Enough of this fluff and crap. Let’s get back into my head. It’s a hell of a lot more interesting, as the traffic logs for this site show.
One of the many curiosities that can be found floating about the labyrinth of my mind is an inexplicable fascination with Björk.
By all means, take your time. I can wait while you pick yourself up off the floor.
Björk, for those not familiar, is an intensely bizarre musician. Her art is experimental and tempermental, and while I am not a fan, it does bear listening to. Once at least.
It’s not her music that fascinates me. It’s her appearance.
Go find a picture of her. Here, or here or here. She has a distinctive appearance.
So distinctive, in fact, that I have trouble deciding if she’s pretty or not. It’s almost like my mind slides off her appearance (like water off a duck’s arse, as the saying goes) whenever I try to figure this out. This by itself is fascinating.
Her ability to drastically alter her appearance, and yet remain distinctively herself is amazing too. Much like her music, her appearance is often experimental and off the beaten path. Of course, this can be said for a lot of other people, like Madonna or Michael Jackson, but one’s an attention whoring freak while the other is a child molester, so it’s not really the same thing.
Given the unusual nature of her appearance, and my complete inability to judge her beauty (or lack thereof), is it any wonder she occupies a larger place in the maze of my mind than one would expect?
I’ve always thought she was pretty. But that shirt make me want to hang out with her.