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beatnikbazaar's profile beatnik / Female / Member since September 2008 / Last seen 2 days ago

i grew up poor on the banks of the Zambezi River. My father was a parrot breeder and during the war there wasn't much need for that sort of thing so we would travel far, seeking dancing jobs in burlesque houses or telling fortunes at african fairs. My father grew fat and lazy on Egyptian camel sausage and my mother grew tired of his apathy so she piled me into her leather suitcase, amongst her corsets and sequinned tap shoes, and we headed for the south. The new land was ripe and yielded strange fruits and heady potions. The streets were lined with opium dealers and apocatheries. I would help my mother read palms and crystal balls in the market square by day and by night I'd bind feet and tether boned costumes for my mothers fellow dancers backstage at "La maison d'Horreurs." I'd sleep in the shoe closet and still to this day, sweat and sequins remind me of my childhood. By the time I was older I was sneaking out at night, frequenting jazz bars, fascinated by the cigar smoking, whiskey drinking, poetry sprouting youthful men who dotted the air with politics and theatre. Their passion excited me and they smelt of mystery and the underworld. I was taken by the sounds of dixieland, jazz and blues, writing my own melancholic chansons. beatnik became my muse.

My Blogs

beatnik bazaar

http://www.beatnikbazaar.blogspot.com

my blog is about my dream to open a retro and handmade inspired shop and all the things i would stock it with and all the things that catch my eye, design trends and othe…