Tag Archives: art

Push or die?

I will not be participating in Inktober this year due to lack of supplies and lack of money to buy new supplies.

I will not ask for a crowdfund for Inktober, I have had friends online suggest I do this, but I am uncomfortable with that.  Also, I don’t think I’d have the time between now and my deadline to do four hours of artwork per day on top of it all.

I am having a hard time emotionally in the last few weeks, lots of bad news in the family, near and far. 

Really, instead of sticking to my deadline I should take a couple of weeks off everything but housework and child rearing to recuperate; but I set this goal and I won’t forgive myself unless it is accomplished, even if I don’t get an agent like I want to, at least I can say I did try on my set timeframe.

I will miss doing Inktober, I enjoy this event every year and I tend to do my best artwork during those times (autumn theme is the best), but this year I just can’t manage the time to do it.

I am juggling my own mental health problems along with my son’s problems and Paul’s stress about the heat or eat crisis here in the UK as well as general family grief over the diagnosis of cancer of two relations, the death of a cousin and the loss of a child friend who recently broke her back horse-riding and has to live for several months in a hospital fifty miles away and my own yet to be diagnosed neurological issue.

Henry’s issues are existential, he is having gender crisis issues and is suicidal because he wants to be both genders at the same time, but is being severely bullied at school over it as well as his very elaborate fashion tastes, a penchant for pink, faux fur and glitter as well as tailored clothing; it isn’t so bad, but he is being picked on because of his surname and the fact that he speaks excellent King’s English – in other words he is quite posh for the area.

The bullies threw sticks and stones at the house at the start of the year, the police had to deal with it.

It is hard to manage his behaviour at times, because he is constantly punishing himself physically and it is exhausting to constantly be his sentinel to watch him and physically stop him harming himself.  Paul blames Dobby from Harry Potter for him starting this, because before Henry got into Harry Potter, he’d never harm himself.  Although people find Dobby funny, living with a child who is re-enacting what Dobby does is far from humorous, it’s downright blooming scary, especially when the child starts punching himself in the chest during dinner and forgetting he has a knife and fork in his hands!

This is not the reason however, that Paul and Henry often argues with each other over, on the contrary, it’s almost everything, they see eye to eye on very little.

For me it is mostly mental exhaustion, because Henry is particularly challenging lately.  I am also exhausted because I have no social life and the only person I have to talk to is exhausted both physically and mentally to the extent we hardly talk more than twenty minutes per day together alone anymore – Paul.

I haven’t written towards my novel since the 20th September 2022, hopefully by this posts scheduled date I’d have written more towards it, but it is difficult. 

I am trying to keep myself active in some kind of creativity though, mostly poems and scheduling blog posts, reading about how to structure different kinds of poetry and learning about screenwriting, just to keep doing something to keep me sane.

But I have to say, I am struggling to make sense about anything and I am pretty sure in a couple of months’ time, when things have calmed down a bit more and I re-read this month’s posts, I will wonder where the heck my mind was all through these weeks?

A couple of friends of mine have DM me who are already published authors, they believe because of my stressful time and because it is generally a bad time of the year for finding representation, that I should hold off until February – but I am debating this.

You see, I fully want to approach an agent before Christmas, because I’ve planned it for so long.  January I will start my YouTube channel and I will look into affiliate programs and my blog will become more focused too, with photographs of me and my artwork etc.

I am determined that life starts at forty and I am forty on the 3rd October 2022.

Paul is super stressed out by my proclamation of starting a new life in October, because he sees his cup as half empty and doesn’t see how I am able to do all my plans for a new life, when we can’t pay our heating bills and our food budget is going to be halved from next month. Remember I’ve said in the past I don’t go to doctor appointments anymore, because we can’t afford the taxi fare, well, whether I am sick or not from next month or onwards, I can only go now in a life or death situation, meaning I am neglecting myself medically all the more!

It’s that or food, or it used to be like that – now its the doctor, food or heating and we’re choosing food right now, we’ve stocked up on hot water bottles and over the years we’ve bought fleece blankets, thank goodness!

But I say, financially our lives will improve from January, because I am stubborn and I will make something happen, I am not like Paul – I don’t like making do and I don’t like making excuses for being in poverty, I don’t whine and sit back hoping for someone to give me a leg up.

I was bedbound sick for years, but I eventually got a little better and now able to do more around the house – but still not strong enough for my January plans – but still, I am going to force it, because I can’t stand this life!

I refuse to tolerate it any longer!

Paul has convinced himself our relationship is over once I get published, because he doesn’t see why I would want to stick around, it’s almost like he is pushing me away these days.

My choice is to push myself out of the mud no matter what the pain or the embarrassment or commit suicide; one or the other and I chose life!

Happy reading…

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Filed under Home and Family

Abstract poetry rookie

I was always confused by poetry; especially the poetry which doesn’t rhyme because I was always taught that poems must always rhyme, when in fact, this isn’t so.

I have learned recently through a book called “how to grow your own poem” by Kate Clanchy that there is something in the world called “Abstract poetry” which doesn’t necessarily require you to rhyme your words, in fact by doing so it can come across as boring, predictive and limited.

Much like trying to understand abstract art, I am now in the process of trying to learn to understand abstract poetry and I have to say, I am finding this more difficult than the art.  I know that art is subjective, but words mean a lot to people, how can you be abstract with your written words and people to understand what the heck you are saying to them?

With art you should paint what you feel and you don’t need to explain yourself if you don’t want to, because the person who buys your art would find it visually appealing for them – but with words, that’s different surely a few things that mean a lot to me pulled together would utterly confuse another person reading them?

Let me try for example to do this now, in a state of total ignorance to abstract poetry;

My Heart (is the title)

Butterflies weep within the cage that is placed within my chest

Their wings breathe me life, sorrow and love

Nobody can see my caged butterflies, but I know they are there

Flittering around the cage, crying at beauty and pain alike

Those butterflies want to be free, but they are trapped

They know that if they found freedom I would die

My life is everything to them

Now for me this is beautiful, it totally explains how I feel within my heart and what my heart means to me, but did anyone else feel it too?  Maybe I have been too sheltered to understand that these things other people can feel and understand, but I would like to think that the above poem wasn’t too difficult to grasp.  If the above indeed was what true abstract poetry is all about, then I think I would love doing more poems like that about other things.

But is it what’s expected by people who understand and have experienced abstract poetry?

If you know anything about abstract poetry, please let me know if I have understood it, or whether or not my poem wasn’t vague enough… if that’s possible?

Thanks for reading!

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Filed under About my work, poetry

Artwork of never Part 1 (p1)

Based on my, “Say goodbye to the blue”, poem.

1st picture

The moon crying tears down onto a world, causing chaos and flooding in human cities. 

2nd picture

A happy girl giving a depressed girl a key wrapped up in a pink bow as a gift with a tag that says “key to happiness”.

3rd picture

A person swimming upstream of a river filled with thorns and rocks.

4th picture

A thoughtful girl with a chess board, thinking hard about her next move, each chess piece is different; the king is a golden microphone, the queen a shopping voucher, the bishops representing two potential love choices, etc.

5th picture

The depressed girl, sailing with a hopeful smile on her face out of the river of thorns, stones and urine and into the blue sea of hopeful happiness, filled with islands all the things that could bring her joy!

6th picture

The depressed girl, no longer depressed, but happy, smiling up and waving goodbye to the blue crying moon in the distance of the shadowlands whilst she is on her island of happiness and sun!

These art pieces would take me thirty to fifty hours to produce, hence why they are the artworks of never; they are likely never to be produced.

Sad I know, but if you saw the post yesterday you’d understand why.

Happy reading!

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Filed under Arts & Crafts

The speed of thought

I wish my brain could make my body work in the same pace as its imaginations; I’d be prolific, drowning in art work and stories and it would be amazing – but no, it is never going to happen!

I think about too much and so little actually gets physically manifested because my daydreams are lightning fast.

I really meant it when I have said in previous posts, I don’t suffer from artist or writers block, I suffer from artist and writers overload!

You have no idea that in every poem I write and post on the blog, there are three or more pieces of art that are not being produced to go with it, because I can’t paint that fast!

Every painting I have done in the past takes an average of three hours, but anywhere between ninety minutes and six maybe even seven hours a time!  That’s just one piece of art!

You have no idea how much I wish everything I think of would physically manifest, the exacting art ideas I have, the exact stories, the exact movies, the exact music and the exact songs – but I manage to physically manifest so little of it, because of lack of time and speed ability, in fact I don’t even believe I produce a whole 1%.

You have no idea how I am obsessed with my imagination and how it consumes my daily life to the extent that I often forget to live in reality!

Paul is both a blessing and a curse for this, because he will happily allow me to be consumed by it all, whilst feeding me and keeping me as comfortable as he can – but he doesn’t like to interfere with my daydreams AT ALL!  It scares me when he dies someday, it scares me because I am so consumed by it all that if he were to die tomorrow, I might die a few weeks later because I will forget to feed myself, I will forget to live and he doesn’t shake me out of it, like others have done in the past and I have told him – that could be dangerous, but he doesn’t take it seriously.

I wish he would, because I am quite serious – I would forget to live when he dies, especially when he dies, because the more I grieve or the more stressed I am, the more I lock myself away and go into what I call an “astral travelling adventure” where I am quite literally channelling through my body to write or paint, and often I don’t hear or feel anything in that state, once in it. 

It is hard to get into that state initially if there is discord around the house, but if I go into it before the arguments and ructions start, I can’t hear it… its weird and I doubt I am making sense to those who don’t experience the same as I do.

There are times when Paul wants to feed me, where he knows I can’t hear him or see him, no matter what he does, but he touches me and like a sleepwalker I am literally shocked back into reality and have a little panic attack and calm down and then he tells me that dinner is ready.

It really is like that for me.

Sometimes I thought I should cheat.  I should write my poems and then explain what the art should have been, but probably would never get done by me.  Just so I can show you more.  But then I thought; you wouldn’t understand what I am trying to achieve or understand why I would do that, so should I bother?

I’d really like to paint at least one poem a week, for my YouTube channel that will start at the end of the year.  I could paint a picture a day, anything up to seven pictures in time for the vlog, but that is probably all I could do.  I couldn’t do anymore art, if I did that without it affecting my stories and sleep time.

Paul likes the idea but also he is a realist and he believes that it would hugely affect how much writing I will produce.

He knows I love art more than writing, but he loves my writing more than my art.  He hasn’t experienced much of my music, so he has no opinion on that.

 I really do wish that I could physically produce all that I think about at the same speed as my thoughts.

Happy reading!

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Filed under About my work

Visuals & symbolism

Passions are what makes people succeed, a lot of people make presumptions about my passions because they observe things that I allow them to see, but ultimately they are wrong.

I am mostly stimulated by visuals, it is agonising to write, but I have no confidence in my art and drawings. 

People think that being a writer I write because writing is my passion – not so, what drives me to write is the prospect of the art whether in movies or paintings.  I like visuals a lot.  I often speak with Paul about how I wish I was a better artist and a faster one, so that I can draw the scenes I see in my head and then just write snippets of what those images are about.

But in my opinion my art is naff, but my writing is good.

I really want to be the artist behind my graphic novels I am working on, but I just can’t make the grade I have set for myself, for that to make me feel yes it is complete and it is wonderful… you know?

You should know that a lot of people are confident in my ability as an artist, but I am not.  Because my art is not exactly how I see it in my head; my art is too cartoon and manga like, when I want my art to reflect more realism or at least CGI quality.  Talking of which, I don’t do digital art – which would make the CGI concept actually happen, but I am trying to create CGI quality artwork manually! 

I have never learned to do digital art; I wouldn’t even know where to start other than Photoshop.

So yeah, laugh at me, because I laugh at myself regarding this too!  So why not!  Haha!

The writing is wonderful, I don’t fault it much and I am not being cocky either, I am proud of what I have written so far – but I am disappointed in my artistic ability to provide the visuals for it.

For me, writing is a painful and often stressful experience when piecing ideas together – but when I am researching and brainstorming it’s one of the best things ever! 

Writing for fifteen to twenty five minutes stretches, feels like two hours and I often feel drained after doing it, I often need exercise or something to wake me up from it! 

Doing art on the other hand is the only thing in my life where my attention span hasn’t got in the way – for some reason or another I can paint for six hours and then feel that I’ve only done it for half an hour and I always come away from the work feeling happy and energised – the same with music!

Unfortunately I can’t afford my supplies, so I can’t work on art every single day like I really want to!  I just can’t afford it!  I don’t think you really realise just how bad things are for me here, we often rely on charity support and it’s going to get worse between now and November.

Other than visual stimulus my other stimulus used to be sound – but around seven or eight years ago I caught an infection which had permanently reduced the hearing in my only functioning ear, which means there are many sounds I can no longer hear, including certain beats and instruments in my favorite songs on the radio!

I have reduced ability for scent too and poor eyesight without spectacles or contact lenses.  Quite literally I am slowly losing my senses.  Mostly due to the NHS not being able to support maintaining my treatment, which would slow this down!

This is why making a life for myself now is very important, my main goal for trying to earn money via affiliate programs, a YouTube channel, my art etc by the end of this year is to help finance me for private care; where I can have my ear rebuilt, because I need an ossicleplasty to regain hearing from one of my ears as the mastoid infection destroyed two ossicles completely. 

I also need my nose fixed because the hospital didn’t bother to repair the cartilage I broke when I broke my nose three or four years ago and it often shifts out of place and causes pain – but it’s not life threatening so they felt it can wait!  Also I have enlarged adenoids which affect my breathing and sense of smell.

Since I was a kid I wanted to do art movies based on my ideas, songs and poems, but I was lead to believe that you need to be rich to do it. 

I have made online friends through twitter recently which has taught me that it is nonsense, you don’t need to have a single penny to do it and they are showing me how.  I have asked for the course to be paused until September 7th, because I want to concentrate on it thoroughly and it is hard to do so when Paul and Henry are having screaming matches in front of me every five minutes.

It’s exciting to think I can go back to my childhood dreams.

It is also rather a strange coincidence that I am getting a lot of “inner child” symbolism and cues around me a lot lately, including with a YouTube pick a pile tarot reading, which connected the pile chooser to the arts and two decision paths whilst healing the inner child; but also, I am having a lot of bizarre dreams that I am four years old again and I am decorating my house with all the things my childhood self ever wanted, care bears, kawaii stuff – you name it, it’s so weird how this is all connecting together!

I am having a lot of dreams that I am packing boxes ready to move house and that when I get to the new house, I am unpacking things I don’t have, pretty things, things that make me happy, things that a child would want!  It’s like a prediction of abundance and joy!

I hope it is a prediction, because I really need to find my happy place, a place to play.

Happy reading everyone! 

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Filed under About my work

Juggling my life

I believe my previous post was due to being down in the dumps because whilst Henry is off from school for the summer holidays, I find it impossible to write as much as I want to; therefore, I resent writing much more during those times.

When Henry is out of the house I write, but I have to discipline myself to do it when he is out, that or practising my Italian – I know I should prioritise the writing, but for me, both are just as equally important. 

I have got it into my head now that whilst Henry is off from school, even if I write just one paragraph in the day towards my projects, it is progress and therefore I don’t believe I should be harsh on myself for how small the progress is; progress is progress, no matter how small!

But it is easy to fall into the whine trap, especially when you feel desperate to add those snippets you want to towards your work but can’t as it’s hard to concentrate with noise and arguments behind you!

I often find myself leaving the living room to go upstairs to cry, but these days I don’t have much chance to do that because Henry is becoming more controlling lately.  He is starting to follow me and he isn’t letting me have much time alone.  I understand why he is so clingy lately, but I need my space too!

I know that he knows I am unhappy and I want my own space to the extent I have discussed quite openly with Paul about the concept of me having another home.  What I mean is a place of my own, where I don’t necessarily live there all the time; I can’t fully abandon them!  Just somewhere I can go to get a break.  It’s likely I will only really use this alternative place as once or twice a week retreat to help me do my creative pursuits in an organised and happy place and unlikely I’ll sleep there; as I said before, I don’t like doing anything alone!

At the moment I can’t finance that, I am working on it; like I am working on many things, not just writing several novels to get into publication. 

I am working on my health, fitness, diet management.

I am studying really hard how to make movies or do screenwriting and setting up my own YouTube channel as well as entering an amateur dramatics and writing group.   

I am trying to get this house in order because it’s falling apart due to age and storm damage.

I am trying to manage the garden in between my neighbour going out, because he is still a problem.

I am trying to manage the problem of toxic people from my past trying to get involved in my life and online haters and it’s difficult, but it’s getting slowly solved.

I am trying so hard to heal mentally and get rid of the dark thoughts of suicide.

Amongst all of this I do know and fully understand that writing has little or no money unless I can make it big… this is a pie in the sky dream for every writer!

So, I am also trying to make a living outside of writing professionally.  I am currently self-studying affiliate programs, marketing and so forth – to help me with my other passion; art and also practising art too!

To top it all, I am trying hard to learn how to socialise in a non-weird awkward way, because I have been isolated for most of my life and have been wrongly taught that everyone is aggressive and out to hurt or use you.

I am also looking forward to next spring, when Paul reckons we can most definitely get a dog, a dog will help not only be my companion in the other place, when I get it – but it will also give me the confidence to go for walks alone and a purpose to wake up in the morning, just to walk it! 

So much I am trying to do and all at once, because my ultimate goal is to have a life.  I’ve not had one yet, really, just existed really, but not lived!

Yes, I feel spread thin, but it all needs to be done, because I can’t put any of it on a back bench, because then I won’t feel whole.  There will always be a hollow in me and I don’t like that… I need to feel complete.  I need to learn how to be happy and at peace.

I’ve not done that yet.  I’ve never ever experienced joy in the true sense of the word.  I don’t mean to sound tragic, but it’s true.  I don’t really care about financial success or fame; I care about feeling whole and happy.  That’s what I care for, that’s what I need!  To me that is what success is – success is living the life that makes you feel happy and whole, not what gives you the most material possessions and making strangers in awe of you.

That’s not my goal.

Remember, I am doing this alone, I have little to no support.

I just want happiness, love, and peace and to feel whole and most of all, I want to play! 

That’s all.

Happy reading!

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Filed under About Me

Shove me in a box…

“You can’t have and do everything, you’ve got to narrow yourself down”; Have you ever been told that by anyone in the past?

I have endlessly, particularly by Paul – he has constantly lived in fear since we moved in together that I am overdoing everything, stretching myself too thin and he has tried to endorse a cut version of me. Purely because he fears I will burn myself out!

I never realised until now, just how little by little, I have lost myself.  Around seven years ago I became severely depressed and suicidal; I couldn’t find joy in anything anymore.  I didn’t realise until recently, when I have been soul searching just why this might be the case!

Why am I no longer happy?

Why even when I was being badly abused in a toxic parent/child relationship, I was still happier then, in myself, than I am now that I am free?  Because I realised, although I was isolated and abused, I was allowed to have my hobbies and a lot of them!  I was able to skip from this to that and know that the house was always spotlessly organised and nothing needed to be cleared away and cleaned before I could use it.

Although my life with my parents was terrible, I had the environment perfect for creative growth.

My heart and soul sings when I am able to read books at the drop of a hat, write stories and songs and poems and practise any musical instrument.  I could do art and I always had a dog next to me, I was never without a dog when I lived with my parents.

I could sing anywhere from the hours of 9am to 9pm without being hushed, as long as I isolated myself in my room or in the garden to do so.

I could get the exercise I need without clearing the floor and vacuuming first and have the right music to motivate me to finish the work out all the way through!

I could listen to any music and watch any movie I so desired; although I was isolated, threatened, blackmailed and all the rest, I was free to hone my skills and entertain myself however possible, as long as I just don’t go out and as long as it didn’t interfere with chores or whatever my mother wanted from me, which were minimal anyway because my mother had OCD and everything was perfect all of the time around the house.

But here, I don’t have the same freedom.  In my own house, I don’t have that.

There is always a complaint at how loudly I sing, it’s ok to sing, but do you really have to sing opera or songs that reach a high note in jazz?

It’s ok for you to have these musical instruments, but you can’t have your keyboard constantly set up outside of the box, there is no room for it – let me bring it downstairs for you every time you want to use it and wait until we clear the dining table and you can use it there!

It’s ok for you to do your watercolour painting, but we need to clear your art table up as we’ve had lunch on it today, it will only take fifteen minutes and then you need to fetch it all down from boxes from the spare bedroom before you get going on it… is it any wonder half an hour later especially when I’ve had a bad day with my sickness that I decided after all of that nonsense I don’t want to paint anymore?

Especially when there is never any room to store the art to dry and the work ends up with piles of toys on it and lost for several weeks… there is no respect with my efforts. Nobody cares, but me. I have very little personal space and I am made to feel guilty when I fight for it.

I have a 4ft by 4ft corner in the living room with my desktop computer and a chair; I had to fight for that space and to maintain it as tidy as it is like it’s some kind of ongoing battle… and it is!

They can take anything away from me, but not this space!

And they do.

Sometimes I need to pee, but I get hemmed in this corner by fortresses of lego or robots, then they leave the room abandoning me to try and get out of it, because really, they don’t care.  Or they barricade me in this corner with an ironing board and baskets of laundry and I have to wait a few minutes whilst they rescue me out of it, just so I can go to the toilet.

It’s nice he does the laundry, I really appreciate that – but I need space to do the work and I have been struggling for two years now in getting Paul to help me set up the spare room as an office, because I am too weak to move the huge cabinets up there myself to make room for my desk.

The mess is depressing, the lack of freedom to just up and go anywhere in the house is… if you can understand it’s… it’s just… I don’t know.  It makes me want to give up, stay in bed and rot away.

The only place I can absolutely guarantee a clean and tidy place with the freedom to move un-obstructively is between my side of the bed, my side of the bedroom, the upstairs landing and the bathroom; but lately, the bathroom is getting obstructed as Henry is becoming a teenager and floods the floor, so I can no longer trundle from bed to toilet in fleece socks without seeping into a lake and sitting on a toilet with a wet bottom because for some reason or another, Henry doesn’t just wash himself, but the whole room!

Is it any wonder that I sit back and wish to leave?  That I can’t cope anymore with this kind of life?  Because nobody I live with uphold the same quality control of how the house should be as I do?

Because I was stupid to think I could change a hoarder.

“We’re not obsessed with everything like you are” is the response I get when I complain.  “We don’t have time, we’re tired, we can’t help it” is always the excuse I get and I am drained by the whining and then I don’t want to create – I just want to sink back in bed and hope that I do actually die of whatever is making me sick! It’s probably the black mould, I never had asthma before I moved in here!

I was offered a free writers retreat holiday the other week, I refused to go because I was genuinely afraid that if I went, I’d enjoy the freedom too much and won’t want to come home again.

I am a musician as much as I am a writer, I am a composer and lyricist, I am an artist and photographer – but I can only be a writer whilst I live here, there isn’t any room for the other stuff and I miss my piano and keyboard so much, the glockenspiel, recorder and kalimba are available easily, but the house has eaten my harmonica and portable electronic drum!

Oh I still have it, it’s upstairs in a box, but I can’t get to it, it’s barricaded behind loads of boxes of things we never use and I can’t carry it downstairs to use it, without thirty minutes of tidying up first and then there is the issue that I am disturbing someone.  Or that “they” want to play my keyboard too as though it’s some kind of novelty game;

I am thrilled in particular that Henry has an interest in playing the keyboard, though he never practises, but why is it always when I only just bring it down for me after months of not seeing it? 

Maybe I am just a selfish asshole, but I can’t help feel I am being boxed as much as the junk in the spare room is!

Sometimes I feel I am in the way, that if they could, they would, shove me in a box and put me out of the way.

How I miss my music.

I need to find a way out of all of this, before I grow old and bitter and become a mega bitch; it’s slowly happening, I used to be happy for everyone, never a glum thought crossed my mind – but lately, I am getting envious and I am starting to turn green and have ugly thoughts about things.

I feel like I am losing my soul!

Happy reading everyone!

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Filed under About Me

Books saved me from crime

I haven’t been raised to be who I am, I was raised to be something quite different and I fought against that system heartily because it felt wrong, corrupt and somewhat evil.

I read ferociously, reading was my weapons against self-destruction.

I am glad I took the quiet path and found solace within the pages of books – because the other path would have been a huge detriment to myself, my life, any offspring I had and perhaps a loss of art from my perspective – because the alternative path would have been a life of sordid means and running away from problems, skipping town to town to avoid being tracked by my past abusers and potentially I would have followed one of my older siblings into a life of crime.

Instead the path I took was a weird one, for the type of family I was raised in.

My mother often told me she was disappointed that I appeared to be some kind of flake, some kind of weird little creature who sat in dark corners reading books and seemed alien to what she said was a normal person’s idea of fun!

So what did my mother think was a normal person’s idea of fun?  Going out Friday and Saturday nights drinking themselves into a stupor with your friends, gorging on take aways and BBQs wherever possible and bothering the doctor about your strange back pain, without telling your doctor that you recently fell off a balcony with an 8ft drop because you were too drunk to realise what you were doing!  Oh but that’s not all, pick on the quietest person in your group and make them do things they’d never do without your cajoling and bullying – oh such fun!

Then on Sundays spend all day cleaning the house whilst worshipping God in the form of watching biblical movies in dead silence. 

If it wasn’t for books I would have successfully ran away by the age of fourteen, I knew at that age the only people who’d help me on the street were the bad kind and I was near enough prepared for it because I needed a way out.  I knew from past experiences of other women in my life that once you are in that kind of life, it is hard to get out of it, but I very nearly took that chance.  Thought that maybe I’d earn my way out, but you never do.  The big kick which knocked sense into me was that I had a cousin who had the same notion – only she had the guts to actually do it and came back home in tears, black and blue and with a new found drug addiction only a year older than me, she didn’t know, like I did back then, that it’s not only sex they get you into for money, but drugs too and in order to sell it, you have to take it yourself like a good sales person.

Fifteen years down the line, it killed my cousin. She was murdered when she was clean of drugs for nearly 2yrs as an effort to win her kids back from welfare and stumbled across her old dealer who was desperate for her to buy again! It could have been me, if I chose the same path.

Drugs was a big issue for me, because I saw the damage it did to several of our relatives growing up, drink and drugs are bad, very bad, it changes people heads, make them do stupid things and then they fall apart in tears because they genuinely didn’t meant to ram your head into the wall fifteen times, they were just stressed that’s all!  So I never wanted to experiment or be lead into it.  Several near misses though of people trying to sneak it into me, but I was paranoid around strangers and never accepted food or drink from anyone just in case!

No, after what happened to my cousin I decided to stay as the quiet one of the family, lock myself away in my room because if I didn’t, I’d usually end up the night’s entertainment!

They treated me like a circus freak, something to poke fun out of, to test, experiment with, to scare, to have a laugh with her, see what she’ll do next, like some kind of trained monkey or puppet.

Despite all of this, they still had the audacity to call themselves god fearing Christians!

If it weren’t for books, I wouldn’t have wanted to be a writer.  Because I thought movies were just movies, people playing pretend and they made something good together; it didn’t occur to me until I watched several Stephen King movies with my horror loving grandma that I kept seeing in the credits “written by Stephen King” over and over again in most of the movies I watched.  I knew when I went to markets and charity shops that Stephen King books were everywhere and I decided to collect and read them at the age of 9.

My grandma was very encouraging – another horror fan in the family made her feel less lonely.

I realised at the age of nine most books I liked were movies and that movies very rarely come from other places; I liked movies and I wanted to watch my ideas on the TV or at the cinema.  I wanted the world to visually see what I see in my head or at least adaptions of it.

Books are a love – but mostly I love movies, I am very stimulated by vision and art.  I learn better with visual cues for example – I have mild dyslexia and dyscalculia as well as ADD and Paul thinks ADHD.  If something visually pulls me, I lose concentration on other things because of the interest it holds.  This can be difficult at times because I can zone out on people if I find something visually attractive about the environment around us, fashion, hair, or even a beautiful person – now that one can be awkward!

So, I am really writing in the hope that my books make it to the movies and if they don’t then I have a plan B.  I will give my first book out to publication and if there is no interest from movie producers to make something of it, then I will have to bore myself to tears to learn technology where I can create my own movies online.  How?  I don’t know, but I hope it won’t come to that!

One major type of book that saved me from a life of sex crime etc. was non-fiction psychology.  From the age of 9 I taught myself how to pacify aggressive people without becoming too submissive or self-deprecating, how best to react in violent situations and how to talk to angry people.

Now it works to a certain extent on a vast majority of people and I have been commended in work for excellent customer service and hospitality skills, but there is a small margin where the advice can actually make some people more aggressive with you – my mother is one of those.

If I didn’t emotionally react to her behaviour with me, she’d get absolutely hysterical, come close into my face screaming and then slap me repeatedly about the head, because damn it, she is going to get the reaction she wants because she needs to feel her power over me!  Because she is insecure, that’s all, my fear and tears make her happy, because it verifies to her that she is strong and she is still alpha.

It wasn’t until my mastoid surgery when I was seventeen that she was positively shitting a brick about hitting me, because I have a vulnerable spot at the side of the head would could be lethal if bashed.  So she tried other tactics to hurt me in other ways, usually the legs.

In 2012 it was a book called “Toxic Parents” by Susan Forward that helped me finally tell someone outside of the family and family friend circle about my mother.  They responded in horror, they were a nursery worker for my son Henry.  They got me a nurse and a family support worker to come and speak with me and then the police came to give advice too.  Unfortunately their advice was, get her out of your life or it may affect your ability to care for your son appropriately, meaning that we could take court proceedings to put your son into care until we feel that you are safe!

Because my son did sustain a head injury earlier on that month due to my mother encouraging him to do dangerous things, such as deliberately climbing onto the dining room table to jump off it onto the floor, he was 14 months old and had only been walking seven weeks!

She didn’t want me to have children, you see, it wasn’t part of her plans.  She wanted me to stay home forever and become her nurse when she is old; she told me this over and over as I was growing up.  I accepted it, because it’s what daughters do, but mothers tend to want their daughters to thrive, be independent and happy in their own right too and usually good mothers want their daughters to expand their family, don’t they?

She didn’t.  She didn’t want what she called “more problems” that came in the form of new family members – she didn’t want me to go out alone and make friends, because she liked to micromanage my every waking moment.  It was hard for her to allow me to go into full-time work and she’d often sit in her car all day long outside my work place waiting to see what happens, if I leave early etc.

On some occasions I was ten minutes late in leaving the building because my boss required extra work, my mother would embarrass me by making a visit to the building demanding to know where her daughter is and how they can’t push me around into doing more than my times worth!

I often lost jobs because of her.

Because I knew how she liked to micromanage me and because I wanted to be a good daughter and keep my head down and please her the best I could, until I could convince her to allow me freedom and a family of my own – I decided to talk with her about me becoming self-employed with homework of some description, there was always an issue for her and that never worked.  Because she would become obnoxious when I was on the telephone (up until 2015 I had perfect hearing in the left ear), so keeping those jobs was a task too.

She revelled in telling people about how lazy I was, how she is stuck with a quiet reclusive freak of nature that is eating or starving herself to death periodically and has no enthusiasm for life whatsoever.  Not true, I had no enthusiasm for the life she wanted for me.

I had a lot of ambition until I gave up wanting.

When I was twenty seven I left her to move in with Paul, it was done sneakily but I had to do it that way.  By thirty I had to stop all contact with her, because she is a respected matriarch in the family that meant I had to say goodbye to everyone except for a small handful of relatives on my dad’s side of the family.

She would never know or appreciate that all I ever wanted in my life was for me to be considered a daughter that was good enough to stick around and help as much as I did.  Good enough to trust out alone, good enough to get chores done, good enough to deserve a good husband and family of her own and good enough and trustworthy enough to be humane enough to want to care for her mother if she ever needed it.  I didn’t need to be moulded and abused to do that, but she didn’t understand and I don’t think she really cares.

Because I messaged her in 2014, two years after not speaking to her and I said to her – I am willing to forgive and forget everything about the past, if she is willing to tell the truth to others about how my life was like and repair my reputation in the family and secondly I’d come back into her life if she could allow me to take full charge of my own life because after all I am a woman of thirty now with my own child – she said no, she won’t do that.

I said well just give me permission to live life how I want and I will work it out with the others myself.  No, she said, I won’t do that Tina, because I don’t agree you know what is best for you and as far as I am concerned, you don’t need that permission really, what are you playing at exactly?!

So I said to her – are you telling me then that I have got you wrong?  That you’ve always allowed me to make my own decisions and you never intended to interfere?  No she said – I never said that and you know what Tina, this is the end of the conversation.  I leave the ball in your court, come or go as you please, but I won’t change – I stand by the fact that you haven’t a clue about life and that you are a stupid, stupid girl and as far as I am concerned I wish you never have any more children, you made a stupid mistake when you decided to keep that one! (This was in reference to my Henry who was planned and is very much loved)!

I also wanted to point out, that the message came about because I wanted to tell my mother that I was hospitalised with an ectopic pregnancy and how my plans for a large family could be over and I was feeling suicidal over it – because all I wanted in life was to be a mother of a large brood.

Books have helped me heal from that too… books are magic aren’t they?

Thanks for reading! 

P.S my idea of fun is… picnics or eating out at buffets or country pubs with a large group of family or friends, rowing on a lake, visiting a zoo, playing with dogs, doing messy arts and crafts with kids and playing pretend with my creative and kooky friends, oh and swimming, I love swimming and gardening or being in a beautiful garden that isn’t overlooked! That’s the light side of me… there is a dark side too… What does that part of me like?

Once again friends or family around me, snuggling down with a horror movie – watching thunderstorms, creeping people out, telling a good story, having sex and generally being my weird self!

And guess what!  No drink and drugs for any of that is there? Well, erm, maybe the pub lunch eh?

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The wonders of technology

I have been learning a lot about what to do with the technological gadgets I have; I have always had various social media accounts, but never really got to grips with how to make the most of them.

I have only just realised that the “notifications” I get in twitter are not all messages the public give to me, but are actually random posts from people or subjects I follow.  It was very confusing for me for a lot of the time and my wires got crossed a lot!

I have since learned how to tell if something is actually for me or a random public post and it has destressed me a lot!

One thing I am still not clear on in regards to twitter is how to reply to thank someone for retweeting something without having to go to their actual profile page to do so?

I didn’t fully understand the value of twitter as a writer until recently either.  I was always told that as a writer you need a social media presence, but I didn’t understand why.

I realised it’s not all about self-promotion at all, like I was told by other writing friends – It’s all about your personality and who you are.  It’s fascinating to think that I have gained over sixty followers this past week, purely on a heated topic I took part in earlier this week on twitter about gender identity.

I really didn’t think that people really cared about a writer until they’ve read copious amounts of their work and then decided to become a fan.  I didn’t realise in this day and age, your personality accounts for a lot.  People are really into this “influencer” ideology and I have been behind the times for years it seems.

It’s opened up a whole new world to me, I didn’t know this was a thing until I actually bothered to research all this stuff as I am preparing myself for a career in art and writing and I am taking it all very seriously!

I was distraught the other day when I learned that Goodreads was taking away their ability to recommend books to friends option – but then, when mooching around the site I found that there are three little buttons at the top of every book I’ve read where you can share your book on Twitter, Facebook and Pinterest; why get upset then?  I can merely click one of those buttons and do it another way anyway!

Although I had a Pinterest account, I had never really wanted to use it as a proper social media until Goodreads took away the recommendations options.  I have made new boards on Pinterest about the kinds of books I read, so my followers can go there and have a look and perhaps get inspired to read something that inspired me.

I have since learned that Pinterest can be monetised without ruining your follower’s relationships and it will earn you a passive income – this is something I will delve into more deeply later on in the month, to see if it’s something I may or may not do.

I have had an Instagram account for a few years now and have never posted a picture on it – but again I learned it can be monetised without affecting follower relationships too, again earning you a passive income each month.  I got an Instagram account because I was friends with a lot of artists who wanted to share their artwork with me and a couple of relatives who like to show their holiday pics up there too.

I have wanted to start doing short poems, art and wildlife photography to put up onto Instagram, maybe with a few inspirational quotes as well?  But not sure when I will take the plunge on that yet! https://www.instagram.com/tardycreative/

I will share my profile from Instagram but you will see its empty more or less.

I am @CreativeTardy on twitter these days.

My Pinterest is https://www.pinterest.co.uk/naturescreativecomrade/ it is called NaturesCreativeComrade because that is my account on google and will be the name of my up and coming YouTube channel.

I bought the webcam and microphone a year ago and still haven’t learned how to set it up; I really ought to get around to it! 

Why did I choose that as my YouTube name?  Because my YouTube channel is going to be about my journey as a writer and an artist, but also a gardener and wildlife photographer; I will also include pet care in the videos.  Writing is not my primary focus on this channel – it will be about my relationship with nature and how it inspires me to become creative.

I focus a lot of my gardening on permaculture, polyculture, food forest, no dig ideologies and completely 100% organic, I heard the bad neighbour is moving by the end of summer, so hopefully I can get back out there – saving the world starts at a garden a time, after all!

Thanks for reading!

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Do you show yourself up?

I have started my writer’s journal yesterday (6th June 2022) and I was finding it insightful rethinking how my projects developed over the years and how I have grown as a writer.

Because I get so wrapped up in my projects I often forget to post on my blog, so I often do blog posts around two weeks in advance, just to help maintain activity here – because if I don’t, the blog goes quiet for three months at a time and I don’t like to do that!

Anyway, going back to my first paragraph of this post, I discovered that certain projects were bland when I originally started them – but over time, they fleshed out really well and morphed into something completely different, even character names changed to suit the new situations that ensued.

For example, I had a young child protagonist who was originally seven years old, she then became twelve and now the character is going to be fifteen.  Simply because of how the story developed into something much different and my goals are very different today than they were back then!

I also only had around five characters that were friends of the hero and helped her on her journey; this grew to become nine solid friends and a small number of fly by helpful friends.

I decided the villain dies in the end and that so does the heroine too, but this changed, I leave no spoilers as to my current decision or you’d be looking for it in any book that sounds alike, when it gets published.

But what threw me was the fact that the book developed when I developed – I don’t mean creatively developed, I mean, its subjects developed with what was going on in my life at the time of writing…

The heroine was a runaway –then she was not.

I was a runaway at the same time this story originated in my mind, the characters plot of running away changed, when I no longer felt the need to run away in my real life. 

This is a development I didn’t notice until I revisited the writing process to add to my current projects journal – it is interesting.  I used to pooh-pooh the idea about creative people subconsciously putting their lives into print and that people psychoanalysed everything that wasn’t really there, but, you know… I think there is something about all of that!

If you write a certain theme, it’s because you think or feel or have experienced it in the past or at the present and it is coming out in your writing. 

So be careful at what you are writing out there, I know a lot of real life bitches who tend to write a lot of romantic dramas where there are mega bitches and they just think, their work is set apart from themselves… but… hey… what will literary psychoanalysts say about you in the future, what will they see in you through your work?

It does reveal a lot – I have a writer friend who writes a lot of childish roles in her stories that are not entirely based around children and she struggles a lot with her inner child, she is trying to be mature, but she just can’t hack it and she doesn’t mind I am writing this, I asked her!  But she found it amusing about how accurate this seems to be even with her!

I know another writer who always wanted to be a rock star or a Goth, but was always nervous to do so because of societal stigma, particularly within the Jewish community – so, they write those kinds of characters.  Sorry I didn’t ask them about this, but being that they aren’t named… do they really mind?  I hope not!

You don’t know it until you see it!

But you write yourself in everything!

Since learning this, it has kind of made me paranoid about what people will think about me… but then again… I am happy with who I have become and I am happy I am not who I used to be anymore, so I won’t stress too much!

I just don’t want the analysts to harp on about my mental illness all the time and look back on me with pity!  I don’t like that.

The journal has been a revelation.

What is included in the journal is my journey and thought processes about what is happening in the book – any movies or books that influenced those pivotal scenes, are my characters actually a mock-up of say, my favourite movie characters?  Yes, actually, I can see that a lot in my work!  But it is unique enough to not come across as a total rip off!  That’s very important!

I have even included lyrics which also helped me think of scenes, with references to the singer and the song name. 

Why am I doing this?

Because these journals are on a work by work basis, when I get a piece of work published I have this goal that if I sell ten thousand books, I will send out to publish these snippets from my writers journal to show my readers how I got it done and what influenced me, because I don’t know about you – but I am a very nosy reader!  When I read an author’s book, I want to know more about them as a person, what they think and what they like so I can see who influenced them!  Because I love evolution!

Being a creative, whether you are a writer, song writer, musician, artist etc; you are going through an evolution which will influence and inspire other creatives in the future.  This is exciting and I love this sort of thing!  I am obsessed with evolution, particularly the evolution of the mind, culture and society!

At this point in time, there are hundreds of works by other people who have influenced all seventy nine of my nearly finished works, yes, seventy nine!  There have been many things which have influenced me several times over in most of my works and those are;

Nox Arcana music, art and lyrics

Neil Gaiman’s works, particularly his prose and comics

Colleen Doran’s Raphaelite style artworks

Various wrestling shows with their gimmicks and storylines

Aurora Aksnes lyrics and music videos

Anne Rice vampires

Vampire movies in general

Modern gothic art, particularly by Anne Stokes

Tim Burton’s movies and artworks

Ancient myth and legends worldwide

Roald Dahl’s works and movie adaptions

Lady Gaga’s music videos and lyrics

Stephen King’s works and movie adaptions

Brian Froud and the Froud families’ artworks and puppet movies

The Mad Max series and franchise

Mafia movies and history

Max Brooks works and movie adaptions

Children’s classic bedtime fairy-tales

Marilyn Manson music videos

Queen music and music videos and adaptions

The Rocky horror picture show and its adaptions

Suzanne Collins works and adaptions

The Animals of Farthing wood

Watership down and its adaptions

Wind in the willows and its adaptions

Monty Python TV shows and movies

Terry Pratchett’s works and adaptions

Johnny Depp’s characters

Robert Downy Jr’s characters

Gabriel Byrne’s characters

Al Pacino’s characters

Bette Midler characters

Kathleen Turner characters

Pam Ferris characters

James Earl Jones characters

Bon Jovi lyrics

To name but a few, I know it’s really a lot, but its few in the real number of influences I have had over the years!

So you see – you are what you are and you can’t hide it!

Happy reading everybody!

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