spring limbo

It's been a while; my bad. I've neglected posting a lot of things on here. I'll start with some Spring-y photos:

itty bitty pink lady

in the heather (my mom took this)

A self portrait

old photographs from Clare

I've been in a state of limbo lately. Caught between two momenta, two selves, two stages. I feel a sort of surrounding uncertainty, my heart evasive of what my mind knows. There are brief moments of self-actualization and alignment, but mostly I have been feeling distanced from my usual drive and sense of self.

I will post more soon/catch up on what I haven't posted.



I'm contemplating the definitions of reality. If something exists solely within my head, does it not exist? Is the characterization of reality materialistic? What about abstract concepts, such as love or trust, entities that exist within the brain? I feel as though questioning the boundaries of reality brings a perspective of unlimited possibility. Reality is a personal, individual experience, which can be defined differently by various people.

There is this quote from Albert Einstein, “Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.” 

And the reality beyond physical existence, the one which manifests within imaginations; should it be invalidated to 'unreality'? Or, does its presence within our imaginations make it a facet of reality? I have this perhaps blindly hopeful and self indulgent belief that the materialistic manifestation is not the sole demonstration of reality. I am perhaps validating the worlds within my mind by feeling that just because they do not exist materialistically, the fact that they are fabricated within my imagination means they exist, in whatever shape or form.



emotional suspension

emotional suspension / physical manifestation.

Thinking about the divide and relationship between emotions and their physical manifestations. We smile and laugh when we’re sparked with joy, and cry when we’re wallowing in sorrow. I'm finding it fascinating to discover the complexities of these various manifestations. Additionally, perhaps on the flip-side, the sensations of our physicality can have an effect on emotions. Physical pain can take a toll; comfort food or a favourite sweater can improve a mood. Our bodies are subject to an innate connection with our inner emotions.

Sketchbook pages: anticipation / My heart aches for the promise of future; I fear I am setting myself up for disappointment.


Vintage coat & scarf.

Do yourself a favour and check out issue three of Unrooted, a rad as heck online magazine I'm honoured to be on the staff of (psst, page 44 and 48 hold some of my stuff).



I finally got a new art desk (second hand), as the one I was using before didn't have much work or storage space. I can't stop fawning over it/decorating and arranging it.

Painted this yesterday & today...

...to keep collage bits in.


fool's paradise

Sketchbook pages.



Some things from the last couple of days.

American Apparel pants, sweater & shirt; Topshop shoes; my mom's old coat; secondhand bag; hat from Decade.

Taken by Sara.

Sara looking cute.
From when I met up with main gal Sara the other day, and we got coffee and did a little shopping and bought matching toques. I also bought Mala by Devendra Banhart on vinyl.

A shelf in my room.

Shadowy bits.

Scraps on my wall.

Acrylic on canvas.
I started this in around November, and I finally finished it today. It's been sitting on my desk for several months, and I was at a loss of what to do with it, so it feels good to have it finished.

My grandmother's old paintbrushes.
It's been snowing all day - a magnificent rarity. It's put me in a rather romantic mood. I've been drawing and painting, and listening to my new record. It's been nice & nurturing to exist in a personal haven of productivity and creativity. Sunday's like this make me feel like I'll be able to handle the coming week.
I'm feeling very enthusiastic about the future. I'm working on exciting projects and looking forward to upcoming opportunities. It's a very pleasant thing to feel.


moments of fullness

I'm struck by moments where it seems my surroundings have been carved out into some sort of personal globule. It's like a moment of self-awareness. I was walking away from school the other day, when no one was around; I wasn't having a particularly good day. I could hear the click of my shoes and the wind, and feel the sunshine on my face. I was abruptly aware of the absolute solitude of existence, and yet comforted by my own company. I will never exist anywhere besides my own head; in that way I am truly, eternally alone. I kind of like that. I don't know what to say about it other than it was a Moment, the kind I want to engrave in my memory for being equally perfect and melancholic. The kind of Moment that sparks in me the vividness of living, and lends clearance to thought.

It's Moments like these I try desperately to capture in some visual form. And yet, at the same time, I don't want to spoil them (I've retold this one because I had the desire to).

These Moments are moments of fullness. Experiencing a spectrum of things all at once; a multifaceted burgeoning of experiencing. Feeling, just feeling. What a weird word. These are the moments when my heart feels like it's going to burst. When I love living the most. Fullness is my favourite thing to feel.

I've been listening to a lot of Beach House lately; they're a band that really makes me feel full. Each song of theirs seems to have so much in it; I often feel the impulsive desire to live within their songs. Both the lyrical and instrumental aspects of their music induce indistinguishable feelings. Beach House seems to offer both escapism, and a nostalgic, vaguely relatable aspect.

This has been a rambling, incoherent post.