* 160, Higham Hill.

I  lay there on the sofa, the sun is coming in through the blinds, i think of the people who will truly understand what this post means... and one of the worst times of our lives, a time we all shared in that place. I hear kids playing outside in the schoolyard.

Time stands still in this house, as nothing happened.

But i recognize the light, the odours, the space, the colours, the sounds that my steps make. 

I lay there and a song comes to mind: a song i want to dedicate to this people, to us, to say how proud i am of what we all became and how much i love you.

Iggy, Fab, Mandy: this is for you with a big smile. And a toast to more and better times that will bring us even closer, I love you..

xxx

The Last Tuesday Society's Danse Macabre.

Danse Macabre - October 29th, 2010.

I borrowed a song.

I borrowed a song, i'm lending you a song.

Possibility.

* 'Discorso nel cielo.'

5 Gennaio 2006,

Un regalo prezioso.

* Later that same day the

girl who smelled of honey and smoke sat at the desk and lit fires to the town. She had Bianca start at one house and work in a descending circle, burning it all down. She then collected the papers in a stack, tied it with ribbon, and placed it in a box she titled Light Box.

(Shayne Jones)

* A poem from Nonno Guido for you, Martina.

This poem has been on my beloved Musante picture frame for at least one year now, I used to read it once in a while, it was one of the sweetest things I have ever read and it's a poem from my grandpa.
We used to write to each other often, old school letters with a stamp and everything, I would seal mine with  sealing wax, red, or purple, cause grandpa understood all forms of art.
Sometimes I'd put pictures of my London life that I had printed and hand-cut for him and not long ago he had found one and he put it in his lounge, next to all the the ones he liked the most: it was a picture of me and my mum near the house of parliament when she came to visit me in London.

We stopped writing letters to each other when I was working too hard and doing ridiculous hours, but it was always on my mind. I need to write to him, I'd think, in the middle of some job or travel, but just wouldn't do it most of the times. I have no regrets, he knows how much i loved him, but tonight unspoken words are on my mind and in this case, like in others, they are a reminder of how much i hate them.

Unspoken words are always damaging.
Tonight I don't want them, It's too lonely here for unspoken words. Tonight I want to hear the ones that make me go home in a heart beat.



"A poem from Grandpa Guido for you,  Martina: Your return to London."

The plane has landed
on time, by memory,
and in London has landed
your young story.

Another flight, another journey,
your english life
preceded by wisdom
through your courteous emigration.

A wanderer's path
that blossoms with time:
the Patience, the value of
wanting to know more.

But already your thought comes back here
where you turn your face,
while up north flies
your sweet smile.

Guido Montana

(I miss you so much.)

* The past is a grotesque animal.

Drew once shared this song with me.

* August 19th, 2010. The Distance.

Cards of a woman holding a shield. 
And a man, holding a shield. 
There is an angel between them, pouring water on the dirty shields that fell to the floor. 
They can only find each other through Distances. 


I go away,
I look back.
I leave footprints in the sand: signs of thoughts that felt like warmth.
The field is too vast and the sea is too far.


So i go again. 


The footprints washed away. 
The warmth taken by the northern wind.
The man swallowed by his field.

* His heart beats.

I took this photo at Big Chill festival, it was one of those perfect split seconds to be lucky enough to catch.

I love it so much i probably cannot explain... It's purity, happiness, bliss, unawareness, desire to be back to that special place, for one split second.

Thank you little kid for this picture, i wish i could find a way to give it to you.

love,

Martina.

* BABALON: A collaboration with Ellen Rogers, Tomihiro Kono, Rose Ford.

.....I have no words for the beauty of this.

Photos by Ellen Rogers
Head pieces/Hair by Tomihiro Kono
Styling by Rose Forde
Make up by Martina Luisetti
Model Francesca *