I Don't Need God
And I thought my hedonistic days were over.
I should talk about some art, because I've seen some recently that I really liked, but first can I talk about the fact that I had far too much to drink on Saturday night seeing awesome friends play some awesome music and then spent Sunday gingerly squinting at my reflection and laughing at myself for, again, going drink for drink with a man twice my size (and we were supposed to be taking it easy to enjoy the beach on Sunday). I know people always say this, but my friends are beautiful and I love them so much. I spent most of Sunday eating chicken nuggets and editing photographs while listening to electronica in bed. Don't tell me I don't know how to live.
On the subject of living I keep thinking about writing about how the care system is screwed. The amount of institutional abuse and neglect from GP's and hospitals is disgusting. The way we care for the old and dying is truly heartbreaking and it needs highlighting. But I have rent to pay. Anything I say could end up being the reason I end up unemployed. It's why no-one really knows where I work, or the company I work for.
I'm only secretive because I need to be.
This post is more than likely going to full of photographs. It's my blog. I'll post what I want, thank you very much.
Summer by the seaside is always an over the top affair. There's sitting in the sun with cans of cider and laughing and doing the most ridiculous Pingu impersonations. Pink shoulders and rosy cheeks and smiles so wide. I can't complain when everything is just the right kind of sleazy.
On top of all the drinking and socialising and middle-aged-Mum mosh pits though, has been art. I've finally pulled my finger out and started seeing art in real life again. I've made an effort to see what the local galleries have to offer, and I've been pleasantly surprised. I'm not the biggest fan of painting, but Iain Andrews and Christine Jordan caught my eye. Andrews is exhibiting in Rye at The School (where I once had a studio) and Jordan was exhibiting at Hastings Arts Forum (where I have never exhibited but have imbibed their free wine on more than one occasion). I also managed to score a free print from Tim Noye; thank you very much, Tim.
Also worthy of note is Paula MacArthur, Kate Brinkworth, and as always, the distinguished, middle class, Rebeka Lord who I spent a delightful day in Rye with. There is nothing better than an all day breakfast the day after a night shift, except maybe an all day breakfast and a Bloody Mary.
After the ending of my last relationship I said to myself that I needed to find my space again. To reclaim an identity free from mental illness, and to love healthily. Previously I've wanted to clutch the love on offer with both hands and never let go, I've consumed it too quickly and ultimately exhausted it. I've tried to use the love they have for me to make up the space where I should have loved myself. As nice as it is to know this now, I still feel guilty for everyone that got hurt because of this. I'm sorry that I did not understand myself enough to realise this. I'm sorry. When I have loved, I have loved with everything I have and ultimately I lose myself in trying to fit myself with someone else.
The in-between space was somewhere I never felt comfortable. Being in a moment of flux has always felt alien to me. The space where possibilities are endless has felt too big and scary for me to remain in.
I am bending rules and mirrors to allow my own growth. This is not to say that I'm a special snowflake, I am not. What I feel is nothing sparkly new, there are many amazing women out there that discuss this better than I do. (Here, Here, Here, etc). There are many out there that I am like, I am sure, even if I do not personally know them.
"I found everything I needed, right beneath my skin"