It’s ok…

Travel they say, experience new food and culture, meet new people and see new things. I did. I done it all, and it changes you. I travelled to Kos, with my daughter and I explored the whole island within 3 days. The person who got on the plane to visit Kos, was not the person who got back on the plane and returned to the UK. Whilst I was there i decided to risk everything, I drove on the other side of the road, It was something I didn’t think i could do, but i threw myself into it, like i do most things i want to achieve. Sink or Swim. I laughed, and felt freedom, and a weight lift.

I was in contact with someone fro my past who always had\did make me feel so self conscious, so low. And yet, the people i met there changed my whole perspective of life, love and people. Just because someone shows you no respect, it does not mean that you should not respect yourself. Reality is a perspective of a person, therefore one persons reality is not likened to another or deem able as being ‘right’. I also realised that if someone wants to think bad of you, then thats all they will think, no matter what you do, if that is what they think of you, nothing will change their mind. If people want to find fault in something or someone they will. But you can never gain anything positive from looking at something negative. You can never experience anything positive if you think negatively towards it. And if you never act positive towards something you will always receive a negative reaction. What someone ‘thinks’ you deserves is not what you should think you deserve. Everyone deserves respect and understanding. Anyone can be angry and impatient, it takes a real soulful human being to be kind and understanding. This may seem like a given, but it is not. Just because you can be nice to a stranger or to someone you know or care for it does not make you a good person. If you had a enemy infront of you or someone who had caused you hurt or pain, to be kind to them and understanding despite their misgivings makes you a genuinely good person. If you can tell the truth despite the consequences to yourself you are a good person doing the right thing for someone else. I had not had this in my last relationship. Lying and misguided truths was always a part of his life. Impatiences and lack of compassion or understanding was absent from his blood. Respect and fairness he would preach about but sparsley would show any to those who would show it to him. Ignorance was his morale high ground, and feelings were somewhat of a myth.

I could preach and i could enlighten any soul, but i prefer to say, that through being hurt and disrespected on a continual basis has strengthened me. Through a language barrier between me and a few people i met whilst in Kos i realised so much. Life is as complicated as you make it…… Even if it is raining, “Its ok” because tomorrow it may not, or “Its ok” because you are in your house. If you are hurting or upset with someone “Its ok” because you won’t be always. The amount of times i heard the phrase “Its ok” made me smile, as yes, yes it is ‘ok’. The simplicity of it being ‘ok’ the word being so simply made up of two letters but having such power within them to actually give comfort and a new perspective and reassurance is wonderful.

I played on the beach with leo and Tinisha, Leo taught me how to skim rocks, i was wearing a dress and was knee deep in the beautiful topaz sea. And overtime i could not skim a rock, the phrase came “It’s ok” Everytime it came tumbling out i smiled “Its ok, you can try again” I then seen the metaphor for my life, for every rock i could not skim, for everytime i tried and failed, it was ok, as i just try again. But it was nice to have someone say “Its ok”. My dress was soaking wet, and “It’s ok” because it will dry, and did within half hour. When i was deep in thought, and my mind wandering further than any country i could visit, it is ‘ok’ as for every thought and problem there is a resolution. Leo taught me and made me feel ‘alive’. I walked next to him wanting to touch him, feeling his energy, and feeling something tug in me. He crossed my path, and I crossed his, and I didn’t want to not walk on my path without him. But the end of my stay was hours away. 

When i sat writing my last blog post in the bar in lamb, i cried a little bit as it was a emotional day, a voice heavy with accent spoke “Lu-c why you cry?” i thought i could shed a tear or two without anyone noticing, i could do it in secret. Maybe it was the voice heavy with a accent that could only speak in simple english that allowed me to understand the simplicity of life, and love and the world. Maybe it is good to have fewer words to speak, maybe too many words complicate things too much. Simple English slathered with a heavy accent seemed somewhat refreshing and magical. There are few things in this world that are truly precious, love, respect, and loyalty are among the few i deem precious. Now i add one to this list, it is ‘time’, time and leo. Time is now a whole new level of precious. So is Leo. This last week i have spent time with my daughter, time traveling through a beautiful island, time with beautiful people and time by myself. I have also spend time thinking about things and time watching the world and its interactions. I have spent time listening to peoples stories and experiences and lives and i felt so privileged to of been given the most precious thing they have ‘time’, and they spent it talking to me. It is lovely. The laidback attitude of the people i met was refreshing and beautiful to be. I decided to delete my one email address from my phone as i no longer need to spend time with anything that comes through on that email address. I choose not to spend my time on anyone who thinks i deserve less than what i know i deserve. I decided simple words like “Its ok” are some of the most beautiful words i have ever heard.

And ‘Its ok’ to ask questions, and ask lots, because how else will i get answers, will i understand, will i learn or grow my perspective my knowledge and my beliefs if i do not ask. I always ask people questions, sometimes they are random, sometimes they are personal, other times they are philosophical, i ask because i am curious to how other people are similar or different to me in the way they think, see and have experienced life. For i will always be the girl that asked the questions that made them think more, that made them see that i am not just a pretty girl, I am a curious, fun, intelligent and witty girl. I am a talented, caring and compassionate girl, with a passion and lust for magic and beauty.

For what it is worth to anyone reading this…. and thinking too much or feeling too much “Its ok” it will get better it always does….. but Its ok to feel sad, its ok to feel anger, its ok to feel lost or confused, we are human and its ok to feel, its what we are made to do, to feel, some of us feel so deeply, and its ok because it shows we cared so deeply, loved so deeply and believed so deeply. That is not a bad thing, it is good, as it shows that we are more than what we think we care, and capable of.

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Fear and its two faces ….

Its has been a while, blogging for me is like praying t a god i have never acknowledged before.

What happens when you give a person unlimited freedom? – They become who they really are. It is the same when a relationship ends, the person or the traits of who they were that you didn’t like become ever so more prominent. This i suppose is the most heartbreaking thing of a relationship, because as much as you did not like the attributes, and tried to deny them to yourself, in order to smooth over the relationship. To maintain it, no matter how unhappy it made you. When it’s over and you see the person for who they really are, selfish, self-absorbed, sleazy, and without discipline, it shows that the time you wasted trying to convince yourself otherwise is lost. The emotions you invested are lost, and the thoughts you had to fight with daily took up so much time and heartache was eventually so unavoidable because of who the other person REALLY was. We all like to convince ourselves and others we are good people. But who are we when we think no one is looking or no one will find out? That’s who we really are. We all like to think that given any type of situation we will do the right thing, but the right thing has consequences, is it the right thing for us (selfish gain) or the right thing for someone’s else ( no gain for us, just drama/trouble etc, but happiness for someone else)

The way we think of ourselves is crucial in how we attract and how comfortable we are with ourselves and others. They say the things you like about other that you hold in such high regard are the things you most like about yourself. I think this is pretty accurate. I appreciate honesty, and loyalty, i love someone ho has a good sense of humour, who loves to be creative or artistic and likes weird stuff and philosophical stuff. I like all these things about myself too. I have realised that I do actually like a lot of things about myself, based on what I like in other people. Especially emotionally, I like someone who is patience who is calm and compassionate, people who are empathic and caring is such a beautiful thing in another human. These are also things i am. The flip side, however, is that the things we dislike or even hate about other people is what we also dislike about ourselves, as we have to try very hard not to indulge yourself in this behaviour. I dislike liars because i could lie, i could lie so easily, but i refuse to…..I could be a slut, or a flirt or a sleazy girl, it would be easy for me, i am pretty talents and have a great personality. Though i chose not to indulge in something so immature and self-destructive. I dislike people who have quick tempers as it takes alot to keep mine under control as i have trained myself not to flare off.I dislike people who let their emotions run off because i can let this happen and it ends up hurting both myself and those around me.

We are complex little being. We are also in such denial about ourselves as our perspective of our self is so flawed. I got asked by my therapist to ask people who are close to me and who are not “What is your perspective of me, and my life” This is not to take on board what these people perspectives are or judgements, and correct myself accordingly. It is to see if they have the same perspective of myself and my life, in which i reflect, to them, on social media, and through my behaviours. In this process i then have a idea of what the people watching the movie of ‘Lucz’ sees and witnesses what they value and are interested in, what they like or sympathise with, what they do not like etc. SO then from that i can compare it to my perspective of myslef, as i am not viewing my story, i am essentially the one that is behind the scenes. I know the set, the characters, the storyline, the tragedy and the accomplishments, that others do not see, or which i may not share or reflect in case of rejection, judgement, and my perception of what is deem able as a accomplishment or tragedy.

Like a turtle in a shell, when i am hurt or scared i hide in it, i do not go wild, i hide, i seek safety. An interesting point i thought. But inside that hard shell is a soft and beautiful creature. A creature that knows when to hide, because of how fragile she is.

FEAR – This old friend. Is actually very healthy. Without fear, we wouldn’t know its what we wanted. To feel indifferent about someone or something shows its not what you want, its just a simply or easy thing to disregard. Fear shows we want it, we believe in its magic, the fact it will challenge us, draw out another side of us, new emotions, and a different kind of life/ experience that we have may have had something similar before …. and enjoyed and valued it in some way therefore we fear it as it was a experience that helped us grow, feel and live and change us differently to who we were before, what life was before. Fear shows interest, shows a soulful attachment to delve into what could nurture us into another world/life/ experience and happiness. If we have the courage to let us feel the fear and embrace stepping over the other side of fear.

He calls for me… not you….

Have you ever met a girl with the saddest eyes you ever seen? They penetrate into your soul with a stare…you know she is more than just the coat of perfectly formed flesh she wears. Have you ever met a girl who can figure you out, better than you could ever figure yourself out…. but she still hasn’t figured herself out … she still doesn’t see her magnetic essences …..her mind blowing presences…and her invisible beauty that could lure the devil himself to pray to god….

There is a girl… she can captivate your attention with an expression, she can retain your interest with a sentence should she require it… but she never will need your attention… and that is what will make you want to invest more in this girl….

This girl can pull out the depth of you, that you never knew existed, she can enlighten you to worlds and emotions you have never experienced… if she was a drug, she would be ‘limitless’. If she was a goddess, she would be the goddess with which the devil himself would pray to God for her love and attention …..to touch her flesh….

Have you ever met a girl who carried as much dark as she could radiate light…. the kind of girl that when she smirks, her eyes become a brighter blue and she and you know, you are powerless as she could ruin you…. love you and leave you and you would still love her long after she has gone….
A girl whose flesh she could sell for a price with no remorse… as she knows the difference between her body, her mind, and her soul.

She could sell her flesh so she has money to dream, but very few could ever make love to her mind, and this is when she will fall in love with you…. but never will she dare to let you see…. She keeps her demons on a leash and she enjoys them scratching at her skin…. as when you touch her it burns their blood away….She likes to watch your chest rise…. trace the ink beneath your skin.. and watch it move when she makes love to you……

She can be cruel, she can be kind, it depends on her state of mind. She will never apologise for the cuts she caused, as you let her in, you let her close enough, she didn’t ask for you to fall in love…..

This kind of girl see’s magic in the world, magic most people never see, and if you ever should be lucky enough to share her time, and air she could point out a few to you…. in those moments you will see her inner- most workings…. class it as another wonder of the world, as not many get to be let in this far.

This girl i can write about….. as she can light up your world, destroy it, or leave you stuck in despair in it….. for very few she will trade her heaven for their hell, as this girl had learnt love. She has been cut by its shards, and she has baptised herself in her own blood, in the name of what she thought was love.

Give her a challenge…. and she will never disappoint….she will always surprise…If you can’t find her she’s lost between ink spots and dusty spines…If she is ever in need of peace in a cemetery is where she will be… and if she is hurt don’t be surprised when you see another masterpiece…

This girl will not conform.. will not be kept or surrender …. she is the earth and she can nurture or bury you… and if you ever lie or deceive her she will never forgive you….

Girls like this exist and they are the ones that will always be loved…..
They are broken girls, with burnt wings….. and these girls understand EVERYTHING …..

Compartmentalisation …..

Well, hello.

For those who read these things heres a few lessons….life is a puddle and you human made up of 97% water. To live you need to drink. So whether that be sicking, sipping, splashing, or face-planting that puddle to truth of the matter is the puddle is your means to living. So instead of saying life sucks, stop sucking from the puddle and splash in the damn thing. I have learnt it is sometimes what you need to do to smile while you are staying to survive.

‘Triggers’  – So I am bipolar. Hate being labelled but i have to admit i am learning things i wouldn’t if i wasn’t. Thats got to be good right? Well I know everyone has triggers to things that make them angry or sad. Well, I have a massive trigger that doesn’t so much trigger my emotions as my moods. Its kids. Other peoples, I cant stand them. To be around them or to even look at them. I have never been the most maternal woman in the uterus, and my uterus now is literally just for show. But it is children, they affect me so bad. I think its because as a person with bipolar i need stability and to a certain degree, control. Control of who is around me, as adults, their behaviour is somewhat more stable than a child. I recently went to a trampoline centre with my daughter and a friend. I had no intention of jumping on trampolines and my anxiety wasn’t the best (social situations another major trigger) However i was in the indoor centre less than two minutes before i bolted quicker, faster and more wild than any horse. What is it with screeching kids? Kids who scream. I cannot handle it, whether it be with fun or pain, or upset I cannot stand the screeching of a child. Now im sure a few of you think this maybe callus. But, as a woman a human I am entitled to say as I please and to not feel guilty for how i feel. I do not like other peoples children. I have no control over them so if the parent becomes angry at the child in my presences my mood plummets as then i have to be around a crying, or screeching or sulking or tantrum throwing child. The adult seems to go oblivious to this where as im in hell. The fact also some parents choose not to discipline their children ( i do not mean beating them, but being able to warn them that their behaviour will have consequences should they continue) So the child just goes around, ( in my house is the worse) with as much respect or regard for personal space as genital warts. This makes me detach so much from the people and children. I just want them gone as soon as possible. Which i suppose is why i never work  (photograph) children. As parents seem to think this thing that escaped their ball sack, or fell from their uterus is the most perfect thing in the universe, and does not need any moulding or refining. This is why society is slowly being ruined. Parents like these. Which in-turn makes me not like venturing out into society, as there are ‘these’ parents and ‘these’ children.  This may seem like such a harsh blog, but to those who know me i never sugar coat anything, for anyone. I am not that person.

So my ‘trigger’ is children, other peoples as they affect my mood so quickly and so intensely. Its the younger children more the 5yr old and under i suppose. Yes, those. I seem to be anxious around children which slowly begins to drain my emotions. Should this carry on for a prolonged period, just from this encounter alone, the following day i feel drained and numb. A bit dazed and not connected to reality. I find my friends children the worse, opposed to strangers children. Though some strangers children have that ‘i don’t care who you are’ attitude towards them and will just outright be a spoilt little brat. But friends children see me as more familiar…. which I do not like. As they then feel more comfortable to display negative behaviour around me which makes me become completely cold towards my friends as i want them to leave. Its a trigger. A trigger that always puts me in a mood I do not like. Its a trigger that will then ‘fuck me’ over the next day as the anxiety, the caution, the annoyance and the combusting anger i have to supress drains me so bad, i cannot cope with life the next day.  So another little lesson I learn is how much emotional impact things can have on me that i have not paid attention to before. The way a friend can argue with his/her partner on the phone, and if i am there and stuck (i have no car to escape in) it becomes a ‘trigger’ that emotional impacts me so bad that i don’t want to see that person again for a good few days. Because, to be honest, If i wanted to witness or be involved in a argument i would create one or i would watch people argue. It takes me hours to even be able to even smile after being subjected to that. Which then makes personal relationships difficult. As you don’t just get into a relationship with the person you like. You have to get involved in a relationship with their mother or father and siblings and friends. NOOOOOOO THANK YOU. As people come with their own problems, work, job, house, issues, and normal things. Which i can handle, but then their parents or siblings or friends are somewhat attached and bring their issues to the person you are in a relationship with… which then means you have to deal with them, although you didn’t sign up for that shit. Well i never do. I think of it like, your family? Is your family, your problem part of your life to deal with. ( don’t get me wrong if their mother needed a blood transfusion and i was a match i would do it in a heartbeat, but thats because i’m a good person, not because i like other peoples families. Other peoples mothers fathers etc have that attachment that warped perspective of their child or sibling and their loyalties will always be with them, not matter if you marry their son, friend or sibling. It is just the way it is. SO i learnt my lesson. Just  be civil and polite, avoid family gathering and social events, as this is just another situation whereby (if they know you have a mental health issue you are not judged, and you wont be put in situations that ‘trigger’ your mood to spiral) PERFECT SOLUTION to me. That way i have my own little world with my partner he still has his own friends and family etc and i have mind. There is no need for them to cross, or  burden our relationship as a couple or each other.  As lets face it when your relationship breaks down with your partner and it never really ends amicable not straight away anyway, then any relationship you have with THEIR family, THEIR friends breaks down too. FACT.

One thing in which i have decided to do it to be more selfish. I have decided if a mother of mine cannot be bothered to text or to phone me, or ask how her granddaughter is. That is ok. That is fine. I will not chase after a relationship with someone just because I have alike DNA to them. Neither shall i be bitter at the parent who puts a wedge between her two daughters and granddaughters by only bothering with one lots and not the other. That is her choice and i respect that. It saves me having to listen to the mother whine about the other daughter or bills that everyone has to pay and to turn such trivial things into such overpoweringly dominate things to create drama is mind-blowing to me. Life is complicated enough without wanting to complicate it even more. Any one with any form of intelligence in my opinion should consider two things when facing a problem or potential problem.

1) Can i control the problem or situation or change it?  If the answer is no, then accept it and move on.

2) Can i control or change or alter this problem and the way I feel? If the answer is yes, you can. Then do it, nobody needs to know about it, nobody really cares but you when it comes down to it, so quit wasting time and sort it. problem solved. Time saved. Be happy again.

Some lessons are learnt the hard way, some lessons are never learnt. The only lesson we should ever be taught both at home and in school is – ‘You have one life, so does every one around you, one day they will leave or you may. Do your best to leave them with good memories and a positive impact and you only get one ‘true’  chance with someone, any other chances are just because the person is polite, not because you deserve it’

Now i will bore you a little with his image and my concession of recent images, which i think have a additional element within them. The Art. I do like photo manipulation but the process from;

sourcing dresses

making props/buying them

to finding a location/another model

to taking the photogrpah setting up, ensuring all angles are covered etc

to them coming home syncing in lightroom and then editing

between taking coffee breaks, replying to texts, altering my you tube playlist

sourcing stock images or rummaging on my hard-drives for mine.

To the naming layers the lighting balancing and the sewing together seamlessly about twenty different photos I am then left with one image upon my screen. That i usually am never completely satisfied with.

But……….These last few of heavily manipulated photos i have been happy with. They are not as emotionally throat punching as my portraits. I like that. As sometimes even i look at some of my Portraits and I am like…WOW…FUCK LUC thats deep, or dark or rendering. Whereas alot of my heavily manipulated photos have more of a story….. than a emotion. But still can be something of a emotional piece if one attaches a emotion like the one that inspired me to create said image. So These last few images have been about change, rebirth, enlightenment and somewhat cleansing myself. My mental health hit a pinnacle point. And the only thing that calmed or soothed me and let me escape from reality was editing. As anyone who knows anything about lightroom or photoshop will understand how complex a interface it can be. A friend or two has helped, James because he is the Angel that has been ripped of wings and condemned to live on earth…..Poor sod. And more unfortunate for him he crossed my path a few years ago. But a kindred soul he is, and the person who is helping me to create a utopia out my garden, now my dog has died. I love a graveyard and James is helping me cast tombstones and lay some grass. I am so excited for this, i cannot comprehend the words. Not the fact i will have this graveyard out my garden but the fact he suggested we do it, and that he is the one pushing for it…. and the fact whenever i shall sit in my garden, James will always be the memory that i remember. The memories we shall create, casting and practicing, painting and laying the memories that make people the worst kind of people when they leave…. as then i’m left with painful splinters of memories that hurt every time they are remembered. Then i have a beautiful friend who isn’t a close friend but she is close enough and long enough old a friend by almost twenty years to know that my child will always be safe for as long I need that security should anything happen to me. There are a precious few people who come into your life and never leave… sometimes just sitting on the side lines. Then you have other people who cross your path… and you learn something from them… They never stay, they never mean what they say. So to those people, the door was open, now it is closed. Another chance i’m sure will arise because i’m polite, but the ‘true’ chance has a headstone in my garden ready to be laid.

These recent pieces of Art have not been inspired by sadness, as much and many of my images are…. but of progress, each one I am climbing unsteady chairs…. Or morphing from a human to a raven, symbolising freedom. The dark within me being wild and taking flight. The elements of nature, Earth, Air , Fire and water…. and me…..’Spirit’ The symbolic blue dress is the morpho butterfly i adore. Which cycles through a life recently like mine, Or I, like its. The UNKNOWN, was a image whereby i walk down steps and hands from beneath the slates wait hungrily for me. This was massively to do with a brief interaction I had with a man. He was the unknown, and I was walking blind. Lesson learnt. The puppet, and puppeteer with my Tim burton styled background, symbolised a lover i once had. Who showed me what i could have a lover and a happy life, but he was in control and it was never a situation that he proved we would ever be in. So i left. This was shortly followed by the skeleton and I sat on the floor. The skeleton my ex lover, the smoke from his cigarette another girl he would bring between us…. and me. It was me seeing what our relationship really meant to him, those precious memories, of laughing smoking and drinking coffee were nothing more than wasting time. The Egg timer and I, Is where my fears lie. This was me acknowledging my mental health was rapidly fading, and the less time i had, the more erratic i became. Then the last one within my ‘Progress’ images was me sat up against a wall with my demons, and how i fell back into their traps… how they laugh and mock, how the light in the corner seems like a escape… but misery loves company, and i know that I am not alone, with my demons, but in the light, in the scape, in the new batch of pills, i may never again find me.

So this is me…. and today, I like me. Someone gave me my smile back, and a happiness in my heart… but tomorrow they have the claws to tear it apart… lets see what becomes of us……

Coffee and cigarettes …

Its a early hours in the morning kind of blog again. Bipolar kicks my arse and sometimes i let it… its nice to feel something other than medicatedly numb.

I was inspired to buy a camera because my heart got broke… I knew nothing of the damn thing, only the man who broke my heart had one. He captured images of me i was his subject and his muse. Then my heart was broke and he became my muse. Every image was haunted with him. Things i wanted to say or scream, things i wish he would see. Other things i just needed to release… find a part of me. With every self portrait i looked at the mens, like i did before when he held it. I gave the expression with my eyes. As a model you are not allowed to pull a expression with your face, no muscles must move within your face but you must pull your emotion through your eyes as if it were your soul, your heart. And you had it over to the camera. As soon as that shutter shuts, its captured a part of your soul. Anyone can pout, and anyone can smile, but to say it with your eyes… and let someone read your mind and soul is being naked.

It was through my images i met another man….. I thought my heart was broken and i had lost the love of my life. Then ‘this’ man strolled in. Well strolled is the wrong word, more like crashed. And for the first time in so long i actually ‘felt’ i felt something other than hollowness…. emptiness and anger. I felt love again. We went through so much from him leading a double life. From anger and rage, from both of us. From trust issues to lies. From prison and restraining orders and random stalking and phone calls. Theres always that pull. I think in loving him, i lost a piece of me. Every image over the last three years has some way been inspired by him. If it wasn’t through hurt, or anger, or betrayal. It was through despair it was through confusion. It was through painful aching love and worthlessness i felt. He was my inspiration. Every hurtful word he would say, would inspire me in some way. Every lovely gesture would inspire me. He is my portfolio, of my emotions, my journey. I think because of the bipolar i may feel alot deeper or react alot stronger to situations. Maybe its the writer in me? maybe its the melancholic soul i have? Maybe its because i’m a hopeless romantic? Maybe its because i don’t want to believe i fell in love with a monster and then he turned me into one. Theres alot of maybes and questions and ill probably never get them answered not really. Truth is i don’t want them answered as then i’m in a reality of the real. I have never been much fond of that. Maybe i read to many books and enjoy being tragically in love. Where is the fun in being happy? Its alien to me, it scares me, it panics me. It terrifies me. At least when things are wrong you know they can get any worse. But to be happy and then to fall…….. i know what that feels like. The happier you are the higher the height you fall from. So my advice ‘ never get to happy, enjoy it, but don’t think it will last. Trust me it never does’

 

Now for the worst confession of all time……. ‘Happiness writes white’ If i am happy no images appear, if I am happy no poems are written. I am inspired by heartbreak, by depression, by pain and by being hurt. I am a fucked up girl.  Theres ‘life’ and ‘death’ and then there nothing but sadness in-between, thats what i capture…. thats what I release. Everyone can look at a pretty image, only those who know the colour of the depths of depression and pain can look at ones that aren’t pretty and see the beauty. I guess thats why i wont do pretty pictures…. I don’t want fame from my images or to be ‘well known’ I refuse commissions that aren’t my style and pass them on to someone else. I wont change my style or message to cater to the masses…. or the majority. I fit in with the minority. The people who have not only been to the edge … but know whats over it. But to do that i cant be happy. I look through my stream on flickr or 500px and i can tell you the month and reason and feeling and why that photo was created. When i go back to Oxford, my happy place, my safe place, my home. I never do a shoot or take a picture. I take my camera every time but i cant take a picture i’m too happy and safe…. Im too in awe at being peaceful and calm.  I have to now torture myself with the insecurities i have, the questions and the hurt and suffer i sustained through my last relationship to still create images. For as long as i do that i’m never to move on…..

 

Would i prefer to be a tortured artist or a happy wife/girlfriend with mundane pictures?

Tortured artist every time.  I don’t want to see the world as it is… I want to see it and the other worlds within it. I want to show people they aren’t alone…. everyone can relate to one of my images. When that stops happening i will sell my camera. I have decided however to challenge myself like only i can do….. I am going to do short fifteen second videos too. So now i need to learn how to edit videos. Because for the things i cannot capture in one shot ……. which is rare…. but maybe if i can maybe do video editing maybe it will help me overcome some of my inspirational block. Or maybe i just need to be with the person who breaks me best as thats the only time i feel inspired or alive.

The Indecision of decisions

I fall short of being comforted by my decisions and the morality of them. When morals and feeling set their feet in the ring to fight to the bitter death, its hardly surprising regret is a scar we all carry. I am a sucker for a romantic love story, I guess its the little girl in me that saw many a disney princess, rescued or sacrificing something of value at a chance of the adventure love can bring. They all ended up happy, the cliche happily ever after. Did that stop existing or did it every exist in the first second of mankind. Is it a false facade to keep humans reproducing… or so are attention was so far distracted from reality that we can be bled to death and not even realise. I experienced the most profound love, once. They say you experience a kind of love once in a lifetime that never leaves you. Maybe he was/is mine. At the regrettable age of 28 (29 in a month to the day) I have experienced different types of love, and i have never loved one partner the same way or have i ever experienced love of the same kind from any partner. A blessing and a curse.

I never were a jealous girlfriend, but I’m a girl with feelings. I neither want to own someone with the power of love, and neither do i want to be enslaved to theirs. For every lover i have crossed paths with I have never found in them what i truly desire from love. Freedom. I believe love sets you free. I believe love is something that is the most dangerous entity in this world. And now love is something that scares me beyond recognition of the benefits that are wrapped in a bow at the start.  I am now maybe a cynic to love of the partner kind. I think of all the things i love about being alive, being a human. The warming sun on a summers day, laying upon my skin like a blanket. I imagine my lover with me on a grassy patch in some country. Any country even here, as long as you are happy, destination could be a cardboard box in a doorway with your lover or a sandy beach in bora bora. To me its not about the beauty of places, its the beauty in the memories i create in the places with the person i could not imagine my soul without. Upon this grassy patch, whether we are making animals or superhero from the sweeping clouds, or napping, we could in silence appreciating each other presence. Or he could be playing with my hair as i rest my head on his lap and he reads aloud to me, or I to him. Whether it be my favourite author or poet or his. It doesn’t matter as its not the words that matter its the way the person reads them with such a ignited excited passion or belief in their beauty it transpires into your ears and mind and snuggles their for a lifetime.

I suppose the coffee and cake in bed on a sunday morning, with crumple sheets screaming how much we loved each other the night before. Maybe its the long silent walks or the tour around a beautiful city on a spur of a moments drive on sunday. I like the little things. I adore the little things. Its not about buying me flowers and asking me to see their beauty its about taking me somewhere even just to your imagination and letting me see the world and its beauty through your passion and your eyes. Its the morning texts when the bed is empty, knowing the first thing i read is your appreciation and beauty in thinking of me when your not just in my bed. I also love the way someone loves me, the way they want a ticket into not just my heart, my bed, but my world, my passion my mind. To gain access to that is something i do not allow for many people or lovers as some i have allowed and lived to regret. I have chosen to ask a man to aid me in my passion to collaborate with me on something i find to be a massive step into my world. My photography, Not because i am wanting a male model or company, but because of the way i want to depict him as a man.

A man is a interesting opposite to a woman. And for every man i have shared even a hours company with i always find something enchanting about them. The way they like to enhance their status in a way to win my affection or attention. When they couldn’t even begin to understand me as the girl i am. I do not care for your car or bank balance your body fat or lack of the physic you have or the looks you have or haven’t been gifted with. I don’t care for what your education level is, or your culture or religion. The thing i care about is your passion or you having one. The way you can entrance me and teach me something that i do not know or hypnotise me with the way you have the need for art in your life. A man who knows who he is and is happy with himself. A man who finds beauty in the working of my mind or the words splattered on my page. I found this man and he intrigues me and to me he is the embodiment of what a man should be. And rather than seeing him in his mortal flesh i have and do see him in one of my images and for that reason i need to create that image. I need to bring this mere mortal into my world of love and pain and art and words and make me believe in both myself and my decisions again.  From this man i need something more than any other man has given me………….. I need him in his mortal form, stripped bare of everything but his soul. As of yet he has no idea as to the image i want to create, as of yet we have barely spoke of it. As of yet I am scared of the image and the significance if i can actually pull it off the way ‘I’ see this man.

My indecision…………..is varied from what flavour coffee to drink to who to reply back to with a message. From who to bother to even message first and what type of start i want to start my novel with. So when my hand sits on my camera i transform into the person no one gets too close too……’Anything you have to say, say it through the camera’ That is my mindset every time i chose to pick up my camera. That lens i stare into a devoid from meeting is my lover, my love, my freedom. Maybe the love for a partner is not real, maybe the only true ‘love’ you ever experience is that which you create, develop and embody with all your belief and passion and emotions into. Not because it pays well but because it is selfishly the only thing you can ever own, control, and will only ever leave you if…… you choose to leave it, or yourself. I can’t be what someone wants me to be, the standards they set, the expectations they have and the obligations thus in turn puts on me. But i can decide to be the one person who does not hurt me, or lie, or deceive myself, i can be the one person i can find comfort and safety in. I can be the person who loves me.

 

I have been in such a vile relationship i am now a tortoise …… I am tucked within my shell. I am safe, I am cosy and I am at such a distance from exposing any part of me I can now truly get to know me. I ‘am sure one day i will get a bit lonely or yearn for some affection or interaction and peer out at the world. But for as long as i have a book and my writing or photography for expression. What else do i need…………………….from anyone. As i have the things that make me happy, and make me, me. Though success is nothing if you have no one to share it with, travel is lovely, but lonely when you have only your eyes and can’t see the beauty through another’s. So maybe one day someone may pick up my shell i hide in, and sit there and wait with patiences love and care……. and maybe one day i will come out and love would of been ‘just waiting right there’ just waiting for me.

The image i have featured in this blog was a failed attempt at the image i wanted to create, but to me it symbolises something else too. But this i will keep a secret.

The man….and me.

I have said before i do not blog enough. The bipolar i blame, for when i am manic i cannot write I’m too busy to be bothered. When I am low I am too disconnected and in a blanket of despair to write. Even though my lows are my most creative times, when i say creative i mean for writing poetry. I pour my emotions out on pictures of sunsets that day that have made me smile or made my heart a little less heavy to pull around. Then i have mu twitter which i have now changed to a different name in the hopes it remains anonymous somewhat from people who stalk it and condemn me for what i write. Even though its true. He was a lying cheating careless bastard. Anyway then i have my Facebook profile which i post very little on personally as i have a lot of people i do not know too well. Then i have my stagnate Facebook page that hasn’t see a new image in months. I haven’t picked up my camera for about three months. That is so unlike me, though i pick it up on Saturday to photograph a wedding. Not my creative hobby or outlet, but it pays the bills, makes me believe in love again if only for that one day. It means i cane be around people celebrating this wonderful day and present photos that will last a lifetime.

 

So for three months i have not used my outlet to photography anything. I did take it away on a spa break with my now Ex but again i did not take any images. The motivation was not there even though the ideas were. The visual picture was in my mind yet it never materialised into anything more. Normally after a break up (or three thousand with my ex) i would pick up my camera and pour my emotions into a image. Edit it. Release it and be freed as a prisoner from the pain the consuming emotions. Yet because of my bipolar i haven’t. I have had my medication adjusted and i have two new therapists. One of which i am so indebted too. I always thought therapy was a cop out for people who cannot deal with their own shit. And was full of proteins therapist with more certificates and text book intelligence and knowledge than actual experience. I was wrong or i struck it lucky this time. I wrote her a email from the contact page on her site. It was about 3 am in the morning and suicidal wasn’t even a close enough description of what i felt. I wanted to die, but suicide brings shame to ones family, so i imagined that night all the accidents i could be in, to maintain my families dignity. And keep the secret that i willed the house fire and laid in bed waiting for my death with excited anticipation. I didn’t know what to write in the email, do you introduce yourself as a person with a mental health disorder or do you just say hey i need your help i think i lost my mind, fancy helping me find it. Ill pay you. Or do you pour your heart out and if nothing else, and deal with the judgement and embarrassment? Well i took the risk and spilled my heart all over her contact sheet. As i slowly fell into my sleep i could only hope that there was some miracle in her reply. There was.

We met to see if i felt comfortable, as i don’t normally.  Yet i did instantly. I think it was more to do with the fact that i was utterly desperate for help or a solution that i would of trusted Hitler if he had said he had a cure. Four weeks ago i was that bad. Now? Im not better I’m not cured, I’m more stable and a bit happier, i have more confidence and i actually have learnt so much about myself. Its actually quite scary as i always thought myself as very self aware. Even the therapist commented on how self aware I am. I learnt a lot about my last relationship which has left me really messed up. I learnt about transference and can identify when this was happening. Even so much as a few weeks ago. I had a nasty email, which is a regular occurrence from the ex when we aren’t together and he hasn’t got some girl talking to him as a distraction. Or when he’s bored of them, or fed up of pretending to be a nice person, as he must find that exhausting.  It was about me having therapy and i had said that he has issues and through my therapist reading emails and text messages from the last few months that i had printed off that he has issues and would benefit from seeking help. He’s still in denial theres anything wrong with him, all the blame goes on other people. He hates guilt and obligation. Anyway I told him i was getting help to sort my issues out and the ones he had left me with and i was going to see my therapist on Wednesday at her house.  I normally see her in Cardiff bay, but she works on a self employed basis so she has a room off the main building of her house in which she uses as some people do not like the clinical feel. These people are normally her regulars and people who live closer or find it easier to travel to where she is. Anyway my negative ex proceeded in his email to tell me that she was not a real therapist if she had people at her house. That the price i was paying i was getting ripped off and the fact she seen he had issues just looking over his messages and emails shows she is unqualified. So there we go there is the introduction to my Ex instead of being supportive he was putting me down, my decisions and my experiences based on his…….???? exactly he’s never seen a therapist, God knows he should. But he always said I make up things in my head and go to war with them, that i take fictional stuff and use it as reality. Or my favourite one was that i had no logic in the way i think. I think his quote was ‘ You are one of the most intelligent people i have ever met, but you are the dumbest fuck to as you have no logic’ Exactly how would your mum and dad feel about him being around the dinner table? Parents are right for a lot of reasons.

So Tell me even though he has no experience or knowledge of therapists or their work its LOGICAL for him to make up FICTIONAL ASSUMPTIONS regarding what i know as fact. The thing I’m having therapy for is because of how manipulative he was and how he would always make me doubt my decisions and logic and thoughts. Quite sick really. I feel sick knowing it. I didn’t think the same as him, and he would always use my metal illness as thats why he was right and i was wrong. If its said enough times along with discriminating names and insults you kinda believe it. I did.

SO four weeks with my therapist, and people do think different to one another, thats why the word argument/debate exists thats why there are discussions in a relationship and compromise because people think different. These are based on the persons childhood experiences, family, culture, and many even beliefs. They are based on interpretation of situations experience with situations, knowledge and education level of people, peoples likes and dislikes. And ITS OK. It is ok to think and interpret the world differently to the person in-front of you at the queue, the neighbour, the family member the step parent the husband the boyfriend the bloody homeless man on the street. And each persons interpretation and opinion is as valuable as the other persons. It should not be degraded, devalued, disregarded or should it be seen as wrong. Or used as a tool to control or discriminate against. ITS OK. Thats what i have learnt its ok. Its ok that I believe that when we end our relationship and he flirts and sends explicit messages of himself to girls and receives them in return that i am right to see it as wrong, disrespectful and sleazy. Why am i ok to think this is right? because based on who I am, i do not do that to him, i do not degrade myself or our relationship when we end by causing myself more damage. I have more respect for myself that to expose my body to strangers, for them to masturbate over. I have more respect for myself as a woman and a lady to masturbate over pictures of a stranger opposed to sorting my relationship or issues out. I do do such things as i know if me and my partner resolve issues that i would feel terrible knowing what i had done. That the most intimate parts of my body that i pledge to someone i love have been carelessly given to a stranger. I have more respect for my partner for myself for my female counterparts. I am right to behave this way as my morals and principals tell me that sleazy type of behaviour is damaging to myself to other and to my relationship and any potential reconciliation i would have. This makes me think that I am right and what he is doing is wrong. As i have a different set of beliefs and morals and mature experience and respect towards myself and my relationship and partner/ex partner.

Now the opposing story i have been told when i have found out my partner/ ex partner has been doing this just hours after our break up is ‘I wanted to take my mind of you’ ‘I missed you’ I liked the attention’ ‘Its easier to talk to girls’ ‘I never physically done anything with them’ – Now these were a few of the lame excuses I was told. I was essentially disgusted at how willingly girls would send such pictures and act in such a trampy way. I was devastated that he would do this and it would make me feel worthless, competing with other girls who i classed as ‘skets’ a bit like slags. I found myself not wanting to argue or displease him in fear of him doing this again and me feeling so low. I also felt very ashamed of him as a partner. As the thought of passing one of them girls in the street after him and her had been so intimate made me feel sick. How could i hold my head high and say i have a decent gentlemen that treats me with respect when i – an she would know different. This happened 90% of the time in our break ups. Yet i was at fault for when we broke up accusing him of doing something like this again, when the probability was high. And then was i suppose to be grateful if he didn’t? I remember saying to my friend one day over coffee ‘******** has been good not flirted or talked to another girl in 6 weeks’ My friend was disgusted by the sentence that left my mouth and then so was I. When did i become the person that i was grateful for my partner to be loyal and faithful and not lie. AS lying was his first language, bullshit his second, manipulation this third and English his fourth. Its funny as he always wanted to speak another language yet he didn’t see how many he was already fluent in. Anyway, I looked closer to him and not myself. HE was perverted to be alone in his car or studio and be having lonely hand wanks over images of girls he didn’t know. He had no respect for himself or these girls, or me. He had no standards or morals or principals. He would talk to these girls and manipulate them into sending him pictures. He had no feelings for them apart from maybe a dick twitch that needed releasing. It was him that acted in a way i wouldn’t of and if i had acted in the same was as him JESUS CHRIST i would be all the whores and slags and disgusting whores going. Double standards right? Do you smell hypocrisy like i do now? It wasn’t that he missed me or wanted a distraction from me. It was when i would end us or walk away I took with me his power. His power to control me, to use me, I took it away. I wouldn’t obey him, or be manipulated by him or please him. Sooooooo what does a control freak need to do?. control! So he used another girl to manipulate to control, and that would obey him so he wouldn’t feel as if he lost his power.

I sit here writing this and wonder if i should even hit the send button and let this be torn apart by the world, read and picked over. If i should be ashamed of the person i was to stay with him to take so much….. or if it will reach some other girl and she will actually see… theres nothing wrong with her the problem does not lie with her but with him. Its a harsh realisation but one that sets you on a journey. See the most prominent thing i learnt from this is that my Ex liked to be someone else. As he was a very unhappy, insecure person. I found a lot of closure from someone he knew. I understand his childhood but i won’t use it as a excuse for his behaviour. We all have choices as adults. What we choose to do what action we choose to take defines us as who we really are. A excuse afterwards does not change that you have been a twat. It just makes it easier for you to get out of the guilt or not face up to who you really are. I remember him saying to me ‘ I can make anyone fall in love with me’ ‘I can get anyone i want’ – at first i thought what a ego and arrogance.

NOW? I see if you have the skills to manipulate and the insecurities most people have you transform into a monster. You play a role, you act, you become someone that the other person you are talking too wants to see. Everyone believes in love and are romantics all a guy has to do is press the right buttons. And he will if he has the skills and insecurities mine had. Thats why he liked talking to these girls and flirting as they didn’t know who he was, what he was capable of, they didn’t know him like i did. They didn’t know about his violent temper, his acid tongues ( he had his spilt in two, kinda ironic as he was a snakey bastard) They didn’t know the names he would not hesitate to lash you with how he would always keep you below him so he felt above you. That he would be so mean, that he was a compulsive lair, a person on medication for his temper and undiagnosed mental health disorder. He would not tell these girls he had a girlfriend ( oh yes he done it when we were together as well) he would even tell them that i was a stalker? I was his girlfriend of two years! But this boy would not want anyone to see him in a bad light. JESUS CHRIST HES SAINT FUCKING PAUL.  He couldn’t get away with the pretence with me, i knew he was a liar i knew what his hands felt like and i knew what his tongue was capable of and his controlling ways. These girls didn’t. That was the part he liked the best as he could for those couple of moments or hours pretend to be the person i believe he would like to be, but for whatever reason he choses not to be.

After three years i walked, I don’t want to go back, I should of left nine months into our relationship when i found out he was still seeing his ex… and six months after that when he was still seeing her and they were both lying cunts. I don’t blame her so much now, she was only told what he told her. She was stupid for believing him as i never did…. but thats another story. Its weird she hurt me so much and so did he, she had no loyalties to me and neither should she of…. she wasn’t my girlfriend, my friend or anything. But he was. Yet i still stayed with him. And for a while i was the only girl in his world. But that wasn’t enough, and i realised id never be enough for him. Because he wasn’t happy in himself about himself to be happy with someone else. He didn’t love himself so how could he love someone else. How can you receive love from another person if you can’t love yourself. He will never be happy or content. He wants to travel and i believe he should, it may make him grow up, it may make him see his issues. Though i have found out he has a new girlfriend.

 

Did this come as a shock, yeah in a way. Its only been five weeks since we split. An only four days since he stopped emailing. But yes she seems naive and she seems like a hopeless romantic. So he don’t have to manipulate her that much. He probably didn’t introduce himself by saying he was convicted of assault on his ex girlfriend or that he has a restraining order to not go near his ex girlfriend. He probably won’t tell her how early he split from me, and he probably won’t tell her the languages he speaks fluently. Poor Sarah thats all i can say. She has it all to come. And does a part of me want to reach out and save her from what i endured how fucked up i got and all his other exes, yes. What stops me? The fact he speaks fluent bullshit, compulsive lair amongst the others. Why don’t i save her? Because some people do not want to be saved, he didn’t want to be saved or changed. He improved massively and everything he got to this day in some way comes from me, from his job and his car from his travel destinations and more pronounceable vocabulary, from the way he dresses and holds himself in new company. The way he views certain things. I know in years to come he will love back and say ‘fuck, she loved me so purely’ And i did. I never wanted nothing from him, just love trust and honesty the foundations of any relationship. I just wanted a guy to look at me and see the potential we had. I gave him everything, my home, my heart, my time, my forgiveness, my family my car, my daughter, my passion, my knowledge, my beliefs i gave him all of me. I even gave him my mind to own. And now i have to heal it myself.

I was so upset when i found out he had ‘moved on’ as neither one of us ever does, we never physically do anything with anyone, and he never took it to the next level of giving his number out or meeting in person. And after a few days the girls he’s talking to loose their flavour to him. And he always came back to me. In a way i thought i had his heart, thats why he came back, as he knew how much i meant to him. I hoped this i suppose. As all us fools do. I thought enough flavourless girls would make him see that i was the best choice out of them all and he would change his ways. I hoped that he would see every time he hurt me yet i would take him back it was because i loved him. Not that i won some game. Just that i loved and believed enough in him to help him change. But I just wasted time and opportunities. Now he’s found someone else and we will never be the same, i will never look at him the same. And when i found out i cried, i cried so hard infant of my friend i let her hug me and i sobbed on the floor with her arms around me holding me up.

I went to see my therapist yesterday and i told her. I cried again and asked why the fucking hell was i crying and sad when i wouldn’t get back with him now!! why do i feel so emotional after i know i don’t want US back. For £60 a hour this is what i got….

 

“A person stands infront of two doors….

The one door she is told hell and pain is behind there her worst fears….

The other door….. no one knows what is behind it….. he doesn’t no or will she until she opens it and walks in and clicks it shut behind her.

-Most people choose hell and pain and their worst fears because as humans we develop coping mechanisms and a tolerance to these experiences these pains. We have a idea of what to expect so have a idea of how to deal with it. Its better the devil you know sometimes.”

 

I broke down crying so hard i emptied her box of tissues. I was sad because my option ‘ better the devil i knew’ was now taken away. I knew from him and overtime i took him back how he would act, treat me, what to expect, how i would feel, how i had developed coping mechanisms how i have a developed a tolerance to the pain or a immunity. I was upset that now if i didn’t like being on my own, i couldn’t go back to my devil. He brought me good and bad fear and anxiety, he took my insecurities and made them a reality then would condemn me for them.  Now i have no anxiety, I have no bad to expect, as i have no one to expect it from. No one is going to hurt me, i have good coming from my projects. I have a mobile home that i will start traveling in, in April then do Europe in In September till i decide to come home. Also i have flights booked to Iceland and a few other destinations. I have no insecurities as I’m not competing with any girls or the person i love will not betray me. I have no one insulting me or my bipolar disorder. I have no one being nasty and mean to me. I have no anxiety of him slipping up or being interested in another girl. And not just another bump but the bandages from all the other ‘mistakes, slip ups, girls, flirting’ are ripped off bringing everything back and killing me all over again. I have no one putting me down controlling me or messing with my mind. If i think different to someone else THATS OK it human nature to think different, no two people are the same. I have accomplished more in these five weeks since not being with him than i realised.

I have rebuild a relationship with my mum, which i appreciate and hold dear, i have strengthen the relationship between my daughter and I. I have a wonderful positive relationship with my Dad. I have bought a mobile home, gutted it refurbished it and i love it. Its a little home i can take anywhere with me. It has a coffee machine and it has everything i love thats quirky and me. I have emptied my attic of all my exes things. They have all been taken to the tip when i gutted the caravan. From his Cds to his furry throw. Everything of him has gone, pictures and gifts i have taken down. Not because i am bitter but because they don’t mean anything no more they are a anchor or reminder of a period in my life i no longer want in my present. I have had a book offer for my novel. I have a lot of weddings booked. I have projects lined up and i had the passion light up inside me when i was in therapy tomorrow when it came to a photoshoot. I have had male attention and a lot of it, it was nice and it felt strange. I have pushed it all away, no one i want to talk to or give my precious time to at the moment apart from myself. I am investing in a new camera. I am  writing a lot of poetry and i feel inspired with it, a freeing from it. I have three tattoos booked in for the tenth of march one to be reworked/covered and two new ones. I have developed a sense of self again. I have my appointment with my nurse ad i think i am going to have a bit of botox. I have my new silver/grey hair i have wanted for the last six months. I have new medication and I have new friends. And my old one i love to the marrow of her bones. I am investing in a new website so i can house my photography and poems and travels. I want to have somewhere to call my own, and i have a few more poems that are awaiting publication. I have learnt how to apply make up too……Every day it gets better. Even when I’m sobbing its still better because I’m learning and realising things about myself…… And my therapist is great. No matter what anyone else thinks she is having a positive impact on me… which means i can be positive around others and live my life…..

The better the devil i knew has gone so now…I have the unknown to venture through, to make my life and include in it whatever i want. Sometimes someone crosses your path and blows your world apart your emotions and mental stability. Because how else are you meant to put it all back together how you want to, how you deserve, and know what you deserve, if you don’t learn. My picture is not complete and I’m rebuilding my world….. while he is talking to a girl…. when the flavour fades i hope he sees a therapist and heals himself one day. Theres enough negative and bad people in this world, he should not want to be one too.