Hey pops, hope you are doing better than me! It’s definetely true what they say, once you hit 28 your body starts to rotten! I’m nearly 30, WTF! (I was 5 yesterday!) I feel like I’m 12, still trying to figure out the sh*t out of my life and here my body decides to give me a taster of years to come, a nice horror trailer.
I had a cold for the last 37 Jurassic ages and every week a new muscle of my body gets strained. Honestly, get done with me now!
Anyways, apart from my usual complaints today I wanted to get away from my usual “sitdownandlistentomyshit” post and move to something more entertaining.
As part of my research for my next piece, I’ve been digging the internet for good documentaries and movies, and there’s one I’ve seen last Saturday that its still running around in the empty spaces of my skull!
Its called “In the Crosswind” or “Risttuules”, a beautiful piece of visual art, that takes place in Estonia during the Siberian post 1940ies Russian deportation of Estonian, Latvian, Lithuanian and other ethnic minorities. Those people were condemned to hard labour work in awful condition, parallel to a concentration camp. The story follows Erna, her husband and their daughter, towards a journey of desperation, suffering and liberation.
So, far you might say “Oh well, clique heart breaker war stories”, correct, it would have been exactly that if they didn’t decide to use tableau vivant as main medium of storytelling. Trust me, the trailer just below doesn’t give justice to the amazing visuals, emotionally charged scenes and beautiful, incredibly beautiful and well thought storytelling.
What I liked the most was the incredible effortless in portraying such an heavy subject with almost a worshiping interest. The director of photography did an amazing job in conveying feeling and emotions through breath-taking scenery. I’m not going to say much more as I don’t want to spoiler it to you; so if you have a couple of hours and you find yourself wasting your time refreshing Instagram feeds, or keep seeing “There’s no one around you” on Tinder, please stop… and watch this piece of art.

Have a nice Sunday folks, just keeping this post simple and breezy.

Will soon update you with something else!

Lots of love 💙,

P.S If you fancy give a stalk I added some new pictures from the “Glasgow Burlesque Festival 2017“, don’t forget to follow me on @hyperion.nyx on Instagram and if you are free on the 1st of December 2017 come and see me at the “Half Moon” show at the Custom House, Leith, where I will be doing a visual art theatre piece!

r”It’s not about passion. Passion is something that we tend to overemphasize, that we certainly place too much importance on. Passion ebbs and flows. To me, it’s about desire. If you have constant, unwavering desire to be a cook, then you’ll be a great cook.” – Thomas Keller

I think a title like this should attract people to read it. As I am a total loser when it comes to SEO, tags and relative sh*t, I can only come up with absurd and luring titles.
Anyways, the main point of this article is I am addicted to men magazines. The style, the gloss, the amazing pictures (and the hot models in it, LOL).
I am like a moth in a wool shop, and devour them, first with my eyes and then I just digest all the words. Sometimes I read so fast that the words and the lines get misplaced, confused, mixed and I don’t know what I am doing, were I am reading, but I carry on, like a marathon, I can’t stop it.
I don’t know what gets me the most, I believe it is down the fact that I truly envy these successful people, not their money, not their beauty (Unless you are Jake Gyllenhaal, then I’m greener than the Witch of Oz). I envy the fact that most of them had a thing, ONE, and they became good at it, they worked on it and progressed till the point were it gave them results.
Me? I bounce from one flower to the other and I seem unable to keep my mind on just one -flipping- main focus. What’s wrong with me, GOSH!
So in a desperate attempt, I dream while reading their stories, and blah blah, the first 45 seconds I am in a super awww-like status, then I realise I hate them, well not really but sorta, they are there on those shiny pages wearing they fucking Dolce and Gabbana that possibly has already abused of 12 kids in China for the making, while looking splendid, and I am here.

So I close the magazine in a rant of pain, and nearly threw it on the other side of the office, I wish I did that, at least it would have been a nice distraction for my colleagues; instead I leave it on the side of my desk. I check it from time to time and hope that the front cover magically has my face instead of the handsome man who invented blablablabla.
C’mon I write a blog, I do boylesque, isn’t enough to be on the front cover of Esquire? Or GQ? I’m funny too and I date pizza! I’m not ashamed!
Apparently not.

Honestly I do feel inspired by these people, but I believe these magazine somehow create a sort of dependency, by passively aggressively proving you are not enough. “You can’t afford this Cartier watch? Too bad… I know, look how amazing it suits him! Only £5000” Who fucking has £5000 for a watch? Also, why on heart do you need it? I know, I know, classic rant of an idiot that can’t reach it, but still. I would have free rent for a year with that money. I start feeling troubled, and can’t stop thinking of Giovanni Verga’s Oyster theory: once you move out from the environment that life projected on you, you basically end up dead eaten by a fish.
So commoners should stay commoners.
Waaaaaah! What do I do with all these beams of light? I mean, I was born to be seen and entertain people. Better limit this pizza to once a week, and go back to my gym, Jake Gylehahwavalallah the game is on, I will show the whole world that I can be on Esquire, GQ, Vanity Fair, with a fucking amazing Primark 100% nylon (yuck!) suit and look fabulous and damned as you do. IT’S WAR.

Also, can anyone explain me why these magazine can’t feature anything under £10? I mean really? WE ARE POOR. I probably had to skip a meal to buy your glossy pages, and this is how you are being grateful to me Esquire? Thanks, no no really, thanks.

“Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.” -Ernestine Ulmer

If I know about something, it’s totally repression, even if I guess is something that we all have to deal with, but it doesn’t have to be confused with respect.

Repression: (rɪˈprɛʃən/Submit) noun

  • the action of subduing someone or something by force.
    “students sparked off events that ended in brutal repression”
    synonyms: suppression, quelling, quashing, subduing, crushing, squashing, stamping out; More
  • the restraint, prevention, or inhibition of a feeling, quality, etc.
    “the repression of anger can be positively harmful”
    synonyms: restraint, restraining, holding back, keeping back, biting back, suppression,
  • keeping in check, control, keeping under control, stifling, smothering, bottling up; More
    the action or process of suppressing a thought or desire in oneself so that it remains unconscious.

I repressed my whole being for nearly 20 years, and it’s not just about sexuality, it’s about being who I am, with my freedom of expression. I’ve done it consciously, somehow even willingly (yeah, being into a cult does mess up with you brain a bit); but now I’m free to be who I am, truly am, and I have the freedom of being free -if this makes sense- and I am so grateful for that. My ex family didn’t really approve, but rather I got compared to a pedophile, a murderer or other nasty things, while at the same time they tried to sweet-coat everything with love, as all the other people that left me behind did. They repeat themselves that they love me, but don’t approve my choices, and they build a wall made of ignorance and judgement. This explains rather clearly my vision on it:
Instagram post

I don’t feel anger, or resentment, I am just sad that these people don’t have the strength to accept their own feeling but obey to a duty. I would rather hear them saying: “I can’t love you the way you are” rather than, “I love only part of you, if you want me to love the rest, well you need to change (repress)”. So I decided that enough is enough, and I made them face their own decision, instead of politically correct swallow their misplaced poisoned love. The answer? A capital-letter: “YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF” written as reply.
I will never be ashamed of my self, I am a strong willed, independent man, that took his life in his hands and decided to not be subdued to bullies anymore, all with grace, calm and kindness; I stood up for my self, when no one did, and I will never betray the smile I see everyday back in the mirror. I know who I am, I try to be a good person, and fight for my survival, my life and at the same time help others on the way.
So yes, I am not ashamed to say to you: “I’m afraid, if you don’t like me the way I am, I rather have you spending your energy elsewhere.” exfamily, exfriends or anyone else.

In 77 countries, it is still illegal being you. Those who belong to the LGBTA+ community get ridiculed, abused, jailed and often killed. I am tired of passively accepting all of that, we don’t deserve it. How would you feel if tomorrow, you as a blond haired person, or red, or tall, or left handed would suddenly be illegal?
Or someone telling you… you know Andy, I love you but I can’t be with you or have you as an active presence in my life unless you dye your hair back to blue, or unless you stop being so tall, or unless you learn how to use your right hand.
Isn’t this repression?
Aren’t we tired of this?
Haven’t we learnt, that boxing and judging PERSONAL choices doesn’t bring anything good?
Why would you also be so much bother by what I do, who I am, if I do my best to respect your freedom, respect your space?
Would you cut anyone out of your life just because he/she doesn’t eat pizza? (Maybe I would hahah)

Who are we in a place to judge?
But we do it, and at the moment 100 gay men are arrested in Chechnya. (Read it here). I’m tired of being powerless, of being subdued, controlled, restraint.
I have faith in humans, we have proved countless of times what greatness we can achieve, how magnificent and perfect we can be. Read it here!
Let’s all rise, let’s all face up our foes, right into the eyes, and as P!nk sad:

“Have you ever looked fear in the face and said I just don’t care?”

We have a duty in this world to fight against injustice and try to make it a better place. It doesn’t take much, we can do it from our thumb (by sharing, tagging, liking, re-posting) for those who aren’t able to do it other way, or go down in the street and peacefully protest the oppression, we can do it with arts and creativity empowering other people to think and process and embrace. I don’t fight only for me, I fight for whole of those ones who have fought before us.
Let’s not hide behind our finger, if we want a world without fears, we better work on it, while in the mean time let’s eat some dessert.

With love ❤, Andy

“We’re hoping to succeed; we’re okay with failure. We just don’t want to land in between.” David Chang

Hello folks, hope life is treating you well!
I had lots of thoughts these past weeks (it happens sometimes when my 2 unique brain cells bump into each other), and yesterday I had a revelation.
I wish I was one of those people who carry a pen. Not any pen, their pen. I am sure you know what I am talking about, they come in different forms, from geeks to desperate mothers, from successful bankers to dream adventurers.
They all have their own pen and when they take it out, it feels like you can hear the roar of the crowd saying: oooooh. (insert an appropriate GIF here); then anything that happens after has a unique feeling to it. It’s not a pen, it’s a projection of their will.
I envy them because I can’t carry pen first of all as I would lose it 32 seconds after acquiring it and then I would most of the time forgetting to have it.
I admit that I gave in the temptation of having one, and had it around for a while, realising a basic truth, not only is a projection of our will but a consolidation of boundaries.
When you are in a shared moment and prompted to carry on an action and have the choice to either use a shared medium or a personal medium, whenever you chose your own personal thing, it’s like saying: “I do it my way”. A subtle way to make sure your individuality gets the recognition that it deserves, and therefore build respect around you.
The reason why some of us can’t carry a pen is because we struggle with having boundaries, as my art therapist said, it feels as we are torn between Duty and Feelings. Therefore we have the need to embark on the process to learn to listen to our authentic self rather than the self-imposed one.
I am not saying that we will all have a pen tomorrow, but maybe Lucio Fontana was right: “I do not want to make a painting; I want to open up space, create a new dimension, tie in the cosmos, as it endlessly expands beyond the confining plane of the picture.”
We need to open up space FOR ourselves, by delimiting the space that others can have in our lives. Houses can only exist if you build walls, and take away some space from the ground, enclosing it into bricks and giving it a new purpose, then you can either keep the doors open or not, but at least you know that there will be a space that now is yours.
Getting free by creating emotional limits to the emotional abuses that somebody can cause you is a rational and constant effort, but it’s worthy because only in those limits you can truly flourish and nourish yourself. Learning to love your soul, as it is, not as other would be able to accept it, and by knowing who you are, you only let in people who are able to appreciate it.
So peeps, next time, try to have your own pen, pencil or use your blood or as in my case, I might just use whatever I see around.

With love ❤, Andy

“We can disagree and still love each other unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist.” – Son of Baldwin

Hello, gorgeous human beings!

I apologise if I didn’t write anything the last week, but I have been into a deep emotional turmoil that left me with little energy. Now I’m back on track, feeling stronger than ever.
Last Tuesday I wanted to talk about a discovery, one of those treasures that you find while looking for something else, or actually when you don’t know what you looking for.
Somehow I am drawn to butterflies, maybe as a symbol of rebirth, and facing difficulties in life.
Therefore while at the bookstore I glazed on The Beautiful Butterflies of North America a “lost-manuscript” that has been recently found, nearly a century after its compilation, in an archive of a national library.
It compiles a work of over 50 years on classifying these wonderful animals; the author: Titian Peale spent pretty much all his life on this project, other than being a beautiful compilation of meticulous drawing and watercolors, enriched by discovery and analysis of the ephemeral life of these creatures, this book got me thinking (I know, sometimes it happens!) an artist dedicated all his life (hopefully he did other things too) to this. I can’t even commit to a favourite ice-cream! Then I realised that life is about to experiences and nourish what makes you thrive. Like water for a fish, or air for a bird. Long are the days of evolution, where our basic role in the world was to reproduce and full-stop. I personally think (don’t quote me on this) that we have outgrown the basic principle of evolution, now we are finally embracing our existence, which is not just merely getting a somehow copy of our genome, but rather find a space on this planet based on our ideas, social attributions, creativity. This place could be physical, a country where we feel more “adapted” to, or emotional (a social cause, an ideal, a hope), and we spend all our life on it. Like Titian Peale did, we find our corner and we thrive in it, somehow, though, this corner activates the old basic instinct of evolution, where I need mine to survive, rather than yours. Therefore we have wars, and moral battles, cause we feel that our ideals and opinions are threatened. I am a promoter of free will, you can do whatever you want, as long as that doesn’t hurt my freedom or abuse my rights.
That’s why I think the “old morals” are old for a reason, and we just need to get over them.
The fact that someone is trans, gay, a single mother, gipsy, Muslim, blonde, ginger, fat or slim or whatever the f*ck u want, it’s not GOING TO KILL YOU, it is not a threat to your life, or to your genome, so just get along with it. If it is a threat to your or some else’s life, then yes, we have an issue, and yes we might need to discuss options.
I have faith in the human, I have seen how much we have grown and learnt from history (hey, we are not throwing rubbish out the windows anymore) and yes, we have lots to learn but I believe we are on the right track.
I know, I know, with all the shit that’s happening in America, North Korea and Russia, and possibly soon France, you might say: “Andy, goodness me, what the heck you talking about? We are going backwards!”.
We aren’t, these are symptoms of part of a human society that had their evolutionary instinct messing up with their ideas, and they are desperately trying to catch back, trying to hold, trying to keep tangled and restrain what they are seeing that is wiggling away.
The last shot, to close eyes and hope that everyone will want your corner. Guess what, we don’t!

Don’t be a bully, evolve, accept and support, and spend your life doing something beautiful, like compiling a manuscript on butterflies, rather than judging me from your crystal tower.