They are alive……

Its a one oclock blog again. I wonder why I do these blogs. I wonder who reads them, if anyone, and what they think. These are seconds that last for a moment and i am cautious of what i say. Then like the ticking of a clock my fingers sing on a keyboard and everything pours. I don’t like to think too much. As its never good. Not for me anyway. Relationships are funny things, you take two humans. These are from different walks of life, different values and experiences and throw them together. I always view the start of a relationship as a ……. Child playing with clay. When she has moulded her visions she then plays with them in her imaginary world of pretend. I think thats what we do, or I at least. I have a pretend world where i have made my clay man. To keep him there i have to play fair. To keep him strong and not for him to crack and crumble i have to understand the way he was made. But i don’t. I don’t understand me. So I am at a loss before i could ever conceive to win. Then in my pretend world everything is great. We can mould each other and smooth over the cracks. But in actuality it doesn’t get smoothed over. I choose my human and decided to love him and play with him in my pretend world. But i knew reality would make him crumble. I am just convincing myself i am now unloveable. Its not really the greatest ego boost that my ex cheated on me for two years and for the last year he still couldn’t be faithful. He would flirt with girls and send such pictures i would find out and feel sick. He handed me complex after complex and insecurities that made me shake.  Then i met another man, he was broken and not whole. I think i attract them you know.

I always saw a relationship of a somewhat unity. A team. If i was going to war the person i was with i would want on my platoon as i know they have my back. Yet i dated a guy a bullet, thats engraved and i wear it around my neck. It has a message inscribed but it was in the language he knew so a lie. I decided that I would wear it not because i love him, but because it was one of the many bullets in his gun that killed me and made me weak. But At least i knew he would never leave me. Then i met this other guy. No insecurities, no girls perfection could of been a good word. But then i spiralled and i fell and i descended to hell. Now my demobs are happy as they have me back. It was quiet lovely really how they welcomed me back. They stay up all night with me, and if ever i need company they are always there. I married demons so i can never marry a man.

I confided in a friend of what made me spiral. And as a friend does they show concern. It was nice to acknowledge the disease i have investigated and learnt thats eating me. Ooooooooh no this time its not my mind. This time its not my bipolar. I think if it wasn’t for my bipolar i maybe worse. I have the disease that consumes so many and that the word alone instills fear. It actually made me freeze. My blood ran so cold a splinter of ice must of pierced my heart, as i gasped for air. Cancer i dare. The womanly parts of me are being eaten alive. Im twenty nine and i have a unbalanced mind and a disease eating me alive. The insecurities rise and i feel bile thrown at the back of my throat. I could cry but i haven’t yet. Not over the thing that i just learnt. I think i’m numb or still coming to terms with this vile thing harbouring inside my womb. Like a spawn of satan i’m nurturing it and letting it feed on me. I am a beautiful host.  I actually can feel my breath unsteady as i filter through this truth. I admitted this two two people. Two which i trust and love and know would do anything to see me smile. But still i sit here in my ex boyfriends zip through hoodie, it faintly smells of him. Wearing dungarees bought for me as a sorry from the cheating ex, and the things i am wearing which look the best are fresh scars. Another chapter of my fucked up life. There was a time where my life was quiet happy and calm. Oh dear lord i wish for that again so bad. The marrow of my bone ache for it. They also ache for a warm embrace. But i know to be hugged would leave this little fighter with a tear stained face.

When it was revealed what i now have to face the cancer of a woman’s delicate place I was shocked nad scared then last night at 5 am i sat out my back garden. The stars weren’t too bright, but the warmth of the night kept me company. The sounds of cars passing on the road behind me made me smile. I wonder how their life differes from mine. I thought about writing, but couldn’t bare to hold my favourite pen. Then a thought crossed my mind, what if this is a pleasure of my life. I have contemplated suicide and attempted it a few more. What if now, ‘This’ disease is here to save and finish me. In a dignified way of course. As suicide is always a frowned upon course. Maybe i have created the work i was suppose too…. release the poems and art i should. Maybe i have changed a few lives, as i know a few have changed mine. I have done alot of good i know in my life, and been a good person to those i know and those i don’t, and those who haven’t deserved my time, but at least if I am lowered into the earth they will know they got more than they deserved and i can sleep peaceful. I tear slide down my face and the smile spread across my face. I own my thoughts and thats what i love about me, I’m not afraid to challenge those of a narrow or closed mind, not to win a argument but to enlighten their life’s. I have handed my notice into three magazines i write for and two support groups i run, one for young kids with self harm issues and one for support and counselling for parents of children who self harm and who have a mental disorder. My own mother do not even know of these jobs, or where i give my time willingly. My own mother knows nothing of my illness as i don’t see the point, she never made me feel ok or accepted for having a mental disorder. So why would she want to support me now, when she can just ignore and spend time with the ‘normal’ child she has. I am not bitter a part of me was. But i know i have done nothing wrong not to deserve what she has or has not done as the case stands. I am due now to turn down the book offer to have a book published, which i started to write. AS i don’t want to be stressed out right now. Writing books are hard. I have my university papers sat on my desk ready to submit to finish my last year. Even though when i printed them off i knew….. spending some time alone has made me think what do i want to be doing for a year? travelling,……… or photographing a series or two that will will remain should anything happen to me. As it’s not as simple as scrape and remove and then a few appointments to ensure things have been cut away. So maybe i will read, read every book i wanted to read. I will travel, travel to the places i want too. Maybe i will visit a few close friends who have been there from the start of my photography journey before i even knew it was a path i would go on to choose.

 

I will visit one man before the year is out. This time four and a half years ago, a man gave me the greatest tip in the world. (shadows) This man has a piece of my heart today. And i want to hold him in a embrace and thank him. For when i have doubted my work, my direction, the purpose of it all….. My darling Luca is there with his Italian charm. He has lasted longer than relationships and gave me more joy than most of them.  And even though i hate Germany, I will find him there.

 

Tomorrow i go and drive for a hour to a tattoo studio to be tattooed. The artist is amazing and I am dying to having this piece on me as for six years i have been in love with the concept of the piece. And i finally put it together and now i get to have a beautiful memoir of it. Then i will have my favourite poem inscribed on my thigh…. a quote or two more and when i lay on the slab or a cold mortuary cradle… I hope they read my tattoos and admire my artwork…. I will be a beautiful corpse in death as i was in life.

Now to try and sleep as seven hours of sleep in five days is something thats killing me. Stopping on lot of medication to be able to undergo treatment is a wonderful way to test my instability. But hey, it makes good pictures…. so at least my instability and insanity will never leave me….. never thought i would say i was actually grateful for that.

 

 

You’ll find me among the souls of tombstones

I hold my breath under water sometimes and i see how long i can stay under water and holding my breath. Not because i want to beat my own best score or I’m even timing the minutes. I do it because a self destructing streak in me wants to see how far i can push me.. when the panic kicks in, when the heart beat quickens, when my body writhes fighting for air. Then I gasp up from the water choking on freshly breathed air. I have no fear of death, some days i welcome it, other days i envy the peace i will one day find in it. I actually love to be around it. I have decided as tomorrow will be a beautiful day and i have uni work to do, that instead of a coffee shop or library …I will go with my books to my favourite place with coffee ………….A graveyard. There are the most beautiful graveyards around here. Some are very old, some beautiful and kind of new, others are unkept and sing with a whistle of decades ago. I know them all, and love them all equally. Tomorrow shall be cathays graveyard, tomorrow i will walk for a while, past Henry Williams and his Wife, Iris. I will tilt my head and sigh, to be buried with your lover in death and to spend a mortal life with them alive is really something i admire. I will walk then further down the the stone with barely etched words and wonder what was their first name. Then come the trees and they give oxygen to the living and shade to the dead. Their roots curling round corpses caskets and keeping them safe. I can’t help but think of stories and rhymes, picture who they were and what their life was. I also think of what will become of me, a casket or a pod that will turn into a tree or will i be burnt and scattered somewhere.

 

The graveyard will be my retreat for a few hours of soul aching peace. Their is a certain energy in a graveyard …. I think so anyway. I will place down my coffee and choose one of my favourite spots under a tree. Then i will wait for the caretaker who is always fond of me to tell me at quarter to five he’s closing up. Sometimes he lets the gate at the bottom open for me …. and to let myself out when i please. I never leave it later than eight to slip through the gate. Sometimes people just know you need that extra time. Think its the look people can see in your eyes. So many places to hid and mine is a cemetery it calms my soul and mind. And makes me appreciate life.

 

 

The predictable….

As it is with anything certain outcomes are predictable.  However when it comes to creating,  the visual in your mind is not always the end result staring back at you on your computer screen.  Which is sometimes both a brillant thing as you have over achieved your expectations of yourself.  Or you can be frustrated that it isn’t quite right.  It’s the same with many things in our lives,  the job we spent years studying for we now find we can’t stand.  The people we have tried so endlessly to please we realise we don’t even really like or want in our lives.  Then you have the things you regret not doing… Saying… Visiting… Trying.  I wouldn’t say I am the most optimistic person but i am however the most pragmatical. When people come into my life they are let in to my whole life based on a quality I adore or respect.  If they are funny…. I fall a little bit in love with them… If they are intelligent and have the most beautifully inspiring conversations.  I am hopelessly in love with them it’s true….. There’s nothing I find more beautiful than a intelligent person. However both intelligence and a good sense of humour do not amount to much If they are not self aware of themselves and those around them. Just because they  show sympathy or a caring streak for a stranger in the street it does not mean that they show the same care or compassion  to those close to them.  It’s people we have close to us,  I mean real close that have that key for all access of our lives minds and beings that we take for granted the most.  It’s human nature to be sociable it’s another thing to choose whom which we socialise or surround ourselves with.  I have found so many people compliment me on how I always go out of my way for people I love and care about. However just because I do that extra mile of care and show that extra devotion does it mean I should have it bestowed upon me too?  In the realms of fairness yes.  In the world we live in,  no.  Sometimes you help and try with some people to help them better themselves to make their life easier to make them smile or just make sure they know they are not alone.  Why do this?  Because it’s what makes us human.  To treat those how we want to be treated.  But this is simply a sentence now not a actual mind frame of some people.  Which is disheartening.  See the image of marriage we have in our heads…. Is not exactly the picture perfect idealism that some married people experience.  So when does expectations stop becoming important or become too important.  The expectations that I should live up to,  or that I put on others.  Who has the right to expect from others?  And then get disappointed or disinterested when the expectations are not met or exceeded.  I don’t put expectations upon anyone that I do not think they can meet.  A lover I expect them to be faithful,  honest,  and to support and protect me. And in return I provide that… Alongside the ability to love them and display this live in various forms but as often as I can.  Those little ways I say I love you,  those important things that get taken for granted until they are gone.  From cooking a favourite dish, to sourcing a gadget to make their life easier…. From the little way I lean my head in or body into them…. So let them know I live the feeling of them beside me. The way I know how to make them laugh to make a horrid day more bearable….. The way I will pull over in my car to listen to their day,  good or bad and offer advice and silently think of solutions.  And then solve the problem… Or present the idea so they can think they thought of the solution.  The touch of someone’s skin,  is such a simple but intimate thing.  From brushing your finger along theirs or their lips with yours.  Intimacy is something we all crave… From sweet words to feeling someone breathing next to us….  Purring in a snore or just to inhale their smell knowing their presence was recent.  The things we take for granted….  The alone time that is never really alone as they are a inch away from your thoughts,  your plans,  your memory.  Human beings  can be addictive for so many reasons,  for me the strongest addiction is how someone makes me feel. Like every girl I love the hearts and flowers…..  But the old fashion romantic in me loves the sitting in a park or on a beach with someone’s company beside me and arms around me….  Just sitting, just being.  To escape the fury of life and be lost in silence with someone where words are not needed….. The touch or eyes just say ‘I love you, , and this,  us.’ I once had this lover who use to read to me,  we both adored reading,  from his book or mine or the novel he was working on,  he would pull me in close and read. Not to fill a void or silence but because he knew how much it meant to me…. The romantic in me.  The melody of his voice and the accent in which I was intoxicated with still lingers with me to this day.  And it’s one of the most powerfully beautiful memories I have, of what made us,  us.  But that is the most beautiful thing about any type of relationship…. With my sister what makes us,  us.  Is the fact our humour is the same and the way we think of funny things and the memories we laugh at hysterically together.  I expect nothing from no one in my life….  But what I would like is love,  the pure kind,  the effort it takes to show me that I am loved.  Anyone I can have a conversation with anyone I can laugh with,  but what makes me want to be loved by one person is the reason behind every basic functioning of a human.  To be loved and accepted,  flaws and imperfections, because no one has the right to expect anyone to be perfect.  But to find someone so fitting to you….. But not accept them completely is a crime I can say I have never committed.  Everyone has such amazing qualities and such dark ones…. But if they are not harmful or malicious why can’t it be looked over….  The occasional lie… The occasional outburst of fury or misdirected anger, the laziness of them or the hypocritical acts they make.  Everyone is entitled to have flaws but be careful whom you dispose of for theirs as who knows what you are trading for another imperfect human. I read something from someone recently who I thought the world of at one point in my life.  To me he was flawless but his flaws were evident in the end, he wrote,  ‘to truly love someone you first have to know how much you can hate them.’ I thought this bizarre but I thought about it and realised how it’s the most beautiful and most true thing I have ever read referring love.  I have my own version of what it means and how I interpretated it.  And it is…..  To feel the depth of your love for someone you first have to find out what depths you can hate them too.  As the deeper the emotion of hate goes the deeper the impact of your love for them has been affected.  And if after hate you can love them then that’s a love that knows no depths of shallowness.  And perfect is nobody,  but real love is the only perfectly imperfect thing that exists. Which makes me proud of the people I have loved,  still love,  will always love and those whom I feel no love or hate for just indifference or disregard because with out the people I disregard I would not know what real love was……..  So the ideal image we have in our minds are not always the things that stare back at us…  But that’s OK… Because I’ll love them anyway…..

Lonely bones……

My friend and I were doing a shoot a few days ago,  after location scouting the day before. We found some amazing locations. Whilst being sat down talking about life and the universe we both spoke about our feeling of being lost. Primarily around other people, granted me and my friend both suffer from a mental illness, and although it is both comforting that we have both found someone who understands the silent struggles. It also can be uncomfortable when they pose the same questions you ask yourself and never find a answer for. We both met in rather unusual circumstances, we both met when we were in a place for people whom have a relapse or breakdown. I am not a very talkative person and my guard is nearly always up. But as i was being shown around this facitility, there was a young girl wrapped in a blanket that could of swallowed her five times over. She gave me a meak smile, (which i did not return) and put her head back down and walked away. A pang of guilt almost snapped my spine. I am not a rude person i just didnt feel like smiling back or have much to smile about. My usual resting place would of been locked in my room away from every other human. As i dont like them much. They do not interest me. But i asked how many people were staying the night and they mentioned just me and the girl that we had passed. When i asked where she was going they said the communal room. The last place i wanted to go. But i bit the bullet and went down.

We started a conversation and she held my attention, she was smart, very smart, creative and artistic and we talked for six hours, till the sun created shadows like prison bars on the communal wall. We both laughed at the irony. And that was that, she was my friend, we were friends. We spend nights talking, listening, understanding, sympathising and being locked in our own little world of self help therapy. we both agreed we understood more about ourselves and our issues through talking to one another than we had in any counselling and therapy. I spoke about my relationship and my breakdown. Although she was not my rock or light of positivity what she was, was real. When we got out we stayed in touch and she would stay up mine for a few days, and she spent new years eve with me and my partner and daughter. She gets on so well with my daughter. And she has made so much progress since we first met. I am so proud of her.

We both have a passion for photography and blogging and poetry. However we do not interact or ‘follow’ each other on social media or blogging networks as we understand the privacy we both enjoy from blogging without identity. This is a blog attached to my photography therefore i do not get the shield and the unknown identity, which is ok as i control what get puts out. Whereas my other blogs are full of in-depth thoughts and perspectives on mental health, photography, and the world. Issues self harm everything.  I often wonder what i should write on this blog photography, mental health, life, etc. And I have to write a little bit about everything as each thing influences my photography, as this is my creative outlet. I have decided to do a series on DREAMS. I have named it Dreams anthology, I have always been fascinated with dreams, where they come from where they go. How they affect us and how we can go back into some dreams and change the outcome. I was told this is lucid dreaming. Which I am proud to announce i can do!!! I never do normally dream or remember them. I can go a year without dreaming. I think this is due to my medication. But then when i do dream i dream alot and daydream alot too about them. I dont know if i believe in the meanings of dreams, and the explanations, but i love the experience. Good or bad dreams, I love them as they are mine, and only i have seen and experienced them.

I have decided i will not be publishing this blog on my photography page every time i blog. I will for purely photography based stuff but for other intents and purposes i will be blogging without facebook publication.

To be human, in these times of crisis both environmental and governmental we forget what we are. Human. I wonder how many people carry with them guilt, the guilt of not being able to do all the things expected of them, with families, partners, work commitments, friends and social commitments, and that of  school or educational commitments, then the laundary or housework alongside the expectations to still be perfectly groomed and appealing. Or if not perfectly groomed at least fit. This is about the worst type of world to be in, whereby guilt becomes our shadow.

The ability to do something we find pleasure in, and find time for, for ourselves, is seen as not important. But this is essentially what makes us human, the ability to enjoy the world and indulge in our desires our passions, our hobbies. If you ask ten people what their hobbies are, at least six or seven of them will have to think on this question. WHy? because they havent got time have a hobby a passion or pleasure. The rest will probably name a hobby, but when the next question comes along,” how often do you get to practice your hobby or indulge in it’ They will probably have to think of the last time they did. Which saddens me so much. Everyone deserves to be human, to do something that is not a means to a end but a source of pleasure and satisfaction.

When was the last time you sat at a coffee shop and people watched, watch the world pass you by and just relax. Not be bound to a appointment so you kill tie at a coffee shop, or wait for a friend, to socialise with. But just sit and indulge in time and peace.

Or when was the last time you sat on the beach, not to occupy the children as a day trip out to meet the requirements of a ‘day out’ but just sat there, watched the tied rolling in and out, notice how no two waves ever caress the sea the same as they meet the shore. See the clouds prancing across the sky, and their changing shape. Into animals or faces or flowers? When was the last time you watched a sunset or a sunrise properly sat there to watch one, the colours of pink and purple merging melting into a liquid gold or amber stream? When did you last sit in the woods, watch the shadows and lights change on the floor or hear the bird singing.

Whether it be reading, ( my favourite) or sunsets (another favourite) riding your horse (another guilty pleasure of mine) no matter what it is that brings you such immense tranquility and pleasure and peace. When was the last time you done it? and didnt feel guilty for doing it? essentially when was the last time you connected with your soul and fed it peace and pleasure.. and enjoyed being human. They say mental health disorders are primarily due to environment, I agree, If i havent done something i enjoy for a week i find my mood dip dramatically.

Schools teach children so much, but they do not teach them the things they require as humans not as governmental commodities. Did you know that your birth certificate registers you as the governments commodity? schools dont teach you your human rights, why? because its normally government run schools. They do not teach you about the government or the voting systems or politics, why? because knowledge is power and knowledge is what makes people question. Children are not taught of their common law rights, either. Why? because alot of legal laws will be flawed by the common law and the government wants to repress and control. The schools dont teach you how to be human, or enjoy being human or what it consists of, it literally just conditions you to become a drone and something that makes it money.

A sad truth, So please everyone indulge in what makes you human, enrich your life’s, your mental and emotional and spiritual state as right now alot the only thing that really defines us as not robotic workhorses is a name.