Outside In.


By morning the mould on the bedroom wall was knee height. She studied it from above. Patterns of green spiraled upward. She let out a long breath, and it seemed to inch higher. She inhaled and took in spores. They brewed within her.

She stumbled her way out of the room to the kitchen and like tiny shadows spores followed beside her. In slow bursts, they sprung up as moss on the hallway carpet.

Coming to rest on the nearest counter top, she tapped the kettle on to boil. The steam wet the walls, mould latching onto each droplet, climbing. It seemed strangely beautiful, the battle upstream, climatically orchestrated by the bubbling of the kettle. Would the mould make it to the ceiling before the kettle boiled?

The morning light was dappled across the square interior, seeping through the surrounding trees. A nearby tree swayed in the wind, shaking its leaves from side to side, as if trying to wake itself up. She let her head move with it. Each howl of wind brought the trees brushing against the walls, gently caressing.

With tea in hand, she made her way back to the bedroom, moss shrinking away below her feet. She sipped slowly in the doorway, noticing that weeds had begun to grow up through the open window. Snaking their way around the mirror they appeared to stop and study their reflection, weeds amongst weeds.

Her side of the bed was cold now, the chill heavy in the air. Perhaps this was always how it was meant to be, the creeping progression of green. All around her was folding in.

Right Now.

IMG_8150Day followed night like the flapping of a black wing

The Time Machine by H G Wells

Every now and again, I come across a line in literature that almost completely sums up how my life is going at that moment. The last few weeks of waiting for University to start, and then being a bit of a mess over it actually starting, have flashed by. Every morning I wake up with the potential of the day hanging above me, and every night I go to sleep wondering where the time went.

It’s proving difficult to manage my time as the days pass. I wish I had more control over them. Then again, I wish I had more control over most things.

To combat what seems like achingly long weeks without teaching, I’ve started running every other day. It’s relaxing, ‘me time’ and bloody hard work. It’s funny how one thing can mean several things to me at once.IMG_8169

I’m still awful at it. I’m slow, I go red and I have very little stamina. I may be getting better, but I can’t tell, as I don’t monitor my progress with any kind of technology. I cherish those mornings where I don’t have my phone, it’s a break my brain really needs.

Working from home for my Masters, although in many ways blissful, can be hard on my mental state. I’m going to have to work out the best way to chop up my time so that my world doesn’t get too small.

All my classes are on one day. I end up having a very full day of socialising on the Monday, and then barely seeing anyone for the rest of the week. I think the stress of this caused the anxiety attack I had this Monday, something I really don’t want to happen again.

I’ve never really experienced my anxiety manifesting itself in such an obvious physical way before. I was shaking and I couldn’t feel my hands and feet. All I needed was to calm down, and I did, once I exploded with feeling onto an unsuspecting individual. At least I will know how to handle it better in the future.






Things that are scary, that require personal bravery, can bring me so much happiness, but also really mess with my head. Two days past and I am feeling back to myself now, and I am back to reading what I can for my course. I already really care, and love, this MA. I don’t want to let myself down by being too scared of it.

So, in short, things have changed really quickly in my little world, and it’s taking me a while to adjust to them. I think overall I’m doing well. I am happy, if anxious. I’m taking a lot of photos, and I hope to share a few more with you over the next couple of weeks.

I’m also acutely aware of how lucky I am to be doing what I am, and with the support I have from a few close people. It’s all about perspective, and perhaps I just have to face that my anxiety is a sign I’m doing what I should be: pushing myself forwards.

Until next time! Thanks for reading.