who are/were you?

Are you comfortable in your skin? is there a hollow or a ache, a longing or a absent sense of belonging? Yeah thats ok, i have it too. A piece of me is missing. I have my own black hole inside me. But, I am ok with that. I haven’t blogged in a long time, due to alot of reasons. When i become somewhat depressed if you will. I close down. I let very few people in. This is normal – I am told. My photography has always been a strength or resource to get me through the depression, to release the emotions the thoughts, to set them free. Before my lungs implode, from holding my breath, while screaming at myself not to cry. I learnt a very sharp lesson a few weeks ago.I was hospitalized because of previous physical problems. And in that week I learnt who everyone around me truly was. I had people who were two faced finally splatter how they felt and who they were at me. It was disgusting, and to be honest a welcomed relief. I wiped away the bitter and cynical slathering of a perspective that was projectile vomited onto me by this person. There was another person who i also let go from my life. This was a figure who comes with expectations when they are blood related, or at least paternal. But, i had alot of closure from their departure. A sense of relief and a knot that disintegrated in my stomach as soon as I saw the ‘real’ them. Again i wiped away the negativity that spat from their tongue. And like a snake shedding skin i felt anew. I decided to loose a man from my life and it was ultimately the fact that whenever i come to be in a situation whereby all i needed was emotional support, he is beyond unavailable. He was more….. ummm in a selfish coma of his own. But, there agin he always was. |I saw this man foe who he was, selfish and ignorant, and arrogant. I had seen these traits before, but they stung a little more this time.

When the fluorescent lights click off and the distant cough or shuffle of bed sheets on a ward are all you are comforted by. You realise who you actually would love to be there with you. The constant drugs through IV keep me numb enough not to scream or cry myself to sleep. The thoughts that whispered like the blue dressed ghosts on the night shift came and went. Leaving a sting in my body, somewhere. While in hospital i lost the choice. I had been told i was ‘lucky’ to survive. I had been told ‘it is time.’

It is a phrase that whirls as i go to sleep now….. ‘It is time.’ The time whereby a decision is made by you, for you. Or it is a decision made by another for you. I made so many decisions in that hospital stay. To lock two people out of my life. To welcome the one in and try to not loose him – i’m still working on that one. Also to never let myself believe or trust the intentions or words of the compulsive sleazy liar i knew didn’t care for anyone but himself and his needs. I made a decision he was a boy. He was/is/always immature, selfish and gutless. A coward to himself. I left that hospital knowing my dad loved me, even though he was estranged (through no fault of his own) for my childhood through to my adulthood. It was time to make a decision, and I did. I went to Paris and done my wedding work. I tried to make something work and I failed. Well i didn’t, just some people will never change its in their DNA. I decided to finish my last year in Uni and go to my graduation ceremony next year – I wasn’t going to go. And i have to book seats. So i decided that i want my dad to see one of my achievements, as he was denied so many. My uncle, whom is a/was a massive influence in my early years and later years in my life. Even his absences was a influence.A driving force so to speak. And my daughter as if it weren’t for her I am pretty certain i wouldn’t be here. And because she has had to sacrifice certain things while i study, and never once has she complained. The child who has given me more of everything, and anything, than i could ever hope to give.

The people in my life now are people whom I dearly love. From BBQs up my amazing dad’s, with my closest friend James, and my oldest friend Mark, to the ever surprising Justin. All of these men know me. They know me and observe me and connect to me for different reasons. These men combined have a weight to them. A sturdiness in my life. They have such vastly different backgrounds, and previous and current professions, and hobbies and interests. Yet, me my dad, James, mark and Justin sat with a current of intrigue and interest in each other. A genuine one a pure love, and energy driven by respect and principals. It would of taken my Uncle to of been there for it to be my favourite place and scene in the whole world. The lesson I learnt that night, was what comes with love. With the love I can relate too and understand. If i know someone loves me I can feel it. I can feel it in their energy their tone. And then i know i am safe. Thats all anyone wants to be, is to be loved and safe. With being loved as a child by my uncle, I felt, I was safe. A protector from the woman i called my mother. – so If freud had any theories the early childhood linking of love is a pretty solid one for me.

So now I am a month on….. I am free of cervical cancer. I am awaiting a big operation. I am at peace with the people in my life. I love and dote on each one and thank the universe every day for their existence. As I was able to compare the standards I should hold a man too, what a man ‘should’ be and what a person should hope to be. I am never going to be comfortable in my skin, locked in a purgatory with my mind. But, I am comfortable with being uncomfortable. I laugh alot, I smile at every beautiful sky. I watch the way everything can be magic if you look at it from the right angle. I am excited to close a chapter on a person I never thought i could ever possibly not want in my life. But, with what they brought with them, I am happy they took it all with them too. My anxiety is beautiful my nails are long. My quick witt is back and my dark humour. My passion for life and fun and love is seeping from every pour. I broke and now ‘It is time’ to put everything back together again. My way. For me. As thats what i deserve and i will take from the universe, everyone and everything that ignites me.

 

Finally today someone said to me “Being around you luc, it kinda feels like being around someone famous, or different – Like the way you light up, and are so raw and honestly funny. The way your are its like a bubble and when i see you in person its surreal. Its like you give me something, but you dont give me anything. I just feel good” – I am hoping that  what he said i took the right way. I am a spark, I am light, and I can make someone feel alive. Its a gift. Its what makes me, me. And those who meet me or spend anytime with me, will understand what this means. Today soothed my soul in a way i needed it lifted and rejuvenated my energy. (she says at 1am)

 

Its ok to be lost, as long as you’re not lost and hurting people. Thats not ok.

love is a loosing game ……

Tonight I sat in Roath park lake, not a cemetery although i know many within my city that would of welcomed me as they did the dead that lays within them.  I sat there with a coffee on a bench in the dark at midnight like i had two years earlier. This time i was alone, alone with my coffee thoughts and cigarettes. I have always thought how beautiful the water paints light in the day and in the blanket of the night. The different shades of black from the shadows of the trees to the sky to the mood that wrapped around me as i sit still. I watched the water and seen the reflection of my life while destiny and fate took a seat beside me and reminded me of all my past mistakes. Love? I blog so much about it…. Its a funny kind of thing. No words that can accurately describe it… the way it feels the way it makes you think differently and act. When we are in love we stay too long, make stupid decisions, and sometimes don’t even know how to receive love or give it so much that it consumes and kills us. It can be destructive it can be euphoric, it can be irrational and it can be gut wrenchingly powerful. Its the most lethal drug and its free.

I have always panicked that i will love the wrong person or that i wont love the person who loves me as i will be too scared or damaged. I have thought i was in love and when the relationship has ended i realised i wasn’t in love with that person i just didn’t want to be alone. There’s a huge difference in being in love with someone and loving someone. Being in love with someone means you would die for their happiness even if that happiness is not with you, its with someone else. Being in love with someone means that no matter what they have a piece of you, whether they want it or not, it is reserved for just them. I loved once he was a English man and he was everything I could want a human to be…. And i died. Well at least my soul did when we finished. Then i met another English man, and the first time we met for a date he smiled at me and kissed me. In that kiss i tasted the demise of my sanity. He was never one to live by the rules, i don’t think he even knew the concept of them. And i loved him even harder for that. Lana del ray soundtrack became the soundtrack for the first year of our relationship…. to me anyway…. he was ‘my old man’ he had a ‘soul as sweet at blood red jam’ (off to the races) it was the months that pasted and the songs ‘heaven is a place on earth with you’ and ‘being in his favourite sun dress’ – Every song within that album was etched on me.

He was my ‘million dollar man’ he was ‘someone who was dangerous and tainted and flawed’ and ‘i loved him, i loved him, i loved him’ ………… he ‘looked like a million dollar man, so why is my heart broke’ …………..

It is amazing how then two years later the album that has the same affect on me is ‘Hozier’ at first it was just ‘take me to church’ …… then it became every track that i heard that entwined itself within the months that followed ……every lyric… every song….. every hum…. ‘when my time comes around lay me down gently in the cold dark earth ….no grave can hold my body down, i’ll crawl home to her’……..

I wanted to save him, I did. I saved him from one person, and i had to save him from another… himself. But i failed. I failed in saving him from himself. The harder i tried the more he self destructed, the harder i loved him the weaker i became and the more destructive he became……. So i walked away. I told myself i didn’t care if he lived or died. I was a inch away from death…- my own. I was two thoughts away from insanity, and a breath away from breaking and snapping my spine into splinters. I left and i left knowing i failed.  Then he done the unthinkable the unspeakable and the unimaginable …… he saved himself. In a selfish way i hope that by me giving up on him i had saved him. That my pain,my struggle, my insanity, my anxiety my tears my anger weren’t all for nothing, that the shards of my heart are but glitter because thats what had to happen to me in order to save him ………… I hope, because that means my pain and hurting and aching to this day has not been for nothing.

Yet i feel so angry and so annoyed that he saved himself and he is working to be his best self, the person, the boy i saw. The one, the boy  i stayed around for…. for so long. The one i fought for the one i broke over the one who i believed in. This boy is going to go and love another girl in ways i deserved to be loved as i loved him hard and pure. But a little bit of me is glad too that he will love another girl in a better way than he loved me……. he wont hurt another girl the way he did me as he is a better person now. Or will be when he’s done. I have lost my boy…… he’s now a man. And he will make someone so happy and i hope they appreciate what he has done for himself and who he has become….. and i hope they love him sooooo much and he feels it and embraces it and it makes him happy. As that will make me happy. His happiness is everything to me, and his life… even if it is not with me. Why? because the red string of fate says no one is a mistake ….. we know ‘every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around’ ……. and you never know we may meet in another life when we are both cats ; )   But for now we are healing…… grieving and learning. Learning to live without one another, learning to love ourselves and ‘consequences.’ I lost my boyfriend the day i gave up on him, i lost my boyfriend and my best friend. Maybe one day i will get my best friend back………because i miss him to the point of madness as no one ‘got’ me like him….. maybe we will be able to tell each other again one day … maybe when i see him again. Maybe he wont need a best friend like me… he will have a new one. I hope they are as cool as me. I hope they remind him of me.

Until then i have places to travel and uni to finish and goals to achieve i will never be able to say goodbye to him. Its just a ‘see you again/around’ As goodbyes are forever and i hate loosing people forever as i loose a part of my identity, my history …..a part of me, as he will hold a piece of me within him. Thats the punishment you get for loving someone, you loose a piece of yourself as you burry it in them……..so love is a loosing game no matter how careful or reckless you play.

The most unanswered question in history…..

The most scientific and extraordinary minds of the last few decades and even of this era have neither solved or defined what ‘Love’ actually is.  We ask about gravity, its a force, we ask about prehistoric species and evolution. We question quantum theory and the universe, we  know very little about what lurks at the bottom of our oceans. Yet we still ask. Yet where are the questions of what love is? how it came about? who named it love? who discovered this was a emotion a feeling not a sense? How can we know so little about something that governs so much. Why haven’t the different types of love been subcategorised? I love coffee, but not in the same way I love my child. Love is a word that is throw around and used on a daily basis in daily conversations. Both with the people we love and with people who are colleagues.

Love governs us on a spiritual level on a emotional level on a physical level and a mental level. How can one four letter word some up something so big, so complex so mysterious so obvious.

Love the most deadly and destructive drug alongside heroin. Its addictive its yearned for, it changed people, perspectives, personalities, morals senses of who we are, the rights and wrongs of the world. It physically can change us as well as mentally and emotionally. The experiences I have had for me to compare it to one of the most horrendous drugs in the world must tell you something.

 

I always think of love the ‘fantasy type’ the type i want as the poem written by johnDonne ‘The rising son’ The first time i heard or read that poem, i knew i wanted someone to love me like that. I wanted to be that to someone, and i wanted to feel what it was like to be loved by someone so completely that i can almost touch their soul.  I see many poets and writers writing about love, likening it to a summers day, a butterfly or even a personification of a object. Yet when i write poetry about love, I liken it to a hunger starved frenzied fuelled wolf. The ripping of the meat the dying of they prey the oblivious wolf at his own instincts obeying his need for hunger opposed to the precious life of another, whom would not of turned on him through hunger. I suppose that doesn’t make me a hopeless romantic like i once thought i was, maybe it makes me a cynical realist.

 

My experience of love is that ‘ love does not conquer all’ It ‘destroys all’ confidence, self esteem it doesn’t make you feel beautiful it makes you insecure about your beauty. It does not comfort it makes you uncomfortable at the way he can so easily stray. The competition the idealism that i have to compete with with other girls, the images in magazines, and the perfection that so many girls seem to achieve so naturally.  I don’t care much for beauty. I know i am pretty and part of a genetic lottery that i won. Same with my physical appearance my body is slender with curves apple in the right places. I have no stretch marks, beautiful blue eyes, high cheekbones, a splattering of freckles and the ability to be whatever hair colour i desire and still look good. I am intelligent I am smart I am witty, I’am creative and I have my own house, car, business, child etc yet at approaching thirty I have not experienced a love that hasn’t left me scared so deeply that it is more feared than welcomed. Would you welcome a thief into your house after he has stole from you over and over again ? no… you wouldn’t it’s common sense.

 

So when can I ask and who do I ask what love is? why is it craved when its the most deadly thing on earth…… ?

Because simply, when its good……………. nothing else compares to it. When its good its the best drug for your senses to spring to life, for you to glow for you to be excited about. It is the one thing that makes us feel like we are truly someone.

Love is……..

 

It just is the most powerful thing to exist between two humans. I was told recently by a woman that had been married twice and lost her husband of 48 years to cancer three weeks ago to not give up the hope of love. I will share with you her story …..

Her first husband was a bastard and left her with two children, she gave him everything even her love, and was repaid with nothing but abuse and neglect. She met her second husband an used the cliche ‘ It was love at first sight’ As if she could read my mind, she held my arm and said ‘Its ok i didn’t believe in it either’ She then said that from that moment on she she she would marry him. I asked the most obvious question any novice would “didn’t you ever want to walk like leave?” Oh she said ‘We had our ups and down and once i did, I left for six weeks. He had been diagnosed with cancer and i told him don’t you dare die on me and leave me with four kids.” She gave a laugh at the fond memory and i think my heart cracked. I hope one day I can look back so fondly at my time with someone. So I asked why she left….

“I left because he sunk into such a deep depression, he wouldn’t leave the house, and i told him, you are coming to the shop with me, and he protested as his appearance was noticably ill. I told him i didn’t give a damn what he looked like i loved him and i was proud to be with such a fighter. He was mine and i was proud of him. But after he recovered from cancer he ended up taking a lot out on me and he wasn’t the man i married so i left. I had a breakdown and i left i found a little flat and i left. Six weeks and he realised what he had lost how much he loved me and we started dating again and we got back together. And I’m glad we did. It wasn’t easy to trust a man after my first husband, not at all. A cheat and a liar. But my second husband, well he would go out with the boys and get up to some tricks. But he knew who he loved and who made him happy, he knew i was loyal and waiting at home for him. And he respected me and my love enough never to betray me. That is what a man is, a respectable man that knows a woman worth.”

At this point I was crying, yet she was the one who lost her husband five weeks ago or there about, her ‘soul mate’ and i was crying. I had lost someone in a different way seven weeks ago and i wish i could talk as fondly as she could about her husband.

This woman was 76 years old and wore higher heels than i ever could balance in her appearance was pristine and her experience of love amazing. Even the fact on her 25th wedding anniversary they went on holiday and the couple next door were honeymooning, yet the newly wedded couple actually complained about the 25th year married couple for  the ‘noise’ they made. I laughed so hard when i found this out, as she so openly told me. So good sex is also the key to a happy marriage. So i asked her of the wisdom of her experience of love….

Her words simple ‘Don’t give up on love, it does exist the real love the soul mate type does, believe me. But don’t ever settle for anything less than someone loving you the best they can. Do not ever let a love be a sad or fearful type of love, as thats not love. And always be willing to compromise and express your feelings, as someone who loves you will never take them for granted or disrespect them. And most of all, smile, always smile my sweetheart, as its the only time the eyes to our soul opens up, and your eyes look beautiful when you smile.’

How she could see my smile or my eyes through my tears that would not stop creeping down my face i don’t know. But I can’t help but feel a bit cynical about love, as If its so good and soul mates are possible then why haven’t I got that hopeful feeling i once had. What if i had my soul mate and I walked away, how would i know? how would i know if the love of my life has been and gone or is yet to come? I love people in so many different ways and no lover i have ever loved in the same way. They have all been different apart from all hurting me so much it feels like my souls already in hell.

Love – the thing we know so little about but is still the reason we breath

Tearing chunks…..

Whenever i blog, it is always intensely personal, some my ask why i choose to share such personal experiences or details. Like with every image i create it is a release, a release from the emotion. In each image someone will gain something, relate in some way to words or the picture. Everyone can relate to relationships, whether they be platonic, or something else. Everyone can relate to sadness as at some point our sunflower smiles has decayed like the autumn leaves. Throughout the last three years i have experienced a relationship like no other. I found such a deep connection, so powerful. I also experienced such twisted actions and I suppose as human what i endured i projected back. The truth is when is enough ever enough? When your mind has been broken, or your heart? When do you say I cannot do this no more. I say it in a moment of strong, yet my moment of weakness i wish i didn’t. And i long for what i had back. Afflicted with a unbalanced mind is a cruel twist in which fate gave me. Sometimes i can be irrational sometimes i can be logical sometimes i can be predictable other times dangerous. I think too much and love too deep. I have bipolar disorder… though the doctors now think it is personality disorder. Which one i do not care to be labelled with as each are nailed to me with things i cant control. But oh lord from the depths of my soul i wish i could. The way someone can have a best friend, loyal kind and protective to the death. That best fried with unconditional love that you could place your life in their hands. Thats what most people have, thats the relationship most have with their mind. I wonder if it is as calm and comforting as i imagine it to be. I hope that if i was granted a fairytale mine would be to own a mind not a enemy that fights me for every breath i try to gasp.

No one can understand what a mental illness is, not even those who have one i suppose, as we don’t know what its like to be ‘normal’ but for me, being normal sure looks good. People who are ‘normal’ or who do not suffer from the enemy of their mind, can understand other people as they know what its like to feel like the other person, think like the other person. Its like talking the same language. But if you have a fractured mind, you talk another language and even those who do also carry a fracture will only understand so much of what you speak. Like broken english. This effects everything, and makes everything a chore, from even thinking to not thinking, from talking to even breathing. And when you have a unbalanced mind you have these two things that have to be stabilised, a pill is never a cure, if anything its worst. Still alive but barely breathing, is how i would describe medication. It takes the edge of the pain, the edge of the thoughts, but it makes you live and watch people talk  language you wish you could learn. You resent these perfect people who look like they can have these perfect relationships, these stable lives. Then it just makes you sad. Why was i put on this earth to watch this, what punishment is this, its torture.A anti- psychotic pill and a mood stabiliser thats what i take everyday. They are sat in-front of me right now. Almost laughing at the fact i need them more than they need me, without them i’m in a hell on earth. But with them i’m in a hell on earth that makes me less suicidal, less aware… the walking dead in a way. Existing and watching others live.  Have you every thought of the way you turn music up on a hifi system, you turn it up so loud the room shakes with vibrations,nothing is clear everything is just amplified. Yeah well thats the up i get, like i’m a human whose had an amplifier plugged into me where i feel, think , hear everything 100% more than most humans, to the point of insanity. And then on a low, like a person can be paralyzed from the neck down i’m paralyzed from the neck up. My body can work, but my mind tells it no to, my mind shuts down, it hates me and itself and it doesn’t exactly switch of it just lays idle. In a state of limbo… to the point of the only thing you feel is this heavy heavy leaden feeling throughout your body. You want to almost break out of this shell and run, but you cant, because you have been injected with this serum that all hope has just left the world. The colours of everything change, as hope has gone.

When Isolation become your only friend, your thoughts however bully9ing your only comfort.  I have been told i over react i go ‘mental’ when someone hurts me, emotionally. Yes i do. Attack is the first form of defence…. in a way. But when i have thought about why i do this, i know why, because how can you expect someone who feels everything so deeply, react so mildly. The oceans depths are unknown, and its capabilities with such a unpredictable deep thing. How can you not expect a tsunami when it reacts. What did you expect a puddle? Thats kind of foolish of you. logic comes in the form of…. if something happens once, there is no certainty it will happen again. But if i happens twice it will surely happen again. So if someone expects something to happen as it has happened so many times before then logic is that it will happen again. Yet, I am told this is not logic. Maybe thats my fucked up mind, that thinks that this seems accurate. As thats what i am told. I have no logic. I would say its less about logic and more about trust. But if i cannot trust my own mind, how can i expect to trust you or yours. You don’t speak the same language as me ….remember?  How is a person to explain how it feels to another to die if they have never experienced it. I don’t even know what i am trying to say or if i am even saying it properly to a degree where i am somewhat understood.  If a person has coloured skin, its wrong and degrading to call them a nigger. And rightly so. If someone is disabled it is wrong to call them crippled or a retard or spastic. And rightly so, its degrading and humiliating. If someone has a broken mind, people call them a nut case…. a freak. People turn their backs and create more prejudice against these people than anyone else. Why? because how can you understand something you cant see or feel yourself, as a ‘normie’ Skin colour someone can understand they understand history, they understand discrimination and how a colour is irrelevant. People who see a person without a leg, could imagine how hard life might be for them. If someone has special needs, people can see the difference in their actions their appearance.

 

But what if there was a white person, who looked like a ‘normie’ ( a normal person) and they had all limbs, no appearance to assume they are incapable of the things you are. )emotions, stability, ability to process thoughts) You wouldn’t mind sitting with this person on a bus at this point, maybe even being locked in a elevator with them for 48 hours. You would assume you could have a polite, maybe intellectual or funny conversation. Or like humans do, interact to find some common ground of interest to be able to relate to this person and understand them. How about if they spoke Russian and you spoke English and neither of you could understand a word each other said. Well it would be a silent bus journey after you established you cannot relate to each other. And even a awkward 48 hours in a lift of sideward glances and  half hearted smiles.  Now what if the person ended up talking to themselves or less take it back a few steps. Say they spoke english and you did too. And as easy as you asked for their name they can disclose they have multiple personality disorder, bipolar disorder, split personality disorder, or psychosis. Well then you would be counting the stops till the bus pulled in at your stop. The elevator would become a prison where your heart would beat a little faster. And you would pray to god they had taken their medication that day, or they don’t have a episode while you are stuck in this space. You essentially would be on your best behaviour to not provoke a reaction. As most people do not know of the complexities of mental health conditions. Yet most people can name and disclose symptoms of various cancers. maybe its not a stigma maybe its a ignorance. What if this person then started talking to themselves … maybe like a religious person would in pray. This would be alarming, but a nun talking to herself in pray would not. And no doubt when you escaped the journey from the bus or the elevator i’m sure you would say to someone you knew…. ‘ I just got stuck in a lift with a nut job’  but not ‘ i got stuck in a lift with a cripple, or nigger.  Yet to degrade someone who cant change but would love to change their mental health disorder is like condemning a black person for the colour of their skin. It cant be helped.

 

Then how do these people go about living and relating to ‘normies’ they know they are different. They know they are not accepted. But do they go demanding respect or understanding, no…. they hide away isolate themselves in a corner and hope and pray they haven’t got to fight for anything else that day, as fighting with their mind and emotions is hard enough. And too much for them to deal with as it is.  If you do some how encounter someone with a mental illness be a little bit extra kind, they will appreciate it more than anyone. And never ever give or bully anyone no matter how normal they look, because they haven’t got their diagnosis of cancer, or mental disorder, or dementia or Parkinson’s nailed to their forehead. It don’t mean they aint fighting their own battles and loosing their self worth every second … as they are loosing hope.

 

If you ever have the fortune of ever falling in love with someone who has a mental health disorder…. know you have fallen for a warrior who fights every day to be as good and normal as you. Know that certain knocks will have different effects…. they can love deeper than oceans can be measured, but they can react like tsunamis when they feel something they cant control. Know that the person who doesn’t trust their own mind, has to trust you, and your mind, as like a guide dog to the blind you become their logic their reasoning. You become the calming pill no doctor can prescribe…. because no pill has patiences no pill can understand or try to….. no pill possess the ability to love, the strongest most purest emotion in the world. No pill can protect them from harm… no pill can hug you when you cry. Send you words of support, and make you smile with good times. So if you do fall in love with someone with a mental health disorder you could be their panacea… Their cure to a happier more worthwhile life. But also know it will never be easy, but if you can teach each other the language you speak, and how you love and receive love and understand that from each other …. then what other language needs to be spoke… love is a language understood by all….

 

I have a mental health disorder and it adds to me and takes stuff away from me. If i am mental, then when i am not i am funnier than most. If i am sad i am more perceptive and creative than most. If i am a nut job, then i will love and care more than most. If i am weird, then odds are i will surprise you more than most. If i am unstable chances are that i will be more thoughtful or supportive than most. I have flaws and if i cant always speak the same language as you, then just turn it into the language i can speak….. how i receive love, don’t be too angry or mad with me, as i’m probably already angry and frustrated at myself. Insulting me wont help. putting me down wont neither. Because then i will leave bruises on you, just like you have on me. Then we are just two people not in love anymore.

 

Vulnerable bones…

I do notice I do not blog as much as I should. But when I do I always received good feedback, or connect with someone reading. In a good way. So i therefore should do it more frequently. Anyway, heres the update: I have been indoors doing the majority of my shoots as I am playing with lighting a lot more. I always have people say about how I compel a atmosphere or emotion within my images. Which to me means they become more three dimensional. less of a flat image and more of a glimpse into a world a life, a piece of Art. I know I am a Artist whom expresses myself through the medium of photography and photoshop.

I find indoor shooting boring, because theres not as much to work with space wise. This is challenging, so thought I would challenge myself. Thats what being a artist is about. I am not one of these photographers either that take a hundred photos and use three or four images from that shoot. I choose one, the one i deem best. This demonstrates discipline and allows me to identify the best image, which is more professional than a series of ‘the same’ type of images. People need to learn this in photography. Anyway indoor lighting i hated as it looked so fake and set up and fixed. So i have been learning to use it more creatively less studio like. And it has become quite fun.

I also visited a abandoned shopping centre which i will be revisiting to actually  create more images in and work with, or rather practice my lighting. This place was beautiful and haunting at the same time. Unfortunately this was not in the most desirable neighbourhood and my car window was smashed. This was heartbreaking as it demonstrates the mind of society and the lack of humanity. I think the worst part was they didn’t steal anything, they simply just smashed the window. It annoyed me as this would clearly inconvenience me in my life and require me to spend money to fix a problem that could be better used. It is my daughters birthday in two weeks, my nieces in less than five days, and christmas in a week. However, for me to have to use my coat sleeve to wipe broken and shattered glass from my daughters seat for her to sit was the worst moment in my life as far as being a mother goes. As a parent you would lay your life down in less than a heartbeat, defend and protect to the death your child. This incident however i could protect my daughter physically from harm, of the glass as i laid my coat down for her to sit upon. I could not protect her from the reality of humanity, or lack of it. The way in which humans think it is right or just to do this to someones property. To make someone so distressed, to do something and have such little conscious or understanding or even remorse for their actions. This was no accident this was malicious. And it upset me because of this. I did post a picture on my Facebook. And although my faith in humanity was broken, Facebook has ensured that it was restored. I had such a outpouring of support and of kind words and beautiful gestures of help, i actually cried. I didn’t cry over the car, but I did over the goodness in humans.

 

I showed my daughter the messages and kind gestures from Facebook, because more importantly than me being comforted she needed to be. To know that for the fucker that done that to my window, there was many more good people in the world. This she needed to see as this is what she should expect from people and nothing less. Thats for every one person who makes you feel shitty, there are a million more that want to help you and make you feel better.

 

When a few close friends found out about this they pulled through so much for me and have really helped. My partner also has offered to pay for all the damage. And has been so supportive letting me use his car, offering to take my car up to his friend to fix and i can keep his until mine is done. Thankfully however a mechanic i know has gone out of his way to source the glass. As its a convertible it is hard to get hold of and the fact it is a VW beetle. Who has also offered to lend me a car and have mine fixed by Sunday the latest. All for a ridiculously low price. Which he won’t received as i will be sure to tip him a lot for his generosity and humanity. So despite  my bad week, which also seen me full up with a cold and have little bit of a black eye as the shopping centre was so dark i walled into a steel rack…….It hurt so bad. But i got some cool pictures, and I also will be going back and instead of leaving my car there a friend said they will look after my car in the car park while i go into shoot. See this is humanity this is compassion this is consideration this is what the world should be like, then war  and malicious behaviour would be a word, not a consequence. And who knows it may even be taken out of the dictionary as no one would feel the need to use the word to describe such a situation or people.

 

I suppose a world like that would be lovely, but …………….. impossible as the seven deadly sins actually are a part of being human. Though so is being conscious enough not make good and bad decisions is also why humans are supposedly more superior than our primates.  Well some of us are.

It was for the best…..

Sometimes, only sometimes can i say i have done something for the best and it hasn’t worked out that way. It is true everyone who fights a war thinks they are right. No one person, decent person would choose to make a decision for the wrong reasons, for themselves and others to suffer. I have crossed paths with many people and discovered alot about myself and the world i live in. Not every discovery has been met with welcomed arms, and fondest memories. People included. But its the way we are shaped and taught for future encounters. I often am asked if i believe in God, I do not. That neither makes me a lesser person or a more narrow minded person, i think it incorporates a more open mind about possibilities. I do not believe in a god, or multiple gods, if people actually throughout researched their religion with a open mind they would see the many flaws in theories and encounters and transcripts. The fact a few hundred years ago the church and religion was profitable, and a controlling dictatorship. But only those willing to live in the reality of the world will see. I am neither a Atheist, I do believe in the spiritual world. I also believe in science as there are facts proven studies. I believe humans have come such a distance from the spiritual connection they could have with themselves, others and the world. The energy in which all living things are made of are all connected and somewhere we have lost the frequency in which we use to be connected too. The most damaging is technology, the birth of the internet, i say that as a hypocrite who is using this medium to communicate on, because that is now the only way to communicate with someone. Via a electronic device that emits energy enabling us to connect with one another. Its quite sad, the fact we become so reliant on this form of communication and the internet instead of being used to research, expand, and enlighten us as human beings is being used as a basic form of communication. Instead of researching we are facebooking, instead of gaining knowledge we are gaining lives or likes on some social platform. The world has become alot less three dimensional. We like or save pictures on our phones and devices, but how many can we hold, as a actual photograph. The beautiful sights of places are being clicked away at and splashed all over social media, yet how many people actually sit and look, actually look at the details, feel the vibe, the atmosphere and indulge in the moment rather than trying to capture it. I again sound like a hypocrite as a photographer. Though i do print off my photographs, i ensure i enjoy the moment rather than capture it, if i do capture it its a bonus but if i dont enjoy the moment there was no point. I do not read beauty magazines, i have no interest in fashion, or the shallow industry and models they represent. I do not like consumerism or politics but i watch the psychology of them.  And the direction in which they are going is shocking.  I suppose i wonder why alot, why people are as shallow as they are, with their looks, other peoples, material objects, and money. I would love more than anything for a ban to be put on the internet every social platform for one day or a week, and watch people realise how they have all forgotten how to communicate like actual humans. That their self worth comes from themselves and not likes on a image, that beauty is what you see in the moment not through the camera on your phone, or the image splashed across a magazine. The fact that relationships are worth more as the next girl friend or rebound is not a friend request away. That the instant access to people is something that only true friends and family should have, not random strangers. That privacy is a actual thing, and how do you expect other people to value yours if you do not value it yourself. The world has drasically changed, but i see it change for no better. Girls show more flesh on their media sites than they do when they go swimming, skirts have got shorter, mind you so have shorts, and morals have become a thing of the past. One generation not so long ago a lady was a lady, and a man was a gentleman, a mans word was his oath, and a woman’s self respect was a prized attribute. Now a woman’s arse, pout or breast are that, and a mans word is a reliable as the British weather. When did these attributes, manners, morals and principles become extinct? And more importantly why is no one citing a war to revive them. I would love to blame technology, but unfortunate technology is useless without its user.