Gore Gore Girls #01 : Snow Red’s Pandorum

a beginning with an apple…

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Long ago, way back before snow white was captured by that snobbish prince when she was asleep only to be imprisoned in the castle later…she was a little girl. A lovely and cheerful little girl too…and she used to be called Rose White, with a lovely twin sister called Rose Red. They lived in the middle of the feral forest with their single mother.

The twin sisters always going around everywhere together—inseparable. They might’ve been living forever together, happily loving sisters ever after, if only their mother wasn’t  a fugitive witch; whom ran away from her sisterhood who wants her to sacrifice the oldest one of her twin daughter, in their offering of their Blood Moon ritual. For the twins were born underneath the precise, correct count of the blood moon; the moon that only came once a year. She almost succeed in hiding their happy little family…but as the girls grew up, they became more noticeable—and harder to hide, stronger in charms that her ever weakened dark magic couldn’t covert them anymore.

So eventually, in a desperate attempt to anticipate her soon to be visiting old sisterhood, she asked the older daughter to run and hide far, far deep in the woods. To never even gave their house a visit or a peep, before the next 4th Red Moon was over. She gave her one strong protective spell so that she couldn’t be killed. And giving her charmed leather choker to disguise her witching aura so that she’s harder to be detected.

But Rose White, the older girl, was having an ill luck by her 1st Red Moon in the woods. It was the time when the seven dwarves  come out from their little filthy dark cave, and trying to look for glimmering enchanted things that would shone mischievously underneath  the witching moon. The dwarves caught Rose White when they encountered her, and took her home as one of their loots of the night. Then they shackled her in their house, to clean their place, cook their food and and to be their gimp; their sex slave for as long as it would please them. Rose White wasn’t happy, and the seven brothers were gross and having ill taste of things—but every time she tried to runaway, she failed. And she could never kill her self for she was protected under her mother’s protective  spell. She tried various way already, you see; every time the dwarves makes her more and more revolted of her body. But such an ill fate she had; she never succeed in ceasing to exist. The dwarves named her Snow White as a mockery, for her looks became so pale and sad and fragile just like a little piece of snow. Sexually almost unappealing, just like a random snow piece would…she should be grateful that they still want to fuck her nevertheless; they said.

While back at their cozy little shed, Rose Red never knew why would her sister left her all of a sudden. And her mother only said that she runaway, and asked her never to talk about it anymore. She felt sad and betrayed and abandoned. For she loves her sister very much, and it never occurs to her mind that her sister would ever ever want to leave her. Her sadness, eventually by time, turned into hatred, and she grew sinister. There’s a swirling hole inside her where her most beloved sister used to be, which never became filled in, no matter how much fellow woods inhabitants she take to fuck the void away.

4 Red Moon passed, and Rose White never came home. Then 5 Red Moon passed…the mother begin to giving up in secretly trying to look for her daughter. She mourn and she mourn and blame herself, and finally her old body knew how depressed she feel, and for the body think that its existence no longer wanted, it turns it self off. Rose Red bury her mother’s body underneath the 6th Red Moon. Her anger and hatred grew ever so big as she filled in with more despair. She curse at the moon, before her mother’s grave, and wishing that she never had any sister to begin with. But what her mother failed to inform her, in spite of her years of mourning and searching for her other daughter, was that the Red Moon was powerful. The energy of death, even without blood sacrificing, was powerful enough to grant one little wish—so then she cease to have any sister. Instead, she merge into her sister body, two souls inside one body: shackled inside the dwarves cave.

For the Red Moon is wicked…you always have to be careful, of what you wanted.

They became a very hateful and despaired one body of a freshly matured girl, conflicted inside her brain, and imprisoned in the dwarves  cave. But Rose Red wasn’t like Rose White, who merely grew sad. She eventually ignore her sister’s endless crying and frightened screams when she killed every each of the dwarves. Tear their penis off when they try to fuck her, and slaughtering them one by one with a knife she easily access for she is the one who do stuff in the kitchen, and because they are half her size, and they are ignorant enough to not expecting her anger to come. It was winter by the time, so its simply fair to say that the girls actually deserved the name Snow Red—not only because they are two girls inside one pale body—Snow White and Rose Red; but for they are also the first girls that painted the snow with red…in that woods.

Snow White almost non-existent in the body anymore…she merely curled up inside, wails and dwells in her endless misery while Rose Red took almost full control of the body. She freed them from their shackles and linger in the woods, looking for more. For more things that she could threw her hatred into—for the more her avenges are paid, the more she is craving for more fills. It fills her with more raging power, but also made her ever hungrier and thirstier. She simply wants to paint everything red.  She lived by her way for some while, before eventually the old sisterhood acknowledge the recent ruckus of slaughters happening in the depth of the woods.

To avoid the mere little trouble of her coming at them if somehow she founds out about their previous intent, they send one of them to kill the twin girl. Ah just how very easily she is lured to the magical poisoned apple, and turned half-dead—because again, she is still half-protected by the deceased-mother’s protective spell. Poor Snow Red, again she fail in ceasing to exist.

She merely lay there, freeze and pinned on the ground, consumed by the wretched spirits that are lingering in the forest…not alive, nor dead…for fuck know how long.

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Of course, this was before the snobbish prince came and rape her in her sleep (or perhaps : comatose state) and made her choke the piece of the poisoned apple out. The he imprisoned her in his castle and call her the princess of his heart; that he liberated her from a curse—with simply kissing her. As if such thing is possible. And Snow Red it is, but he said to the people that her name is Snow White. This time not as a mockery,  but as a disguise, to make her sounds fragile and charming, while actually she starts to frighten him.

In the end though, Snow Red devours that lying coward of a prince…and then she’s finally having her long awaited death—being burned on a crucifix, by the people that keep screaming to her: Witch. Alas, she never really was. A witch. Shame that those people never acknowledge their mum in her glory time.

And shame that it never occurs to her before, that good old fire could ever do both of the things they wanted : to rest, and to paint things red. 

snow red's pandorum photo snow-red-pandorum_zpsfa37b113.jpg

*This fairly short story is an adaptation from the tale of Snow White, and Fables.


On the other note, I am recommending you to use audiobook, as an alternative to music/mp3 as a sweet company to do solitary works. When music gotten boring, or triggering you to be sentimental and/or restless in time needed to simply focus and use your hands-eyes working on things. Or when you’re conflicted between continuing your long-delayed works, but you also want to finish some books for its been a while ever since..

At least for me; audiobooks feels like the good old time of late nite horror stories from radio broadcasts in childhood times, or the feeling of listening to my grandpa’s random fiction stories that he sometimes told me when he still alive—not always before sleeping—but usually at nights. It’s nice. Actually I think that is why I like making up stories along with my drawing—which actually is supposed to be an inherent part of the story it self. Story is the joy out of words and visuals, anyway. I like being told stories…and one can only try to give what it’s like to get, ay. An effort is an effort..

Back to audiobooks. If you’re lucky enough, books that you like would already be recorded (if you’re super lucky–it is performed by the author itself) and mostly available on torrent portals; thanks to anonymous people that spent times to share it for free, and people that strive to maintain such portals non-profit such as The Pirate Bay (on the link: the movie about the pirate bay’s struggle against lawsuits from the giant riches…against piracy). Be grateful and help seeding when the torrent is lack of seeder and the stuff is good. And if you’re even capable of, support those kinds of portal too–financially would be the simplest way. For of course maintaining their servers need financial supports.

In a topic of getting desk/indoor-tasks done (involves, for me, writing/translating shit or drawing/painting) turning off phone and/or internet while doing it also might be a good idea. The internet could be so distracting (and it only made me keep on delaying things that I have to do, for no necessary reason) and fill up my head with too many information that are not even useful for me, mostly. Internet, phone and the feeling of ‘being connected and fairly informed’ is relatively good, and could be useful at times, for I do admit that there is a joy in staying in touch with friends from time to time. But I reckon I should give it only sometime of the day, not the entire day/week/month. Well, but it can always just me being easily distracted tho…

While in a topic of outdoor works and/or social times–why internet, and why audiobooks, right?

Fuck them both, enjoy the moment while it last!  🙂

Categories: visuals, words | Tags: , , ,

Halloween Kirigami Card

When I was a very very young little girl, one of the thing that I found fun is making my own handmade cards for my friends or teachers at school or my family members and take it to their door if they live in my town; or send it via post if they don’t. I used to spent extra time thinking about how the card should look, based on what I think/feel about the person…so each cards are different. Different materials, different drawings, and patched with different random objects that reminds me of each of the person too–be it dried leaves, or little seeds, or scrapes of papers, etc. Usually I give it on times that I deemed special.

Eversince the era of texting and internet of course, most of my joys of little manual habits are lost…and this one, too. But last year my school made me do this Kirigami related task, so while I’m at it, I made a Halloween card because it was October. (Exactly last year, huh?) I only tagged this picture to several friends–then just after doing it, I got to remember how I like making personal cards for my friends. Ha. Internet and digital communication are so tempting because it’s easier and cheaper and faster, etc. But the manual always feel more personal, and personal stuff always have more charms in my mind. Though ay…charms are luxurious.

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This one was made with toned paper and random black marker, and of course, a sharp cutter. 🙂

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Dear Twinnie

“My darkness is shining, your darkness is shining.”

Just like the song sez.

05 - 00 - 2011 water lilies raw photo 05-00-2011waterliliesraw_zpsc4ebb396.jpg


05 - 01 - 2011 water lilies digital photo 05-01-2011waterliliesdigital_zps76f7b270.jpg

in the search of a forgotten glowing pearl, the seaweed kid was embraced by lovable six-eyed geminis.

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This picture is meant to visualize “time”;  I drew this one on 2011; a year which felt brutally slow for me because of some personal stuff. Back then I imagined a figure, not necessarily me, and it’s (in this drawing—it’s inspired by an old character called The Plague doctor // The Agony) standing still in a fast-moving world; the clock was ticking with heavy noises on its head, the current was dragging to move back, and things looked flat and greyscaled, but the figure couldn’t move anywhere. It was stuck in the middle of intensified swirls.

At the moment of these kinds of condition, I assume one can only tries its best to move with a forward energy (visualized in the outward-looking eyes). Even though the current condition force the psych eyes to only look inside and dwells in its misery. The snake was picturing sweet-lovely energetic people who are being supportive and helping to plant these kinds of energy for their friends, at times of need. Fortunately they were tangled to the plague, and coming along with it.

04 - 00 - 2011 drawing time raw photo 04-00-2011drawingtimeraw_zps3b1f7fb2.jpg

The writing above the sketch: by then I just realized how consistency, and synchronization of words and deeds indeed possess such a great value. (If a person is consistent to walk its talk, then lets hear em for real!)


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this is after I cleaned the drawing on photoshop, and did tiny bit of lay out so I could print it out if anyone wants to have it.

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I grew up with this familiar phrase; ‘auzubillah himinas syaiton nirodjim’ which in arabic means ‘I shelter my self under Allah protection, from the damned satan’.

My parents and my teachers (I grew up in moslem school) made me threw up that magic spell everytime I feel afraid or alone or paranoid of satan’s existence around me. They also made (now I would say it’s sort of brainwashing) night games or exercises where they would make us walk one by one thru graveyard and places that are supposed to make us scared—where in time to time, someone would try to frightened us with sounds and surprises and stuff. And we are expected to say the magic phrase to get rid of the scary object/person/being.

But apparently it only made me became fascinated with every condemned being. This drawing I named ‘Nirodjim’ (the cursed/damned), for the love and hate for the condemned.

03 - 00 - 2011 drawing nirojim photo 03-00-2011drawingnirojim_zpsc26cb02d.jpg

I drew this with pen, and did the shading with graphite pencil…then I wonder can I change the pencil shading and tone it in photoshop?
then I played with it a bit, and put some colors. But then again, it turned up pretty rigid and too colorful I guess. Someday I should spent more time playing with photoshop…(yes I realize I do use ‘someday’ a lot). heh.

I make this picture out of a weird dream that I had, about a briefly-known friend looking pretty beaten up; blood was gushing from its teeth and slowly flowing from it’s hairline to the face, and the face were slightly swollen and bruised, eyes were filled with bloodshot. The person looked surprised and puzzled with its own confusion (is symbolized with the teasing snake). It was a pretty slow-mo dream, leaves are slowly moving when the person moves around. Then someday I saw the person actually got beaten up; and it looked exactly like this. Except the scaly hair of course. Strange, strange….

And of course, you don’t have to believe it.

03 - 01 - 2011 drawing nirojim dijital photo 03-01-2011drawingnirojimdijital_zps3012cf12.jpg

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Negasi – a short lived teenager band

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If you don’t know who this guy is, you probably wouldn’t be interested in listening to this track.

Even though IF you actually do know who he is–it still doesn’t guarantee you’ll be interested, too. he.

In 2009, me and my friends make a band called Negasi. It was my first band. And it was super short-lived. We only played for like 4 times–2 times when it was still called Orstresstra, and 2 more times after we’ve changed the name into Negasi. We made like 4 songs; but only ended up recording one—which was even merely intended for us, not for public; it was intended to remember the song for the next practice. But we never made another recording before we finally dispersed to different place.

So…why this man? He is Ted Kaczynski—the primitivist that the media called ‘terrorist’. By then, we think that he’s  right…our modern life is shit, and we’ve been robbed from our instinct and became this pathetic human being.

The song that being recorded called ‘domesticated’.

I made this lyric…which is meant to be ‘simple and easy to undersand’; I don’t know if we gain that purpose.

May 31, 2009 at 7:42am

You’re gettin’ square..
can’t see your own cages
we’re domesticated
tame, dumb, and neurotic
what a pathetic…breed.

(I fuckin’ hate you!
yeah you wanna beat me??
beat me like animal!!)

When I said sleep, you said home
when I said play, you said pay
when I said make friends, you said business.
When I said feral, you said park
when I said art, you said gallery
..when I said spiritual, you said religion
When I said wild nature, you said it’s not for us.

Me and one of my best friend Ezy was on vocal. He was the one who added those expression words in brackets. Ezy also play the guitar, Samsu on bass, Acil play the guitar too, Babam was supposed to play drum–he do it digitally on this record because that was supposed to be briefing. Ends up he quit, and Dipo played the drum when we get to play in shows. Also, when we’re playing live…it ends up being different kind of tune, haha. Which was why we need two guitarists probably.

If you’re somehow interested in listening to it, here’s a free download link.

Also, wastedrockers once was being sweet and reviewed our band.

Categories: sounds, words | Tags: , , , ,

The beginning of this archive…

…should start with putting on my old old drawing//painting I guess. Because process is the thing that I deemed important–result never was the only point that matter. Meh. But sure I would only add some…adding everything would be too annoying for me, hehe. Also for you, of course.

These are the ones I still have documentation on, too. I’ve lost most of em, or gave them away to my friends, or my (now deceased) grandpa—the sweetest person ever stayed in my life so far; who always seems happy to collect my random writings and paintings ever since I’m still a 1 meter-heights little kid. Back then I either make random object paintings on woods or canvas; or my personal journal, illustrating what I just wrote on the paper.

Anyway. These are stuff I’ve made in 2010  or before:
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This one is a painting of a rich imperial graveyard. Here I used oil paint on 69 x 70cm wood panel; adding modeling paste to texturize it…it was in 2006 or something. I’ve done this one in my exchange-student period in the Netherland, in high school. At the time I also done several other paintings…but I never took photos of them. And like I said, I don’t have them anymore…

Most of them are still-life paintings and such, anyways. So I found them all pretty lame, or irrelevant personally (I mean, I don’t get the reason why I should spent time drawing random images that doesnt even meant anything for me? Realist drawing is fun for the challenge to capture….but game sometimes had it’s boredom limit). I like this one because I get to played with texture here, and not on other paintings. Though, this one is not even finished,…it  was because around 2007 – 2009  that I think my paintings are just unbearably dull, that I lost the willingness to continue.

And of course it was also because at the time I’m just 17 years old, and found other distractions//games that I’d like to spent more time into, rather than painting random graveyards.

Then in 2009, I get encouraged to draw again. Also because apparently, I found it helpful for me to express stuffs that I don’t want//can’t put into words. So I started it again…but my hands are already becoming so rigid due to the three years absence of drawing shit.

These are the initial outcomes. These things below  are manual drawing—which then I scanned and played with on photoshop (with obviously awful digital skill).

old drawing - surveillance photo 00-01-2010orbeforesurveillance_zps52ab4954.jpg

This one was trying to express my growing anxiety about rapid use of surveillance cameras. It was 2009 (it’s of course, way worse now).


old drawing - 'm game photo 00-02-2010orbeforeimgame_zps6b5b2221.jpg

Hehe. And this one is quoting that movie—“Love me if you dare”; that french movie where the friends growing up messing their lives with daring game. The lethal question was simply “Game, or not?” and of course the fatal answer would be “Game!” Awesome. Should play it someday. Eversince this drawing too, I start to add other (sometimes relevant, sometimes random) object that I deemed fit for what the picture’s intended to say; by my own standards. 🙂


old drawing - orchid photo 00-03-2010orbeforeorchid_zpsf1fc3ceb.jpg

Then sure it happened again here. I was trying to give a face to the orchid in my parent’s garden.


old drawing - departure photo 00-04-2010orbeforeshouldistay_zps357563d8.jpg

In this drawing, I started to use pointillism with drawing pens. I drew this picture when I have to be separated with one of my best friend…he got deported. Somehow I have the feeling he would lead some amount of bad time. I know I’m a bit superstitious sometimes…that little symbol around him is the sigil of Despair; a character from Sandman’s comic book; one of my favorite comic.

Sure I hope my feeling is wrong, hey.


old drawing - jezebel photo 00-05-2010orbeforejezebeldrawing_zpsfbc82f21.jpg

Now this one is supposed to be upset androgyny. Androgenic image being one of the thing that I found awesome. This is color pencil on paper…

old drawing - jezebel digital photo 00-06-2010orbeforejezebeldigital_zpse572676e.jpg

…which I found was too colorful. So I tried to destroy it on photoshop…but it only turns out like this. I called her Jezebel btw. 🙂


old drawing - tribute to cinderellatex photo 00-07-2010orbeforetributetocinderellatexcolored2_zps3a4c1b89.jpg

My partner taught me a bit about how to use photoshop more properly…so I get to color this picture, not as awful as before I guess eh. Anyway. This drawing is for my first zine—a zine about sex and psychology. I named it Lust Slash Desire #1 . On that first edition I put more focus on fetishes, and various psychological damages and some BDSM topics. I guess by this period is when I began to find what I like to draw–stuffs that didn’t make me bored. This drawing also dedicated as a tribute for my partner’s zine that also inspires me–Cinderellatex–the first and (by then) the only zine in Indonesia that talks about sex.

Categories: visuals, words | Tags: , , , ,

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