Sparking a Journey

It’s the initial spark, of creativity, of enthusiasm or drive, once that spark is ignited it can rage. Bipolar can be described as having a million tabs on a computer open, I agree, but imagine if all those tabs lets just say ten, for now, those ten tabs are playing different songs all at one time. Then add another ten tabs, and these tabs are playing ten different movies, then another ten that are playing tutorials. Then imagine taking ten different phone calls at the same time and talking and responding to ten different people, all while these other tabs blaze at you. Hard to imagine anything more than ten songs playing at the same time? hard to comprehend? yeah, i have heard people say that. But imagine, if you can, all these open tabs and the phone calls and imagine that you are in a shop shopping, or out with friends drinking, and this is all playing. Uncomprehensible? Yeah, it’s also hell to deal with. That’s minus the added side effect of anxiety, which makes you feel like you are drowning, your breathing becomes shallow, your emotions whirlwind and rip through you like a tornado, and your heart beats so fast, that it makes you feel sick, actually sick. This is bipolar, this is also minus the paranoia of people talking about you, conspiring against you. This is exhausting for a person to deal with, reason people with bipolar end up in a manic state is to try to occupy as much of their focus they can muster into one thing, to keep active, to not be able to think, or rather listen to their thinking. The reason the lows happen is because exhaustion has taken over, the bipolar has one, and the blanket of petrol is suffocating your body, and you are just waiting again for the match to drop the blanket to ignite, just so you can feel something, other than this demonic despair. So a flash of heat can maybe trigger a manic state, so you feel euphoric and alive.


I am struggling massively lately with this spark, I have given up uni and i thought straight away I would be able to throw myself into the fire of creativity. It’s not happening. I spoke to my therapist and she said that with any prolonged pressure or injury, there needs to be a recovery time. So this is my recovery time, I thought I would throw myself into reading and writing and editing and photography, and my business, but I can’t. Not yet. It feels like any minor activity is a triumph, even going to the post office or out of the house. But as long as I am doing ‘something’ i am told that it is helping my recovery. So I research photographers, I look at art I am inspired, I have compiled a book of drawings which i will turn into photographs, and blog posts to accompany them. I am spending a lot of time with my Dad, as it feels safe to be around him, and my uncle. I am focusing on the day, and not the tomorrow, and I am enjoying nice hot long baths. But motivation at the moment is absent, and so is the confidence to do anything. Another perk of bipolar or manic depression. I have contemplated reducing my pill’s, and tempting a manic episode so I can kick start the motivation. Though I haven’t as I don’t want to burn out, I want to be steady, or as steady as I can be.


This image is to represent that although you can have many great ideas, many great aspirations and goals, sometimes the timing of achieving them is not as important as the journey in which you will achieve them.


They are alive……

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

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

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

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


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


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

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



whispering void…..silent noise

what can change in a second? ………….Everything.

Life, being and living. What you include, what you loose, what you abuse and those things you dont choose. Thats life, the innocent moments of thoughts and naïvety ( my favourite). The carefree laughs and awe in which you stare ( my most favourite). Then the touch that somehow reaches your soul ( i have too many favourites). All these beautiful things that make life worth living, and the soul alive. When you wake up with that person you love asleep next to you. When you coil your limbs in that person, wanting to loose yourself in their sleep, while listening to their rhythm of breathing. The innocence on their face, and their scent on your pillow. I think there is nothing more beautiful than to lay asleep at your most vulnerable with someone, knowing you will sleep safe, they wont hurt you. It seems a somewhat given? Then why does this change when eyes open and brains engage, neither are less vulnerable? But this is when the pain hurts the most, this is when you get hurt the most, when hearts quicken with what the eyes see and the soul is now aware.

What type of person are you? are you the type of person that sees the innocences in your lover when she/he is asleep and couldn’t dream of taking a knife and thrusting it into their heart? Like you would if you cheated/lied to them when they are awake. Or less say something a little less extreme, would you wake your lover from a sleep, a dream, to tell them the lies you have hid, the cheating you have done. Its just not done is it? then why do people do it when someone is awake. Do they deserve it more then? or is it as soon as they leave your bed, they leave their loyalty, dignity and love for you in their dreams, or in their sleep.

I suppose this is a cynical way of looking at something but never the less, its a truth.

We live in such a throw away society, that pains my heart, marriage is as disposable as razors. Divorce is chosen quicker than the next days outfit. Women seem to have lose morals and little self respect, and men seem to indulge at every opportunity in the variety of this. Technology could be blamed, but the user controls the technology and not the other way around. Though it is true, it is easier to find these types of girls with instant access to sleazy dating sites.

Men hate to be called sleazy and are so quick to condem other men for being a sleaze, yet their very actions, thoughts, lies and behaviour is that of what they hate.  Yet they so easily allow themselves to become this. But this is a arrogant man, who is arrogant in everything, advice, life, love and hard work. As to be a respectable man is a choice that requires discipline, same with women. And discipline takes confidence, self awareness and hard work. But the one thing it takes more of than anything else is integrity. To know that the person that loves them is worth more than the four they are already contemplating as shinny new options. The age old saying of ‘is the grass greener on the other side.’ The answer easy. Name one man who has traded his wife for his mistress, to find his mistress leave’s him. Karma? or even better the relationship fizzles out? and he realised how empty his life is without his wife, and the story always has the twist.

The twist? Im glad you asked.

I wonder how many marriages are still together because the man or the woman who cheated was taken back by their partner?

And i wonder how many marriages are broken because they cannot forgive that person, trust that person?

And then i wonder how many mens mistress’ lasted longer than the divorce proceedings.

The Twist? that you cant predict how it will end. But the thing you will know is that nothing will ever be the same again, in your world or theirs when you decide to betray the ‘love’ that was given purely.

Hurt people, hurt people. They cannot help it i suppose, there are excuses that can be made, but then it gets to a point when every excuse has been exhausted. Every tear has been shed and every sob has been sobbed. The confidence is smashed like a mirror and trust is as apparent as sunlight dust.

To me effort is everything in a relationship, it doesn’t matter how damaged you are, respect and effort is of importance for recovery. Make the effort to make them secure. Give respect in the form of honesty. Effort is a key factor if you cant be bothered to make a effort anymore, to make them smile, to say hi, or even to let them know that there is a part of their heart that belongs to you. Then there is no incentive for the other person to make the effort as they dont feel loved. Would you? another void to suck out the happiness….

Sex is such a big part of a relationship and initmacy and strengthens the bond of love. Sadly however when the effort is not made in this area either another void is consuming your relationship. If you are a selfish lover, you are a selfish person. As you do not meet or understand the needs and wants of your relationship or partner.

The whispering void of blame and noise, ‘I dont do this because you dont do this, or you act like this.’ I would do that if you didnt do this’ so many people argue over the littlest things, to keep finding fault with someone is to sabotage yourself, no one is perfect. But if you find that one person, who has stood by you through the good and the bad. laughed along with you and supported the most idiotic decisions you have made as well as pushing you to some of the best you have made. Stop nagging, stop bitching, and just be thankful you have someone who loves you enough to be there no matter what. But if you are that person and you get nothing in return, no appreciation, or respect, or effort. My advice is walk, as these people will never know what they had infront of them as they were to busy looking to the side, and out for themselves. And no matter what you do it will never be enough, as these people are too damages to understand the purity of love, and what it is, its just a word they think they understand.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


It can be …… whatever you so wish it to be.

The freedom of a artist is boundless, as boundless as the mind it is conceived in and born through whatever medium deemed by said artist. I guess I am luckier than most, because I have a mental health disorder and i take little pills that keep me as balanced as they can. I often wonder however without such medication what i would be like, and i find it quite said that the chemical imbalance in my brain causes me to live with such a stigma. A stigma that is attached to anyone with a mental health disorder. I know that based on my family, that I am different from them. I have such little in common with them, and it causes me to drift further away mentally and emotionally, and also physically. I see them maybe once every two weeks, maybe. My mother does not understand my illness and as a parent feels somewhat responsible, as for all intents and purposes she created me. I understand this as i am a mother myself. However how she handles such a situation is completely different to what i would with my daughter. But as individuals we handle things different. Me and my mother are not close, she is closer to my younger sister which is understandable as she can relate better to her. Me and my mother have one thing in common our love for my daughter. My sister another subject, we have nothing in common, at one point when she was growing up when i had moved out at 15 were so close and during the period of me being 17 she lived with me and my daughter. I know all families are different, i do not envy families whom are close, as to me, to keep everyone happy is somewhat exhausting. I cant help but wonder however what a close family would entail, a curiosity like anyone would have.

I find it fulfilling however that I have such a private life from my family, although i actually have a sister and mother i find my family is my daughter and partner which is nice. Its like a subdivision that im a major fan of. Those this does pose some issues, As a mother i often wonder about my illness in later years with my daughter. WHen i relapse like everyone with a mental health disorder eventually encounters. I have had two relapses in the last four years. One was primarily due to stress with uni and my partner his ex and a situation that was pure hell. As she was lying he was lying and i didnt know what to believe. Thankfully all that has been dispelled despite a little cloud still being there. Her checking my blog daily and a few times a day, my facebook page, within seven minutes of me uploading something the hit was clicked. Although this does not bother me, its somewhat flattering in a way, it also makes me think why? so then i check her stuff every couple of weeks. And still bitterness ensues. Although she likes to think she has the upper hand unfortunately still does not, knot knowing that my phone has changed and my internet provider three months ago and what she talks about in-depth with on her social media sites has no interest to me. I visit her twitter occasionally because of her daily visits to my in-depth blog, and flickr account. Considering such a toxic situation was apparent with us I am unsure what she thinks she is gaining or what she thinks she is gaining, or winning, by constantly mentioning her ex or having digs. Unfortunately the only person whom perceives themselves as mental unstable at the moment is not me but her. But because i have a label, I have the stigma attached. Which leads me to think that the most dangerous and unstable people are those whom are not diagnosed yet. As they are blind to their own mental state, deeming it as normal. when it is anything but that.

I am a pretty open person regarding my illness I also volunteer a day a week at a call center to offer support to those with mental illnesses, and I attend a self help counselling group whereby i counsel people whom suffer from self harm. This has made my life be somewhat more meaningful. Alot of the people i counsel with self harm are young girls, and this is so alarming. AS a mother i want to hug them, but as a person whom knows and experienced this myself all i can do is educate them, and their families. Their parents namely as this is where the biggest misconception lies in the parents view on this. I know this sounds alarming for those whom do not suffer with the impulses to harm themselves but i think it healthy and normal. A ancient tribe practice this, and call it blood letting. In which they view it as releasing and cleansing their souls through releasing negativity and toxins from the body.  I find people whom binge drink odd, or people who go out start fights, or take drugs, as self harm is seen as a coping mechanism, but so are so many other ‘normal’ things. I use the word ‘normal’ as society deems these acceptable but self harming is not. Maybe its just my perspective, maybe its just i think different because of my illness. But i wouldnt change the way I am ever. And if bipolar makes me think this way and provides me with little additional gifts of intelligence and creativity that defines me different from my family, I say I am glad that I have this disorder.


V ………for Vendetta…

V..... for Vendetta

So the photography world, full of inspiring one of a kind images, and bad replica’s. The world of photography has its humble photographers and its fame hungry egotistical ones. Such is life. When a following of a specific ‘photographer’ is over shadowed by other ‘pursuits’ in which they have gained recognition. And still endorse these within their photography to enhance their reputation over their skills it is some what disappointing to those of us whom have started from scratch and have gained a genuine following through nothing else but our work and vision within the artistry of the photography sphere. Therefore no matter what way in which someone gains recognition their platform was always that of other means. It is normally these photographers that slate, and criticise and judge other peoples work the most. Which is something i find amazing considering they have a disillusioned version of their ‘starting point’ and their ‘work’ alongside their absolutely meaningless conceited opinions.

On the other hand it also provides other photographers with the opportunity to put their work out their to show them how it is done ‘properly’.

on a unrelated note of my observations of tragic behaviour and opinions, today is the 21st of June which means by tomorrow Wales will be a more beautiful place. This is something that has made me smile like crazy for the last couple of days. A celebration has been put in place to mark this event. And my summer will be perfect ……… lots of shoots, a few weekends away and obviously a lovely holiday with my favourite people in the world. Also i have received four requests and deposits for my new business which has proved to be more sort after than i anticipated. But it is doing something i adore  therefore my life is complete.