Abortion and Rape.

I have come across two items online I feel the need to discuss tonight. This is not normally the kind of thing I’ll blog about but both are very close to my heart and I feel the need to voice an opinion. Please, after reading voice your too and comment. The internet is a dangerous thing.

http://liveactionnews.org/mom-posts-amazing-photos-of-her-7-and-8-week-old-miscarried-babies-on-facebook/

Above you see a picture of an 8 week, 5 day old featus. Mindy’s mother miscarried the child and took pictures for facebook of her unborn offspring. To be honest, as a parent myself I couldn’t do this. But as a recently grieving Mother I realise she is trying to show how proud she is of her child and how heartbroken she is to be robbed of her little girl’s life. From my point of view it’s extremely personal and I wouldn’t want that on my facebook, yet massively understandable for someone who is experiancing extreme loss needs the world to appreciate her grief.

What isn’t understandable is the comments below on this page. Some people have called the images of this featus ‘disgusting.’ Why? It is what could have been a healthy life but never had the chance. Like I said it isn’t something I would have done as a Mother myself but it was posted out of love and respect and complete and utter heartbreak. For anyone to come forward and judge a mourning mother is pretty disgusting in itself.

Also. Comments like this.

Wow– so do some of you even hear yourselves!? A mother values her unborn and cherishes the memories of their few moments together through photographs, and you call it “disgusting”. Another mother allows her unborn’s brains to be sucked from it’s head and it’s bones to be crushed and pulled from her body piece by piece, then dissected and sold for medical research, and that’s totally acceptable!?
Why are you being so judgmental of a woman’s choice to love her child when you defend another woman’s choice to butcher hers?

I shouldn’t say this, as everyone is entitled to their opinion. But anyone who genuinely believes abortion should be abolished should take a good luck at the world. I am one hundred percent pro-choice. One in five women will become a victim of rape of attempted rape in their lifetime. How many children does that make? Born into families without a loving father, with a Mother whom hasn’t had a choice in whether she wants a child, and for that woman (or girl), to have to go through the entire pregnancy and complete life change as a reminder of a traumatic event. It’s pure cruelty. Woman or men that recover from rape are unbelievable, incredible and simply fucking powerful. But to have to try and go through that process knowing your whole lifestyle choice has been taken away from you without choice? To a person that has terrified you? Ruined your life at that point? These women matter and are entitled to move on with their lives.

I’m not just writing about assault cased pregnancies. Obviously if a woman has ten terminations it is completely unacceptable. Life is sacred and should be dealt with extreme care. But if a woman falls pregnant whilst on a low paid job with two children already and her partner has just left.. as an example, for her own mental and physical health and the health of her children, it’s an excruciating choice. It should never be taken lightly. Essentially by having a termination you are agreeing to end the life of a person that could have been, that doesn’t mean that person won’t be here in another form. We are souls and it depends on your beliefs. Sex and pregnancy shouldn’t be taken lightly. You can’t just ‘get rid’ once your pregnant. It’s a heartbreaking decision for anyone but a woman always always should be given a choice. She should realise the consequences of her actions and understand exactly what she is going ahead with.

So stupid one sided comments like that are ultimately closed minded. A woman doesn’t ever decide to ‘butcher’ her child, she decides to grieve and live a decent life depending completely on the circumstances. PRO-CHOICE.

Next..

I couldn’t actually watch the full video. The song made me cry. Her voice is full of passion and the video is heart wrenching. Lady Gaga’s videos have always been hard hitting but this is reality. No bullshit sequin tits or hot pants with spikes or whatever the hell she would wear. The story within the music video demonstrates exactly what sexual assault can to do a person and is brutally honest about it too.

I was a victim of sexual assault when I was sixteen and it really does ruin your life. I fell so so far but blossomed in a way I never thought was possible. Until it happens to you, you don’t know, how it feels. I couldn’t get out of bed or shower, let alone eat or see people. Especially men. When I managed to build up the courage to leave the house I would freak waiting on people at work, even men with families my hands would shake and I couldn’t serve them. Or on a train platform I would start panicking when a male commuter stood too close to me. Even my own friends, I was suddenly wary of the people I once trusted. In one night I had been physically and mentally ruined. It destroys everything you believe about the world. We think we are so invincible until we are controlled.

This music video is extremely hard hitting but should be carefully displayed. I hate the idea of the world growing cold to everything through the internet and not able to be shocked as we’ve ‘seen it all’. It definitely shouldn’t be freely available to children online, maybe come with an age consent of some sort. But all in all it’s brutal, honest and true. I was hugely impacted for months and months and floated through life convinced everybody wanted to hurt me. Which of course wasn’t true. I came out a stronger, more beautiful person and learnt to see the absolute best in people. My attacker was never caught, so I had to create my own closure.

You genuinely can’t realise how heart breaking rape is for an individual and his or her family. Years later I am a Mother. Not a survivor, a thriver.  I see what Gaga is trying to do with this short film and it could be extremely effective in the right hands.

To end on a more positive note.. this is how I wish to parent Noah.

My boy loves Frozen and if he wanted an Elsa doll, thats what he would get.

Its getting late now. So goodnight my wonderful friends. I apologise for the seriousness of this post, I just felt the need to voice an opinion. Both issues are dearly close to me and I needed to elaborate.

Mother, Flourisher, Believer.

E x

To Change.

‘Make sure your life gets better from here. See the down bits as a challenge to make you stronger, and don’t dwell on them so long that you don’t notice the up’s.’

– Anna Scott.

I’m not sure why I write. Am I trying to prove myself.. to anybody? Even just the paper and pad in front of me, or is it a form of release? Next stop Edinburgh. My stomach has been aflutter since this morning. I’m always memorised by it up here. I smile thinking of those early train journeys, spontaneous and full of passion. If I heard Lost in Audio had a gig I would drop everything, skip my last lecture, leg it for the bus and run as fast as my legs would carry me to catch the next train to Edinburgh. I’d arrive with minutes to spare and had the task of asking anybody I could see for directions to the venue, (that’s rather difficult in a city where no one is actually from the city,) and run. No one knew where I was or that I’d left. I love that feeling, travelling alone gives you a sense of freedom. I’d arrive, surprising the band with a glittery smile and adrenaline pulsing through me.

Stepping off the train, I welcomed the idea of not knowing where I’d end up. I walked around, feeling the city in my lungs. On the train I grew anxious, itchy, but now here it had become a second home. I sit beside Scots monument on Princes street staring up at the castle. The streets whisper memories of the past three years and I’m happy. It’s getting chilly now and I can’t wait to see my baby. I’ve needed him so badly and now I’m here. To celebrate his birthday with his father and Scottish side of the family.

This insane escapism through making last minute, unhealthy decisions has had it’s time now. I’ve been away from my boy for a short time due to illness and surgery, but next week is looking glorious now through the simplest of actions. There’s a seagull chilling at my feet. I hold out the bread from the vile, overprices big mac I’d purchased and the bird nervously edges closer to take it.

I’m picked up and taken back to the house. I throw myself at Noah, scooping his heavy body up in my arms and kiss his mouth and cheeks over and over. Over the few days he is spoilt rotten by relatives and has a wonderful few days with family and friends. He has discovered football and it has become a small obsession. Dribbling the ball around the garden, he has no interest in anything but playing in the sun. I have to lure him inside with caterpillar cake. We’re having a party next week back home in Yorkshire for his birthday. All his tot mates are coming and the theme is ‘diggers.’

Crazy really. Had you told me all this three years ago I’d have laughed in your face. Edinburgh this time has been a journey to start a new change. You can sense the moment when someone falls out of love with you. You can still dearly love and care for a person without being in love. For me it was a conversation regarding the idea of moving back to Edinburgh. I have felt something coming for a long time and after a traumatic month this has been a turning point. I’m starting Stop-ober and a dry month tomorrow, getting my head in order as well as career and finances. I love my little boy and can’t wait to tuck him into bed tomorrow night.

 

So from here on up. I shan’t be using my blog as a place to bitch and moan any further. Watch out for Steampunk updates and Isabella & Charlie news. Change is a beautiful thing yet everyone can suffer from fear of the unknown.

E x

A Short Journey.

Whilst in hospital my Grandma wrote me a life plan of how to sort my head out once my body had covered. It consists of success and positivity and reminds me at the root of everything I need to focus on Noah in order to focus on myself.

A few days ago I decided I was going to disappear on my own for a few days. With my physical health not being in the best state to have Noah over night, I thought I’d take advantage of my temporary childlessness. I decided that morning, packed a few dresses and my lipstick and jumped on the train to anywhere. I found myself in Bardon Mill,  Northumberland. I stayed with a friend I haven’t seen for four and a half years. Bardon Mill is only a tiny village but the open air and surrounding northern country feels like home to me. Northumberland, Hexham, Allendale, Stublic Farm. It breaks my heart that I’m here, within a few mile distance, and I haven’t time to visit my old home. Probably now captured by the destructive grasp of nature slowly crippling the buildings structure. I bet that it’s beautiful. The surrender of it’s history and accepting it’s fate as an abandoned property, now just a ghost of childhood importance. I want to walk through it, relive sleeping in the huge cold bedrooms tucked up tight with a hot water bottle for comfort, or running wild and the tipis we would create from fallen tree branches in badger woods. Endless evenings of cold scratched hands, bruised knees, runny noses but sweaty chests. Running. It would snow so heavy in the winter. I remember once having a huge bonfire in front of the stables one year. I was only very young and my Grandma had bought my cousin and I creme eggs. Aaron immediately wolfed his but I buried mine in the snow to shield it from the blaze, with a plan to find it later that night. To my childish devastation I had forgotten where in the thick white ice I had buried the chocolate.

I remember Christmases playing monopoly in the living room, surrounded by teddies and dolls next to the huge burning stove. It was the warmest room in the house. I remember my Mother playing David Grey and Pink Floyd. I would dance around the house in various glitter covered fairy costumes, princess outfits or wedding dresses. Not much changed. As you came through the main gate and into the farm grounds, my Mothers dying red beetle would sit on the side of the drive looking sadder as days went on. A beautiful car she couldn’t bare to dispose of, far beyond repair. It sat there for years as a part of the farm, full of moss, beasties and rusty springs escaping from the broken fabric seats. I have to have one someday, my Mum, Grandma and Great Grandma all had beetles. The stables had turned into workshops and I was forbidden from going alone to the tower buildings on the far end of the farm. A death trap for a curious little fairy. I remember after the building, wood and land were sold on, my Mum and Grandma went back to retrieve their antique fire places with a van full of tools. A full on gangster midnight mission.

The air was clean in Bardon Mill, real fresh country air. Open space, the sounds of a trickling river from anywhere on the only road through the village. There’s a slight breeze alongside the enlightening September sun, teasing us with the memory of Summer. The kind of light that makes intricate details more apparent and colours and textures more noticeable. A sharp, soothing light that forces you to notice how incredible the world is around you. Nature is boasting with this light. ‘Look, Look how stunning I can be. Just stop and notice..’ I always try my best to.

As soon as I jumped on that train, I felt I’d escaped the last horrific two weeks. I thrive from spontaneous decisions and decided to run. Not permanently obviously. I knew I’d only be gone a short while and I’d never leave Noah for too long, but this little trip was needed. I wanted to imagine the lives of less familiar faces. I’m now sat in a cocktail bar writing this, in the centre of Newcastle. I love travelling alone. It opens your eyes to millions of people living separate lives to you. We are so wrapped up in our own universe that we forget how many people there are to meet, help, talk to that you never knew existed. As self absorbed creatures our worlds are as big as we make them. Travel the world or enjoy your local pub in a tiny town. Everyone is different and nobody is wrong. I find it stimulating to be reminded of other peoples ongoings, struggles and their courage to survive. One in four people struggle mentally at some point in their life, that’s already a dozen in this bar. It’s the realisation that in the end, the only person that can save you is yourself.

I’ve recently read a book, ‘The Girl on the Train’. An interesting read about an alcoholic, jobless, ex-wife that becomes involved in a crime by imagining the stories of strangers on her daily commute to London. I wouldn’t say I make up stories, more like wander. Although it makes a great game with a travel companion. I’m interested in anyone who wants to tell me their story, I’m privileged. Yesterday I met a man who invited me up camping with a bunch of his friends to Loch Lomond, to watch the sun go down. I politely refused, trying to remind myself of my safety and cage the relentless creature inside me that’s dying for attention. Screaming ‘YES’ to any given irrational opportunity. There’s Noah to think of. Today it was a middle aged bearded man who is rewriting a Scottish myth he’s turning into an interpreted dramatics weekend with an active hiding, hostel staying audience. Widening the mind and hoping you can widen other peoples, leave an impression. We are only human. Previously commuting, I have given a suited man family and business advice, (to the extent of my knowledge.) Along the lines of, ‘what’s more reasonable’ and ‘will you be happy though?’ and I’ve comforted a crying girl. We are only human. On the commutes to surprise Cal in Edinburgh I would often find myself talking of affairs, family life and business with suited men. (With a naughty pixie inside of me, screaming out for their suits to be ‘accidentally’ covered in glitter..) Sometimes I couldn’t help myself..

Colleen’s presence picking me up from Berwick station is extraordinary. Her aura always puts my at ease, she radiates endless opportunities, which exhilarates me.  We go for a thai meal in Dunns and back to her home where I sketch and she reads me short stories she has written, soon to be published on Kindle and Amazon. I feel peaceful and want a plan in place for surviving the next few weeks before I get home.

Colleen goes to bed and I make myself some hot milk and brown sugar. I get into bed and sit until midnight finishing the Da Vinci code. The sweet milk has warmed and relaxed my entire body and I feel myself slowly lulling off..

Today it is time to go home. I awake from my deep slumber with a stiff neck. I must have needed that. The longest I’ve slept unbroken for weeks. Shower, make-up, dressed, brew. Stepping out of Colleen’s apartment I gaze down to the river surrounded my foliage. Straight ahead I see huge swaying trees balancing on the side of the cliff edge. A light breeze, morning tea and first smoke of the day in hand, I somehow feel empowered. Strong in my body and mind but with a creeping anxiousness crawling up my back to my neck. It feels like a tingle up my spine, and it’s sat there, whispering in my ear, telling me today I need to return home and face the ongoings of the past little while. I will eventually have to accept and settle into a routine that so badly terrifies me. Yet I know it will help and sometimes the best thing is not always the easiest. So I take my strong body and soul, stub out my cigarette, pour away the cold tea and breath in the valley ahead of me. This is going to take a while as the whole world has changed for me in less than a month, so I’m going to have to become familiar with this new one.

I wish I’d have visited the sea. It’s powerful, alive and the smell of cold salty air energises my senses. I should have gone to Beadnall and Seahouses, or made friends in another city. But right now I’m on the train home, and things can only look up from here.

E x

This House.

It’s midday and the boy has just awoken from his deep, long slumber. We curl up in Mummy’s bed and listen to video games by Lana del rey and I sing to him. He is starkers after deciding its much comfier to sleep naked and his tiny body is cold. I wrap him up and kiss his arms and chest. He lies for a few minutes, clutching me tight and playing with my dreads.. telling me stories. We have a quick shower and head downstairs to make brunch. Noah has two yoghurt’s for starters and I crack on with scrambled eggs.

I’m caught off guard. I’ve been glued to my First Aid Kit album for little while but actually really listening to the lyrics my chest drops and feels hot.

You know your single when you look in your fridge and there’s butter, a tiny piece of dried up chedder and half a bottle of wine.

So you come on home, walk through the door. She’s in the kitchen searching through the drawers. So you stop and watch her and ask what she’s looking for. She says she’s not sure.
And it gets late and you turn off the lights. Her body so close to you in the night. But you dare not touch her and you don’t want to fight, so you just say, “Goodnight.”
This old routine will drive you mad
It’s just a mumble never spoken out loud
And sometimes you don’t even know why you loved her. Well you look at her now, and you see why.

My house is a mess, has been for weeks and I keep forgetting to eat, especially in the evenings. I love to cook, but I’d never cook for one. This house is so beautiful and yet feels vacant now. I remember when we first moved in. Noah couldn’t even crawl. We had a travel cot upstairs, we lit the fire and drank champagne in our empty house. Without even a sofa or television and I was the happiest person in the world, as we were starting a wonderful life in the quirky house with my two beautiful men.

It feels different now. My friends describe it as a haven, somewhere to talk and feel safe. When I was first alone, I hated being enclosed within its walls, but now I change my mind often. I change my mind about everything often, unpredictable and unsettled which stops me driving forward.

Noah runs into the kitchen, toast in hand, to tell me another story. I smile and try my hardest not to shed a single tear. I can feel the moist brewing behind my eyelids but somehow I manage to hold it. He is smiling with his whole soul. A constant stunning reminder of a recent past life. He looks unbearably like his father and sometimes it’s just too difficult to stand. But he is not. He is his own person who will not be dragged into this mess.

I need to wash and clean up. Take my baby out. Maybe put some makeup on. I have my boy and my health so I should never ever complain about anything else. There is always someone worse off than you.

I have not made it easy on either side though. I need him near me all the time, I feel myself crumbling without that. I never understand my next move. But for his own mental health I’ve been trying to stay away. It’s never a little of each. It’s full blown either way. I’m unhealthy for myself and the people around me. I’m never scared of telling people when I’m not okay, we are all only human.

Just thankyou. For the letters in the post, for the times I will one day smile upon, for the gifts, the kisses, the trips up to Scotland, for my entire pregnancy and especially for giving me an incredible Son and making me a stronger person. Thankyou so much. I feel the universe has been testing me for years and it’s time to stop, I’ve had enough of feeling challenged.

‘Mummy, Mummy Mummy!’

I have to go, the baby has summoned me.

So breathe, get ready and clean up, because what else?

E

Noah and Mummy.

 

I feel a tiny hand gently stroking my back behind me. I sit in the mirror in just my knickers staring at my reflection, watching the way my body twists and turns, looking at my operation scars and wondering how to start putting my face on. Noah is galloping around the room behind me and has stopped to nuzzle into my skin. He is still and warm, and so careful to be delicate with me. I turn to touch his face. ‘Do you love me?’ ‘Yes Mummy.’ ‘And do you know you are the most perfect thing in this huge crazy universe?’ ‘Yes Mummy.’ ‘So you always remember how perfect you are, nothing else in the world matters as long as you stay beautiful and pure.’ ‘Yepp.’

He will understand, but right now I thrive in his youth. His beautiful young hands, glowing lion mane and endless cheekiness in his curiosity, sometimes landing him in trouble.

I turn back to look at my body. I study my ink, the imperfections and marks on my skin and stare into my own eyes, wondering how well I know the stranger in front of me. Pretty damn well really, but recently I’ve terrified myself with how unpredictable I can be. I need to cut it out and screw my head on. Noah takes a running jump on my back and kisses the skin on my neck. He buries himself into my dreadlocks and I stare at him in the mirror. The glow from his skin, the oceans in his eyes, that perfect face peeking from my shoulder. I can’t help but smirk and kiss him face over and over till he tells me off.

This was originally an event strictly to do with events and how I’m developing professionally, but as the year has developed. Events became my life, so it was difficult to separate them professionally. I can’t wait to get back into them. Do more and become better and better. I haven’t posted much to do with anything as I’ve been working on bigger things for longer period of time, but once again, bear with me.

I hear him bellow ‘Let it go! Let it go!’ from behind the wine red room divider in my bedroom. I join in and he comes to me, throwing himself across my lap. He lies in my arms, clearly getting frustrated with the lack of attention while it’s taking me too long to put my face on.

I went to the exchange on Wednesday, what a wonderful night. Loomer, Sour Mandy and River Jumpers. I was so happy to see so many people I haven’t been in contact with for a long while. Watching from my bubble I adore these people and I thank them. Just for turning up so I can be surrounded. Obviously not for me, just a good job I decided to go. A passionate evening I never would have dreamed of. In my head anyway. I have wonderful friends, I really do. I take one last look at my body in the mirror. My wonderful, far from perfect, motherly body and smile. Why did I ever care for perfection? Who gives a fuck.

Lana del Rey is singing to me through the laptop, I stand and put a pretty dress on. Nude lace. The small one runs over again with a little cry, he holds out his hand and I kiss it and smile. ‘All better.’ After you become a parent, you have an incredible magic ability to kiss little accidents better. Like anyone else, I have lots of secrets, but I appreciate my life, I truly do. I’m getting a lot of cuddles this morning too. That makes the world turn.

SO YEAH. Another pointless post. Just have a wonderful day everyone and take a minute to think about the incredible things in your life.

E & N.

X

Lion Cub.

She was a stranger in town. A gypsy heart with no one to call. I must find somewhere warm, she thought. Where the bright souls are. On and on through the rain, another cafe and all the same. Finally she saw it, she pressed her hand to glass and opened the door. Inside, beneath densely patterned walls, cocooned in the warm glow of chandeliers, she drank fine coffee. And watched the strange and beautiful community. So happy was she, that day turned to night and coffee to wine. Olives, cheese and bread were served, old records turned.. Gypsy music. And soon she was dancing on old floor boards, lost in the sad and lovely eyes of a northern man.

I read this in a cafe menu. What a beautiful poem.

The worst thing about living alone, is climbing into a cold empty bed at night, I have bad, vivid dreams and awake screaming or feeling lost. Everyday life is to have structure, that’s how we work as humans. Routine keeps us happy and working. I seem to have thrown structure out.

I’ve just had surgery that’s left me feeling rather fragile. I can’t differentiate if I’m so tired and feeling unwell because I’m feeling vacant. Or if I’m exhausted from the surgery and working so hard. Either way things aren’t great. I started to loose faith in everyone around me and in myself. It’s so hard to explain to people that haven’t experienced it. When a task as small as doing the dishes can be utterly unbearable and you want to hide, under the covers forever. You float around the world with an unexplainable numbness. Then there are other times, when you absolutely need company. To just watch people from the outside.

Yesterday I sat on a bench in Hebden Bridge park and watched my little boy run and play. Full of passion and life and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. It’s not a butterflies and fairies kind of love. It’s a deep, pure love. An utterly painful love that totally consumes you. He keeps me afloat. I watched my lion cub run and laugh and run like I was sat on the outside of his beautiful bubble. An innocent bubble, where no one could do any wrong in the world and everyone is good. Evaluating, staring. His being glows and he is the only thing I can see, the only thing that ever matters. In the entire world. It’s a beautiful day and I feel a slight breeze on my neck. Not enough to cause goosebumps, just a gentle shiver down my spine. I float over the the metal barrier and watch the river. My movements are slow today and I’m taking in my world. The beautiful world around me,  feeling at peace with nature. The ripples in the water flow fast but seem to stay static at the same time and the trees surrounding the river bank are enormous. Swooping with the wind, like they are protecting the water. I watch it, breathe it, let it all take me in too. Then I turn with lungs full of fresh air and see my baby. Running as fast as lighting into my arms with a smile as wide as anything. My glowing lion cub with his long golden hair and it all makes sense.

I have run myself down, being so busy. I run and run and run and it has hit me hard. My mind and body has temperately let me down and I will go again, faster than ever. But I need a while to breathe and sleep and watch. I’m sick to death of loosing my temper at slight things and shutting people out. I will peacefully float through until things are okay again. I have been through too much to have another bad year, so I’m keeping faith. This house feels like a ghost of memories now, every dint in the wall or scratch on the floor. It needs changing, fast.

So please, bear with me. My viewings are down a considerable amount, but I haven’t kept up my posts and certainly the quality. I have had certain people that haven’t left me, and I don’t think ever will now and I thank you for your patience. I need to get used to being happy alone.

Warrior, Mother, Drifter.

E

Sunflowers..

Its a beautiful day. I step outside for a cigarette and notice my muddy Kendal wellies are still laid out on the grass. The glitter on the floor outside my house has been washed away by the rain and I have some large MDF sunflowers to paint this evening. I will be relaxed tonight, eat pizza and chill. Today I have been to the hospital, I have an operation tomorrow which is massively inconvenient with such an important weekend arising, but I’m pretty strong. It’ll be reet.

SO. I am feeling productive this evening. Productive and creative. Blackboards to paint, flowers to make, bubble machines to test and last but not least an entire house to clean. It can’t be all painting and glitter. I’m trying to enjoy my own company alone. To be peaceful. The sun is shining and an exciting wee while approaching so every reason to feel wonderful.

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The operation was successful. I woke up in agony and was pumped with morphine. I then tried chatting up the beautiful nurse whom I have several mutual friends with.. I bet they hear all sorts when patients are on morphine. So yeah. Painful but we did it! I’m currently at home, recovering, pretty high on painkillers with my beautiful cat Mittens and best friend Carolpie. I tried going to bed but started hallucinating my skin was being stroked..  Not long now till Old Hall Rocks! We are readyyyyy!

Latest creations..

PEACE & LOVE.

A pained yet positive,

E X

Kendal Calling.

Whatever the rules,
I will break them without knowing what they are.
Whatever the expectations,
I will defy them with nothing but innocence in my heart.
When you think a definition applies,
I will burn your fucking dictionary.
When you place a cage around me,
I will shatter it like shards of lies.
Just when you think I’m bad,
my purity will astound you.
Just when you think I’m good,
you’ll discover the dirt on my dress.
Just when you think you know me,
I die and am reborn, mercurial.
I won’t do it to prove myself to you.
I’ll do it because I am that.
I am.
Irreducibly wild.

-Sara Sophia Eisenman

My last few weeks have been strange and difficult. I figure that moving through change is always a tough thing but we find strength we never thought we had, especially for our children. I have met some pretty special people in the last three weeks alone which I already adore. When going through a change or something difficult, people react in different ways. I need to be surrounded by goodness, by stories and distractions. So that’s exactly what I have done. I had the most wonderful Friday night. My friends birthday party, disappeared for an hour to catch the fascinating Stig of the Dub, back to the party, then into town, then party back at mine. Needless to say I don’t remember going to sleep. The next day we had a wonderful full English brunch with my baby bean. (Who decided it was a good idea to go 30mph on a wheeled horse down the main street, which is indefinitely pretty steep.) I swear he’ll be a rally car driver one day. We ran around in the park and made dream catchers on the grass. It was a scorching day, which made the cronic hangover a little more bearable.

So this is a little review on what I thought to Kendal Calling this year. I started writing a few days ago but haven’t got hold of the pictures yet so was going to wait. I need to crack on and keep up with blogging. Still not got my camera fixed. Nightmare.

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So I have reached the conclusion I really can’t write. Looking back at letters and blog posts I cringe. Massively. I’ve just got back from Kendal Calling and my body is aching. My weekend consisted of meeting the most wonderful people, drinking far too much and being covered head to toe in glitter and mud. What an extraordinary festival, much smaller than Glastonbury yet with a personality of its own. It’s more intense and their is a good chance you will bump into the same people twice, (which is debatable whether that’s a good thing.) I have developed new fascinations and picked up inspiration from different aspects of the festival to use in my own work. Some of which are how to make huge dream catchers to hang from buildings and the incredible things you can create from MDF board. I have rediscovered my love for incense and fruity cider and felt respect and shared stories with so many integrating strangers.

A festival in the evening is always packed with drugs, you could pretty much get hold of anything you wanted and most of the people I met had done. I was offered plenty of times which I don’t have a problem with, or people taking around me. But as a rule of thumb I just don’t take drugs. On Friday I walked back to camp for a disco nap. On the way I saw a camp surrounded by security men and police taking people away in cuffs. When I asked some lad he just said, ‘drug raid.’ Fair enough, time for a nap. I was awoken with news that last night whilst we were all out an eighteen year old lad had died from taking green, adidas MDMA pills and a further six were in hospital in critical conditions. Now I polished through 4 boxes/sixteen bottles of wine this weekend -Needless to say I feel like my organs are rotting- but I won’t touch drugs. I have a little boy that depends on me and one wrong pill could lead to a lifetime of heartbreak for him without a mother. Priorities change as a parent I guess. For the better. So rest Christian Pay and respect to his Mother.

http://www.itv.com/news/border/2015-08-03/mothers-tribute-to-kendal-calling-death-teen/

Aside obviously the heartbreaking news of these poor people, the festival was pretty wonderful. I have developed a small obsession with the Levellers. We watched “A Weapon Called The Word” in the cinema tent on Friday. A documentary on the Levellers, their history and what their music stands for. Jeremy Cunningham, (bass guitarist) creates all the album art himself. It was so interesting to have a real insight into his life, his art and opinions on the bands history through the film. He explained how Micheal Eavis in 1992 had stopped all travellers from entering Glastonbury Festival the same year they played the pyramid stage. Jeremy dedicated a song for ‘all the people that couldn’t get in for some fucking stupid reason.’ He had a traveller girlfriend at the time that was rejected access. After the show Eavis came back stage to speak to them after he had called him a ‘cunt’ whilst doing the set. According to the documentary they actually ran away and hid.

I have a beautiful 70’s record player/radio that needs fixing and I need to build up a record collection. All I have is Fleetwood Mac and Bob Marley. I bet they would sound awesome on vinyl.

SOO. I fell asleep in a trolly and woke up in staff camping and jumped over a fence on stage with a brass band with a wonderful boy I’d just met. After a dance and a little cat and mouse game on stage we were eventually dragged away by security. I played till the sun came up and danced like a lunatic. I love festivals. Currently my body is suffering from that after festival feeling, with muscles aching you never knew you had, a stiff neck and sore insides. Too many wines and fags, well done Kendal. You have beaten me.

A highlight must have been Snoop Dogg. Certainly not my kind of music but epic all the same. He smoked a bifta on stage and surrounded by two toned as hell women wearing hot pants, rapped about drugs, alcohol, women and sex. Cliche, standard, but no one cared. If your as much of a legend as Snoop, you can do and sing about whatever the hell you want. After Snoop was Kaiser Chiefs, who absolutely smashed it. Just before their encore this same clip was played on stage, genuis.

In terms of up and coming bands, the brass band my new friend Maxwell and I highjacked the stage for were brilliant. [Below] I’ve never been phased by brass music, but these guys live had everyone going. Fabulous. Oh take me back! I need at least a week to properly recover now. That festival mud that glues your feet to the ground has ruined my legs. I’ll so be back next year.

Obviously the Vaccines and James were must see’s but another artist I appreciated was Billy Bragg. Pretty sure I’ve seen him before at Glasto but what an ordinary, genuinely nice guy. He sings about major political issues in our society and the way he believes we should be handling them. I really enjoyed what I saw but had to leave half way through for a cat nap. I’d been light headed all day from the previous night and was struggling. Billy played this particular song (with a pretty awful music video,) in celebration of Ireland legalising same-sex marriage.

So yes. I will publish photos as soon as I have them, but all in all. Kendal, you were magical. My overall favourite area of the festival was ‘Lost Eden’.

Introducing our brand new woodland arts area, Lost Eden!
Wander into the forest at Kendal Calling and discover a whole new level of escapism, a world away from the main stages. Inspired by the folklore of the Eden Valley, and the mythical tribe of the stag known as the Carvetti, Lost Eden is a hotbed of inspiration and eccentricity!

-Kendal Calling Online 2015.

This space was utterly magical. Located in a woodland area a short walk away from the main stage, you are transformed into a liminal space with noisy flashing street lamps, an enormous globe covered in light projections sat in between the trees (this was pretty spectacular), and various nature inspired sculpture and art works. I’m so fascinated by creative décor to give an event an aura. I am going to try my damn hardest to work on Kendal’s design team next year. Amazing.

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So yeah. That has been a very tiny update for a manic few weeks. I have to crack on, dream catchers don’t make themselves, nor do Sunflowers.. Old Hall Rocks. Saturday 15th August, 3pm onwards. Old Hall Inn, Haworth.

Its going to be fucking awesome.

MESA, Annie & Joe Drury, Spiralise, Rock Bottom Risers, Drum Machines, Bad Cardigan, Black Horse Fairy,

Designs, Elephants, Inspiration and Acceptance.

Sat drinking champers next to the fire with my girl. We are surrounded by incense, crystals and lights. This is my home. We sit for hours and talk as I concentrate on my henna. I have never felt so relaxed. How wonderful. I do need to get this purple off my hair though..

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So two sleeps till Kendal Calling! Gutted to have missed Glastonbury this year, but this is a new adventure.

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JUST SO!

So I have made a start on my Just So! Festival shrine sculphure head thingys. They are going to be wonderful. These are just examples of six different animals and I have ideas rushing round my head dying to be perused. I just need the ‘go ahead’ then out come the paper mache, chicken wire and various pretty things. These sculptures and ‘Old Hall Rocks’ are my absolute priorities for the next three weeks! I work well under pressure. A perfect mix of stress and excitement. Unbelievably excited for Just So! Fest. Bring it on Wild Rumpus!

I’ve just seen this photo from the Wild Rumpus website. It’s beautiful, simple and sums up how perfect Wild Rumpus’s events are.

Exciting few weeks coming up..

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ELEPHANT FESTIVAL

I wanted to draw attention to a festival I have discovered in Jaipur, Rajasthan, India. A festival of Elephants. The annual event is organised according to the Indian calender on the full moon day of Phalgun Purnima (February/March), this day also coincides with day of Holika Dahan, just a day before Dulendhi, when the Indian festival of colour and joy Holi, is celebrated all over India turning cities and towns into a riot of colour, fun and frolic. Elephants have always been an important part of Indian society so the Elephant Festival is a celebration of them. Hundreds of Elephants are specially groomed and painted for the event.

I just thought this was the loveliest idea! The images are so beautiful, I certainly one day need to visit. I’ll keep practising with the henna and you never know. Might end up painting a beautiful elephant!

 

http://elephantfestivaljaipur.com/

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INSPIRATION

I’m not going to say too much here. Just a few images.. I have had so many wonderful ideas for a spectacular event that will be taking place in Haworth very soon..

  

OldHallRocks! Old Hall Pub, Haworth. 15th August. 3pm onwards.. 

WATCH THIS SPACE

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One last thing ladies and gentlemen.

I saw this image today. It made me really happy. Because right now, this second I have accepted myself. Spending years being told this that and the other. Always trying to improve on myself mentally and physically. All of a sudden I have realised. People don’t change. We are fucking wonderful. So I don’t care any more. I feel at peace with my being. I don’t need to take on millions of things, it’ll make me tired and ill. I don’t need to be stick thin or have perfect hair or have read the fucking dictionary. Because I am wonderful. As are you.

Noah’s done that to me. He loves me unconditionally, so why do I need anything else?

So be busy, happy and stimulated.

More to come, Kendal Calling.. two sleeps..

Woman. 

E X

BABY BEAR.

 

So it has been established that I am shocking at hair dye. This my friends, was supposed to be a lilac/silver colour. But Kendal Calling is this week. So fair enough.

What a fabulous week I have had spending quality time with my bean. We have been to Ilkley, spending time with my best friend and her baby boy, Noah’s best friend Ryan. Such a cute day! That is until Noah had a shouting fit at me and hit some poor random woman in the park.. or when he got stuck at the top of a slide with me clinging on to his back to pull him down. My boy has a dangerous sense of adventure and no concept of the word NO. But other than that.. perfect.

My Bethy is utter perfect. She is one of the most beautiful, hard working, wonderful people I know. That will sit and listen to my endless rantings and share crude jokes with. I love her, she has been there since my memories began and will be till they finish. What an absolutely beautiful woman.

 

 

Earlier last week we went to Cobbles and Clay with the famalam and painted a dinosaur. My favourite cafe that sells the nicest salad dressing in the world. (You know your a ‘grown up’ when you get excited over salad dressing..) I ended up walking home with paint all over my legs and arms. Noah couldn’t grasp the point of just painting his dinosaur and not the entire cafe and Mummy. Obviously.

 

I know these picture of me are utterly hideous and I have put on a tiny bit of weight but I couldn’t care less. That’s my gorgeous shouty man and we have had an amazing week. Yesterday persisted of chilling out at home in our PJ’s, watching cbeebies, making a mess and eating cheese on toast. He is endless happiness with a touch of frustration to me. ahhaah. Thank you for making me so proud.

PEACE & ENDLESS LOVE

Mother, Friend, Daughter.

E X

Just thought I’d add this one. Love this poem.

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat that doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me,
And I shall spend my pension
on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals,
and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired,
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells,
And run my stick along the public railings,
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people’s gardens,
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat,
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go,
Or only bread and pickle for a week,
And hoard pens and pencils and beer mats
and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry,
And pay our rent and not swear in the street,
And set a good example for the children.
We will have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me
are not too shocked and surprised,
When suddenly I am old
and start to wear purple!

Jenny Joseph