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.




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.

I am not sorry……………..

These last few weeks have been another rolla-coaster. I have started uni and college back up, i have had a relationship break down due to infidelity (his not mine, as usual) and I have enjoyed some of the best days of my life in his absence. It is funny how these break ups work, as before i had a ache when we broke up, A void i desperately tried to fill, with coffee, activities, reading and outings, alongside obviously my poetry and my photography. Now, there is no ache. The ache became so strong because i was so weak. He had the power, he made me feel unworthy, and unequal, so i took the power back and stopped loving him. I did, and it worked. I seen him for who he was, and i realised that he never made me happy, or feel safe or secure. He did nothing positive for me, but i loved him anyway. Thats the cruel thing about love, sometimes you have to be hurt to the point of being dead, before you can be resurrected. When you know, hey this isn’t my fault, your whole world changes, your self worth changes and you perspective changes.

See it is them we always think have to change, they have to stop cheating, they have to stop lying, they have to stop being so selfish. This is absurd because it isnt them that has to change it is you, you have to change. Its you that has to not want to be treated like this anymore and stop allowing them to treat you like this, only them will your life, your heart and soul heal.

This image is a very simple image, and thats what i wanted it to be, because of the simplicity of life, and freedom, and what living is. You can have a simple life if you choose or you can complicate your life. I chose to finally give myself some much needed simplicity and it is the most valuable and beautiful thing i have done for myself. This shoot was the best day of my year, i spent it with my friend and daughter. We swan we laughed we shot, and we ate, and we relaxed. I was free of anxiety, of stress, my mind for once was completely focused on the day i was in the day mentally and emotionally as well as physically. I wasn’t thinking, ‘what is he doing’ i wasn’t looking at my phone, i was fearing what he was up to or who he was speaking to. I was just living for me, and it felt amazing. I know how hard a break up can be i know how hard it is some days to even get out of bed, or even make it through a hour without crying. I understand the sense of loss and the sense of loneliness i do. I have been through it all, never thinking you will ever smile or feel normal again, or even happy. But it happens, i promise, i really do, the moment you start concentrating on you.

Then the inevitable comes, the message from him, the apology, the realisation of what he has done. But I am not sorry, I am not sorry he done what he done, he done me a favour, he killed the last bit of me. And i thank him for that because from my death i was reborn.  And sorry means nothing when its done again and again, he was only sorry he got caught again. I am sorry i stayed too long I am sorry i made so many excuses for him, I am sorry i wasn’t better to myself, and loved myself more to walk away sooner. Don’t relieve my mistakes, know your self worth and never let anyone devalue you…….


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.


The predictable….

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


Lonely bones……

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

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

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

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