Mornings In Bed - Part IV "Say goodbye to glitter...girl"

Talula just wanted to flirt in the garden.
Not fret.

She also loves the dreamlike fantasy world of Watteau. The magic of theater which is also a basis of who Talula Love Bottoms is.

Who is Talula Love Bottoms by the way? Do you know? For sure?

In his masterpiece "Garsaint's Shop Sign" 1720. Talula is the seated woman who is the focus of the artwork. Just for today.

She wanted to be dancing in the gardens of Versailles amongst the orange trees...but her fear of Louis XIV kept her more of a townie...although; she eventually became more than that as the mistress of Louis XV. Anyhoot...that was just a random Gypsy's prediction to her when she was a child. Who would have thought.

Watteau however paid tribute to the end of an era in this painting by putting ole XIV in a box. Talula likes endings...she likes change; she sits at the table in the sign shop....reading the signs, deciding what her next move is with her gypsy fate. Is Watteau giving her fame in this painting...or is she sitting around waiting for it.

Either way, per this artwork, we don't know the answer because Watteau dies young after sparking the age of extravagance for artists such as Boucher, Jean Marc Nattier and Jean-Baptiste Perronneau....and Theart. B. maybe.

With gold leaf and garnish on her bottom...
off she goes.

Later.

Mornings in Bed Part III - Menage Trois; Delacroix brings Faust (to bed) for Talula

"For the prologue of Goethe's Faust, Delacroix invented a fantastic winged devil, as muscular as a man, with hideous talons, flying over medieval towns as he cast evil spells". He was called Mesphistopheles in the book and when he first appears he is nothing but a stray poodle. Aren't they all.

Talula has fallen for a romantic! However...it was a difficult relationship from the start because she was unable to steal his attention away from his passion for literature...eh, she's only interested in getting him in bed anyway. Literature smitature....

Much like Talula's artwork being inspired by music...
Eugene Delacroix was inspired by literature. More than 100 of his paintings and drawings were derived directly from literary sources. Shakespear, Homer, and the Bible.

Goethe's Faust was to Delacroix what Damien Rice's The Professor is to Talula!

He illustrated
"In Faust's study, the poodle transforms into the devil (Mephistopheles). Faust makes an arrangement with the devil: the devil will do everything that Faust wants while he is here on Earth, and in exchange Faust will serve the devil in Hell. Faust's arrangement is that if during the time while Mephistopheles is serving Faust, Faust is so pleased with anything the devil gives him that he wants to stay in that moment forever, he will die in that instant.

When the devil tells Faust to sign the pact with blood, Faust complains that the devil does not trust Faust's word of honor. In the end, Mephistopheles wins the argument and Faust signs the contract with a drop of his own blood. Faust has a few excursions and then meets Margaret (also known as Gretchen). He is attracted to her and with jewellery and help from a neighbor, Martha, the devil draws Gretchen into Faust's arms. With influence from the devil, Faust seduces Gretchen. Gretchen's mother dies from a sleeping potion, administered by Gretchen to obtain privacy so that Faust could visit her. Gretchen discovers she is pregnant. Gretchen's brother condemns Faust, challenges him and falls dead at the hands of Faust and Mephistopheles. Gretchen drowns her illegitimate child and is convicted of the murder. Faust tries to save Gretchen from death by attempting to free her from prison. Finding that she refuses to escape, Faust and the devil flee the dungeon, while voices from Heaven announce that Gretchen shall be saved."

The Professor
By Damien Rice

Well I don't know if I'm wrong
Cause she's only just gone
Here's to another relationship
Bombed by excellent breed of gamete disease
I'm sure when I'm older I'll know what that means
Cried when she should and she laughed when she could
Here's to the man with his face in the mud
And an overcast play just taken away
From the lover's in love at the centre of stage yeah
Loving is fine if you have plenty of time
For walking on stilts at the edge of your mind
Loving is good if your dick's made of wood
And the dick left inside only half understood her
What makes her come and what makes her stay?
What make the animal run, run away yeah
What makes him stall, what makes him stand
And what shakes the elephant now
And what makes a man?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know
No I don't know you any more
No, no, no, no...
I don't know if I'm wrong
'Cause shes only just gone
Why the fuck is this day taking so long
I was a lover of time and once she was mine
I was a lover indeed, I was covered in weed
Cried when she should and she laughed when she could
Well closer to god is the one who's in love
And I walk away cause I can
Too many options may kill a man
Loving is fine if it's not in your mind
But I've fucked it up now, too many times
Loving is good if it's not understood
Yeah, but I'm the professor
And feel that I should know
What makes her come and what makes her stay?
What make the animal run, run away and
What makes him tick apart from him prick
And the lonelier side of the jealousy stick
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know
No I don't know, I don't know, I don't know
No I don't know, I don't know, I don't know
Hell I don't know you any more
No, no, no no...
Well I don't know if I'm wrong
'Cause she's only just gone
Here's to another relationship
Bombed by my excellent breed of gamete disease
I finished it off with some French wine and cheese
La fille danse
Quand elle joue avec moi
Et je pense que je l'aime des fois
Le silence, n'ose pas dis-donc
Quand on est ensemble
Mettre les mots
Sur la petite dodo

Next time...Talula would like Damien Rice in the room as well...
if he's in Paris anytime soon.
And that story would start like this...
A frenchman, a german and a fine, fine, fine still living and breathing Irish lad stumbled up Talula Love Bottoms....bottoms up.

adieu amoureux!

Mornings in Bed Part II - Pipe Smoking..."as a remedy for the blues".

Talula vaguely remembers the night before. A pub near the Rhone...a few too many drinks; the sky started spinning...dark blues and golds and heavenly gifts of reds and cobalts; and then she saw stars...

Woke up in a little apartment with a guy who hacked off one ear! However...in his youth she was sure he resembled Bradley Cooper! At least that's what she's telling herself as she looks around the room to get a grip on her environment. A small twin bed, a chair, wooden floor...very modest for a fellow who's family apparently had a bourgeois outlook on life. The color was....very....

cornbreadish.

Born yesterday in 1890; another Aries who seemed to also view the world as an intolerable botch..."something that God threw together on one of his bad days".

Having become pretty much unemployable he turned to artwork which lay strewn around his apartment. I was most taken by his sketches.

In Van Goghs art one thing that caught me was that (in his drawings) his figures had a noted grip on the earth. His lines pulled at it.

...As if he resurfaced it with the beauty he wanted to see.

Hmmmm.
He seems nice enough though...although I get the feeling I might catch something from him if I stay much longer????

a demain,
TLB-VG?

Mornings In Bed Part I - Apogee

Apogee

It is with immense pleasure and the desire that I do not die
a death of dullness that I present to you;

Mornings In Bed
a 10 to 20 day series; pending my disastrous mood swings
about....

Ahhhhhhhh...rt.

Part 1
Apogee
Marcel Duchamp and my relationship with him (in bed).

This morning I woke up and put Marcel between my legs.
A humorous man who's love of puns and anagrams started his habit of captioning his works; believed as I often do(not always but sometimes like when the breeze catches my nightie or tossles my recently utubed bangs)THAT in all things there is a need for humor. He, however, did not believe that there was a need for art.
Which was the moment (in bed) this morning when I told him to shut up...in french "Ferme le bouche"...
(because it's the only thing I remember from French class)

Talula believes that art can mend this broken world.(per Shaina) This believe is possibly why her and Marcel get along so well. No reason to agree about everything and well...we are in bed together. So....

My attraction to him is because he was interested in ideas; "I refuse to accept anything on faith. So, doubting everything, I had to find in my work something that had not existed before. And then, of course, once having done something, I didn't want to repeat it."

I didn't want to repeat it
I didn't want to repeat it
I didn't want to repeat it

xoxo...that was me teasing Marcel. He's so sensitive..he was often called shy because he simply had no time for the Cubists (Picasso, Braque, Alexandra Nechita...whom I met once at a gallery in Stone Harbor..she gave me a CD with Glen Hansard on it and some techno.) endless discussion of theory. He whispered in my ear that their artwork lacked humor...of course never saying that Picasso himself was humorless. Just a sexual predator...whhhaaaattttt????

With that Talula boots him out the door and teases him that one of these mornings she'll end up with Picasso in bed as well.
Muah.
xo. TalulaParis.
"Bete comme un peintre" hahahaha. ha.

inquisitions and fears

Artwork: Talula Love Bottoms
Text: Maryanne Pappano

And I can't remember the last time
I saw nothing for something
out here
where the reasons are treason
and the loss
is a gain and vise versa...
never to know you again.
Finally
the color blue crosses my eyes
and it's like the
warm blue of death
like the smell of old roses
from prom
why do we save such dust
why do we cling to yesterdays nothings
in hopes for tomorrows
war stories and fables
leftovers
and
staples.
If I heard you scream I'd laugh aloud
feathers floating across
the path that I chose
as two swallows pluck at each others inquisitions and fears
till
a
single
droplet
of
blood
tickles my scalp
and my feet fall out from under me
as my black hole
belches my soul.

but burn, burn, burn,

"But then they danced
down the street like dingledodies,
and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life
after people who interest me,
because the only people for me are
the mad ones,
the ones who are mad to live,
mad to talk,
mad to be saved,
desirous of everything at the same time,
the ones who never yawn or
say a commonplace thing,
but burn, burn, burn,
like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding
like spiders across the stars
and in the middle you see the blue center-light pop and everybody goes "Awww!"
-Jack Kerouac

Travel....In the blue part of the evening

Talula is on the road again...
Where will she land this time?

In search of selflessness!

..maybe a little peace and a tree house for a studio?
a yoga platform and
nature as music?

Artwork: TheartB
Song: Gypsy Death and You
Artist: The Kills

You knock on her door
She don’t recognise your voice no more
So she got on an aeroplane
Na na na na na so long after
Strip down from the fever
Laid down in a hotel bed
Wouldn’t take no phone calls at all
Didn’t want no more voices in her head

And that’s the way that you feel
And that’s the way that you feel
And that’s the way that you feel honey know
That’s the way that you feel

In the blue part of the evening
Sometimes its hard
She thinks she hears you coming
But she’s stuck against the wall
Oh she wants what she wants
So she do what she do
But now she looks at you
She covers one eye 'cause she can see into your mind
She no longer wants to

And that’s the way that you feel
And that’s the way that you feel
And that’s the way that you feel honey know
That’s the way that you feel