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You cannot recreate the viscerality of life from within a chamber.
It’s 2018… I think. I’m sat on the hospital bed waiting for the mental health team following blood results. I was finally allowed to eat again. My pal who had trekked across the borough came armed with a giant bag of pickled onion space raiders. We begin the spreadsheet “reasons to stay alive”. ‘Try new…
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New fibres.
Trauma fills your bones. It pangs when you drive past places you used to know. The sinews cling to your skin and endlessly stretch their fibrous tendrils to create waypoints back to the source. Shitty little strings you can fray but never fully remove. 2023 ended in hidden pain. 2024 began the task of untangling…
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What are we doing in the space?
I want to preface this post with an anecdote: 9 months ago. I’m sat in an upstairs room of a grade-II listed property. It had been converted into an NHS clinic for secondary care psychological therapy. In front of me, my therapist. Behind him to my right, a large window that bled condensation onto the…
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Conscious disassociation / Objects of desire.
Sometimes, I need to sit at the top of the low I can see from my bedroom window. Being up high clears my busy head. I’m in a complete state of information overload and I have to take a strategic and intentional approach to securing and reformulating my ideas. I’ve catalogued my reading, I’ve been…
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Short circuiting.
I’m writing this tucked in the corner of a little real ale brewery-come-bar. Having rearranged some of the furniture for optimal comfort with minimal discretion, the staff look perplexed that I’ve chosen to home myself here. One damp walk through the autumnal haze, a pint of ruby and a portion of chips later, I feel…
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Acts of intimacy.
Socks, no shoes on. Onomatopoeia. Deep breaths. Cups of tea. Chopping vegetables. Concentration. Unexpected conversation. A shared photo. Hearing their story. The real story. Unafraid to cry. Seeing them cry. A tentatively comforting touch. Your first and last hug. An invitation. Reminders. The remnants of breadcrumbs.
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Mythical creatures: disbelieving the celebration of difference.
Someone who I respect and admire recently said to me “we haven’t worked together, but I’ve heard about you.” My immediate reaction was “oh god, why?!” I didn’t stop to think that this might be actually be a positive thing. I spend so much energy feeling frustrated by the negative perceptions that tar or contradict…
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A brief reflection on subjectivity, authenticity and positionality.
How is it that the subject is the kind of being who can be exploited, who is, by virtue of its own formation, vulnerable to subjugation? Bound to seek recognition of its own existence in categories, terms, and names that are not of its own making, the subject seeks the sign of its own existence…
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Seven safe places to hide.
This post has been inspired by a band I’m hooked on at the minute. Austin TX based Urban Heat have been lulling my lugholes on my commute every day. About a month ago, frontman, Jonathan Horstmann, spoke of the way songs transform and reveal additional meaning (watch the Instagram reel here). He was specifically referring…
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As I dance through bluebells.
It’s 3pm on Wednesday. I’m sat in a long, drawn out meeting. My reflection stares back as I try to concentrate on the agenda items. The frown lines in my face prominent and the bags under my eyes weighing heavy onto my cheek bones. Sadness expelled in the weight of heavy sighs. It was only…