Unfortunately Bitchface is not reference to some deep inner lost part of my psyche. I repeat: is not. She is a person in my fucking family. This is not an existential deep-and-meaningful exploration. This is pure raging.
a tiny story that can in no way capture the profound impact my gorgeous grandfather had on me.
This comes on the back of surgery. And fire is appropriate. I need fire in my belly. My solar plexus. My guts. Despite it being cut and prodded. And I need the stregth to burn the skeletons I've been holding onto. I haven't got the strength to keep carrying this heaviness, nor the desire to. … Continue reading Art Journalling 3. Bonefire
It's been a process. A deep but mostly gentle process (over the last few days). Compared to this last 6 months which has been brutal as fuck. Side note. And the most exciting thing, was that I got to a place of complete trust and faith, and inner knowing! My marker (proof) was when I saw a dad feeding his little person on Friday.
[3 years] Secondly, I remember Hannah, my first doll... I remember the care and attachment to her. I remember loving her, and the responsibility of looking after her.
I don't know what it was that I was thinking about when I realised that I needed to talk to you about it. Before I re-remembered all-over-again, that you are gone. Almost two and a half years ago, gone.
So by pure fluke, as all good things seem to be, I've joined an art journaling group for people wanting and wishing for a baby. It is facilitated by Ishara from Fertility Dreaming. And what a freaking intense journey it is. So we got a link to the page with the first video instructions. I … Continue reading Art Journalling and Art Healing. Pre-Start. And hating it.