Category: Videos
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So short they tease me cruelly with their far too brief full dark.
When I can’t sleep,
then the cheerfulness of eager birdsong announcing dawn’s imminent arrival
feels not just unpleasant, but an act of torture.
I rub at my dry eyes, which are beginning to sting from the lack of proper rest,
already longing for the rich and full nights of winter.
The cold of those nights doesn’t bother me, unlike the muggy dark summer brings.
Another torture. More useless tossing and turning.
So many write in throes of ecstasy about the beauty of such nights,
but for me they are a cruel cheat.
Even when I do close my eyes long enough for a dream to find me,
too often they turn into nightmares.
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I cannot tell you how much I have missed this. The work, even if it is simple street snaps, soothes my soul. I know that sounds corny, but it is true.
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I originally wrote this on Tumblr of all places, but felt it deserved to shared on here too. It’s not a subject I see discussed at all, which is a damn shame. This film made great points that were well ahead of its time: the expectations placed on males by the patriarchy being just as damaging to men as they are to women, fatphobia, the damage done by Thatcherism (that continue to this day) to the working class, homosexuality being rightly seen as “well, good for them” by their friends. I never appreciated these messages at the time, being a teenager and everything, but now, more than ever, I love this film. -
I’m tired, I can’t be bothered to hide my art behind filters anymore. Here it is, with apologises to @fkatwigs who inspired it. I did you no justice, and I truly wanted to make something great inspired by you.
The truth is that I am a “fair” artist at best. That was the assessment I was given by my York college art tutor when he looked at my laughable portfolio for the first time. I grew as an artist, but not enough, and that clearly frustrated my tutors (I had four for different aspects of creativity. Photography, sadly, was not one of them. I doubt I would’ve appreciated it at the time if it had been).
Why? I don’t know. Mostly because it was the only decent course I could qualify for that was highly unlikely to contain any of the horrible sociopaths who had made secondary school an utter living nightmare. And I was okay at it. Back then, you had to make as much GCSEs with Cs or above to make certain courses. I wanted to go for the holy grail: A Levels. Specifically English Language, English Literature. The other two would be Politics and Psychology.
After failing to achieve the desired grades (I was one C off), I took a year off trying to figure out what I wanted to do. I read through the entire Tolkien trilogy. Re-watched the whole series’ of Only Fools and Horses on TV Gold. I did basically everything I could to avoid thinking about The Future.
Then came the inevitable day.
I was given two options: get a job or work towards getting a career. Refuse either, and I had to leave altogether.p
I choose art. I came to like it.
But I love it more than I’ll ever have the talent to prove it. To prove my love.
And that’s that.
The artwork being discussed in this post.
Bloody Roses 