Friday, 25 November 2011
Monday, 14 November 2011
Leather Jacket.
I thought I would show you a Jacket that I am selling on Ebay for my Dad. He used to wear it on his motorbike. Young and free.I can't put my finger on exactly why it is that I like it so much. Maybe it is just the look of it in the images. Vintage through digital. Or maybe the emblem of the Native American Indian on the back. It is leather in distress. It's texture is very satisfying.
I like it.
I just like it.
Midnight Musings.
Last night I was thinking how I have just let myself get into this rut that I am not stuck in. It's a shame, that I have been so weak. Maybe selfish. Time to myself, but time constantly wanting company. I am over the initial shock of everything that has happened lately. Now all that is left is to sort myself out. Lounging around, doing nothing for a week helps, but only for so long.
Unproductivity is productive, but only for a short while.
This morning, I made another To-do list. It's a big one. It's a detailed one. It's the one that will help me get back on track. On it there are serious and quite urgent tasks. Get a job, for one. Listed inbetween, to remind myself that i'm allowed to have fun, are insignificant things. Take photos, get films developed. Etc.
Then the long term. Plans for the knitting. I have some tests done. It's exciting to make things. I forget that feeling, but I love it so much. Achievement. Surprising yourself. It's a warming feeling.
Moodboards for designs will be made. Pages and books of designs, tests, successes and failures will be compiled. Research will be done. I'm going back to the structure that I have known all my life. The one of school. This time however, I am teaching myself. My own education. My own questions. My own mistakes. My own success.
The downer to all these plans is ofcourse money. I need some. For everything. To get some, I am selling things on Ebay. Things I got given, bought and taking cuts for selling things that do not belong to me. It's a start.
With any money I make. Job or no Job. I will be using it to inspire myself. Drown myself in balls of wool. A strange image, I agree, but a lovely one to me. Pretty colours, soft texture, intricate patterns.
Again. My excitement.
I know I will be ok now. I feel calmer, more organised. A teeny tiny bit of direction.
The shed will be finished and warm by the end of the week. I will be able to sit in there with a warm drink, under my fairy lights. Be it rain or shine. Even frost and snow. The shed will be my home.
Again.
Unproductivity is productive, but only for a short while.
This morning, I made another To-do list. It's a big one. It's a detailed one. It's the one that will help me get back on track. On it there are serious and quite urgent tasks. Get a job, for one. Listed inbetween, to remind myself that i'm allowed to have fun, are insignificant things. Take photos, get films developed. Etc.
Then the long term. Plans for the knitting. I have some tests done. It's exciting to make things. I forget that feeling, but I love it so much. Achievement. Surprising yourself. It's a warming feeling.
Moodboards for designs will be made. Pages and books of designs, tests, successes and failures will be compiled. Research will be done. I'm going back to the structure that I have known all my life. The one of school. This time however, I am teaching myself. My own education. My own questions. My own mistakes. My own success.
The downer to all these plans is ofcourse money. I need some. For everything. To get some, I am selling things on Ebay. Things I got given, bought and taking cuts for selling things that do not belong to me. It's a start.
With any money I make. Job or no Job. I will be using it to inspire myself. Drown myself in balls of wool. A strange image, I agree, but a lovely one to me. Pretty colours, soft texture, intricate patterns.
Again. My excitement.
I know I will be ok now. I feel calmer, more organised. A teeny tiny bit of direction.
The shed will be finished and warm by the end of the week. I will be able to sit in there with a warm drink, under my fairy lights. Be it rain or shine. Even frost and snow. The shed will be my home.
Again.
Thursday, 3 November 2011
Reading List
I thought it may be a good time to make a reading list. Seeing as I'm not really doing anything at the moment, I may as well read. My book collection at the moment mostly consists of Harry Potter, Tess Gerritsen thrillers, and a few random nice books containing love stories and fairy tales. Not the widest variety. - The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
- To Kill a Mocking Bird - Harper Lee
- Ulysses - James Joyce
- The Heart is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers
- The Sun Also Rises - Ernest Hemingway
- American Psycho - Bret Easton Ellis
- The Door into Summer - Robert Heinlein
- Watership Down - Richard Adams
- Perfume - Patrick Suskind
- The Picture of Dorian Grey - Oscar Wilde
- A Spell of Winter - Helen Dunmore
- The Road Home - Rose Tremain
- The Life of Pi - Yann Martel
Now I need to purchase some.
Tuesday, 1 November 2011
Cat and Mouse.
Once upon a time, quite recently, there was a cat, and there was a mouse.
The cat was nice enough, but seemed a bit spiky when you first would speak to her. She had long hair. With the same colour as the sun, on a long autumn sunset. When the cat warmed to you, she would retract her claws, and put away her teeth. Perhaps too quickly she would set aside her instincts which told her that she was unprotected and vulnerable.
One day the mouse met the cat. The cat was not so eager to let her vulnerability show. She had just been scarred quite badly from a slash to her heart, one which she did not want to open again. She was taken however, by the eyes of the mouse. The darkest, richest brown, which in night time looked like dark comforting hidey-holes, ones like those that cats like to find on a quiet day, curl up, and go to sleep in. The mouse may not have realised, but the cat had noticed him, just as he had noticed her.
A little time passed and they both met again. They ofcourse had not forgotten each other. In the short while they were apart, the mouse had been imagining them together, fine dining and good conversation, discussing good entertainment and literature. While in the cats mind, they had both been playing with balls of string and lounging lazily in the warm evening sun. Maybe this was the beginning of their differences. Apart from the fact that one was natural prey, and the other natural predator.
There was a party. A summer party. The cat invited the mouse along with some other cat and mouse friends. They had a ball, with laughs, with sun, with food, with friends, What was a spark then turned into a flame. They would not leave each other's minds. The mouse perhaps, more aware of what was going on than the cat.
Just a little bit more time came, and then went, during which, they would talk every night. Telling fairy tale stories of things that never happened. Also planning things that never would. One thing did, the flame grew to fire.
The cat once told him of a story. A cat who ate a mouse. She thought that's when she really felt it.
The cat came home. The mouse came to see her, and the rest was history. Recent history. He flattered her. She admired him. He was more than she first thought. Intelligent, genuine, handsome, kind, modest, and most of all, he made her happy. It was almost like she was becoming less of a cat. Her claws had gone, her teeth had shrunk. He called her cute. It was what she needed. Her guard had been up for far too long. Sometimes she would think that, at heart, she was really a mouse.
Love was said and shown. She thought of them together. For months and for years. The cat, with all her guards let down, was falling into a trap. She did not know it. And to be fair. Nor yet did the mouse.
Mother cats always tell their kits to watch out for traps in the road, as they lead to big holes in their hearts. This is why cats always land on their feet. So that when they do get surprised by a hole in the ground, they can still get up, shake themselves off, and walk on.
Just now, as they go on, they will be a little more wary.
The time came when the mouse could not see himself with cat any longer. As mice are quite solitary creatures, he felt crowded, pressured almost. He likes his mouse time. He did not know how to tell the cat how he felt. So instead he did what he did best. He thought.
He thought about what was good. What was bad. Why he should stay. Why he should leave. The cat could sense that something was wrong. Or at least preoccupying the mind of her mouse. She asked him once when they were together, if everything was ok. He said yes.
Like a time before, the mouse came to see the cat. The air around them was different. There was no spark. No flame. Just a sad glowing ember, struggling to stay alight. There were words. Mainly from the mouse. But while he was talking, he realised that the cat to whom he did still adore was no longer a cat. She had turned into a mouse. A new mouse. Frightened and timid. No claws or teeth to defend herself with. The brutal truth of his words, opening the old wound of heartbreak on her shriveled cat's heart.
The timing was perhaps the worst. Already beaten from being a new mouse in a cat's life, she was fragile. She wanted to forget. She didn't know quite who she was. She even thought that the colour of her hair had faded. She cried. But when she cried she wept the tears of a cat. Not a mouse. She at least knew then, that her glorious cat self was still inside her somewhere. The cat that could again protect her.
The cat and mouse, both sad, spoke. It helped, but it didn't. Cats are not supposed to be alone. They are supposed to have a companion. To play with their hair. To stroke their noses when they are sleepy. They need someone to play with. For they cannot always play with a ball of string alone.
Mice are different. Mice don't enjoy playing with string. The ball might squash them and their brilliant minds. Instead they eat the string. Leaving the cat with nothing left to play with.
At least the mouse would be safe from the cat's reemerging claws.
The cat still trapped in a mouses body, with her fading hair and little teeth, misses the mouse. He hurt her. But she expected it. She always gets hurt. Just a careless little kitten. Instead of dwelling on what they had, she is now just thinking of what could be. An odd pair they were in the first place. A cat and a mouse. Who would have thought. Now they know however, that they can always be friends. The cat does not ever want to lose the mouse. He is small and witty. But she will chase him. She will never lose a friend if she can help it.
That is what the cat is now most excited for. That they can still be in each others lives. An odd pair of friends. There for each other when it is needed. She knows it may take some time. But she is prepared to wait.
Impatient in most things. The cat is most patient when chasing a mouse.
In the mean time. The cats claws will grow back. And her teeth will get long and sharp. Ready to defend herself from a heartbreak again.
Though the life as a mouse will be something greatly missed.
The cat was nice enough, but seemed a bit spiky when you first would speak to her. She had long hair. With the same colour as the sun, on a long autumn sunset. When the cat warmed to you, she would retract her claws, and put away her teeth. Perhaps too quickly she would set aside her instincts which told her that she was unprotected and vulnerable.
One day the mouse met the cat. The cat was not so eager to let her vulnerability show. She had just been scarred quite badly from a slash to her heart, one which she did not want to open again. She was taken however, by the eyes of the mouse. The darkest, richest brown, which in night time looked like dark comforting hidey-holes, ones like those that cats like to find on a quiet day, curl up, and go to sleep in. The mouse may not have realised, but the cat had noticed him, just as he had noticed her.
A little time passed and they both met again. They ofcourse had not forgotten each other. In the short while they were apart, the mouse had been imagining them together, fine dining and good conversation, discussing good entertainment and literature. While in the cats mind, they had both been playing with balls of string and lounging lazily in the warm evening sun. Maybe this was the beginning of their differences. Apart from the fact that one was natural prey, and the other natural predator.
There was a party. A summer party. The cat invited the mouse along with some other cat and mouse friends. They had a ball, with laughs, with sun, with food, with friends, What was a spark then turned into a flame. They would not leave each other's minds. The mouse perhaps, more aware of what was going on than the cat.
Just a little bit more time came, and then went, during which, they would talk every night. Telling fairy tale stories of things that never happened. Also planning things that never would. One thing did, the flame grew to fire.
The cat once told him of a story. A cat who ate a mouse. She thought that's when she really felt it.
The cat came home. The mouse came to see her, and the rest was history. Recent history. He flattered her. She admired him. He was more than she first thought. Intelligent, genuine, handsome, kind, modest, and most of all, he made her happy. It was almost like she was becoming less of a cat. Her claws had gone, her teeth had shrunk. He called her cute. It was what she needed. Her guard had been up for far too long. Sometimes she would think that, at heart, she was really a mouse.
Love was said and shown. She thought of them together. For months and for years. The cat, with all her guards let down, was falling into a trap. She did not know it. And to be fair. Nor yet did the mouse.
Mother cats always tell their kits to watch out for traps in the road, as they lead to big holes in their hearts. This is why cats always land on their feet. So that when they do get surprised by a hole in the ground, they can still get up, shake themselves off, and walk on.
Just now, as they go on, they will be a little more wary.
The time came when the mouse could not see himself with cat any longer. As mice are quite solitary creatures, he felt crowded, pressured almost. He likes his mouse time. He did not know how to tell the cat how he felt. So instead he did what he did best. He thought.
He thought about what was good. What was bad. Why he should stay. Why he should leave. The cat could sense that something was wrong. Or at least preoccupying the mind of her mouse. She asked him once when they were together, if everything was ok. He said yes.
Like a time before, the mouse came to see the cat. The air around them was different. There was no spark. No flame. Just a sad glowing ember, struggling to stay alight. There were words. Mainly from the mouse. But while he was talking, he realised that the cat to whom he did still adore was no longer a cat. She had turned into a mouse. A new mouse. Frightened and timid. No claws or teeth to defend herself with. The brutal truth of his words, opening the old wound of heartbreak on her shriveled cat's heart.
The timing was perhaps the worst. Already beaten from being a new mouse in a cat's life, she was fragile. She wanted to forget. She didn't know quite who she was. She even thought that the colour of her hair had faded. She cried. But when she cried she wept the tears of a cat. Not a mouse. She at least knew then, that her glorious cat self was still inside her somewhere. The cat that could again protect her.
The cat and mouse, both sad, spoke. It helped, but it didn't. Cats are not supposed to be alone. They are supposed to have a companion. To play with their hair. To stroke their noses when they are sleepy. They need someone to play with. For they cannot always play with a ball of string alone.
Mice are different. Mice don't enjoy playing with string. The ball might squash them and their brilliant minds. Instead they eat the string. Leaving the cat with nothing left to play with.
At least the mouse would be safe from the cat's reemerging claws.
The cat still trapped in a mouses body, with her fading hair and little teeth, misses the mouse. He hurt her. But she expected it. She always gets hurt. Just a careless little kitten. Instead of dwelling on what they had, she is now just thinking of what could be. An odd pair they were in the first place. A cat and a mouse. Who would have thought. Now they know however, that they can always be friends. The cat does not ever want to lose the mouse. He is small and witty. But she will chase him. She will never lose a friend if she can help it.
That is what the cat is now most excited for. That they can still be in each others lives. An odd pair of friends. There for each other when it is needed. She knows it may take some time. But she is prepared to wait.
Impatient in most things. The cat is most patient when chasing a mouse.
In the mean time. The cats claws will grow back. And her teeth will get long and sharp. Ready to defend herself from a heartbreak again.
Though the life as a mouse will be something greatly missed.
Sunday, 30 October 2011
Tears.
For various reasons I have cried every day for the last 7 days.
I wouldn't go as far as saying that I was depressed. I am just very very sad.
I am newly unemployed.
Back to being stuck at home.
Absolutely no money.
Frustrated.
Alone.
I feel hopeless and stupid. With no way to help myself.
I'm not even taking pictures of anything at the moment. Even with so many festive things happening around me.
I need to get away. Now. I have no way to run away. I have too little money to go far enough away. I'm too impatient to wait to go away. I'll never get out of this rut that I have created in my mind.
I need to figure out what to do. What I want. I don't know what I want. It would be so much easier if I did. Some direction would help. Something to aim for.
But I don't have that either.
Friday, 28 October 2011
Bedroom.
This is my bedroom. As you can see, my fairy lights are dying. More have gone since I took this photo. It's sad that I'm upset about it. But they are pretty. And I've had them for ages.
Anyway. This is my fortress of solitude for the rest of my foreseeable future. Until I get a job. Sort my life out. And get out of here.
Caught up.
Last weekend I spent the evening and day at Chloë's house. It was lovely. Full of food, as usual. Drinks, catchups and gossips. We had some lovely tapas to accompany Chloë's delicious butternut squash soup. We had cava, wine and flaming sambuccas! Drank with a bit more dignity than we may have drank them at uni though.
Sunday, we really may as well have been in the Blue house. Nibbles. Roasties. Red wine gravy. Misfits. Uni basically. 
I'm glad I listened to my spontaneous thoughts last friday and accepted the invitation to go round. I've really missed Chloë. It's nice to know that we are both in the same situation. Stuck at home, frustrated, eager to make our own lives. It will happen, and we both know it will take some time. But at least for now we both have someone who knows how it feels to be trapped. After all the reminiscing we did last weekend about times at uni, I'm sure in a year or so, we will meet up again and reminisce once again about how easy our lives were a year ago.
I'm hoping for the best. For both of us. Wednesday, 21 September 2011
A month previous.
My latest collection of developed pictures capture the last month for me. Well, the month of August. It's strange giving this update, because I have just been getting on with what I'm doing, rather than putting time and effort into this blog and now the blogging feels quite alien. First and foremost, the reason for my absence; I have a job. I work at a men's clothing company called DigDeep. I work at a brand new store in Bath. It's exciting, because it's a relatively new brand, and a brand new store, I get to be more than just a sales assistant. I am getting the chance to become involved with the marketing, merchandising, idea generation. I get regular meetings with the CEO, for feedback and idea sessions. I'm also soon going to be contributing to the social media side of it, which I have pushed for. Like every job it has it's down sides, like the commuting and getting up early when I am not a morning person. However, I am having a lot of fun, with some lovely people.
Sadly, because of my job and my time being used to do something productive, I don't have much time to see my friends as much as I'd like. I see Philip at lunch times, which is quite nice, but never seems to be enough time. Also, I really miss Chloë. The fact that we aren't going back to our little house has sunk in now. With September on it's way out, it's getting harder to find time to meet. To reminisce. To gossip. To drink. To chill. To eat lovely food. To enjoy the outside. To try and keep the times in the blue house alive. 
On a very good note. I passed my degree. All my work in the shed actually paid off, and I returned, once again, to Falmouth to graduate with my friends. It's like relief. Real relief. I've said it before, but this time it really is over and I really am glad. 
I'll still miss the drive to Falmouth though. 
Philip. He's lovely. I miss him when I'm not with him. He treats me well. He encourages me. He always smells nice. He sings me nice songs. I think about him almost constantly. I still don't know how I got so lucky. 
Over most of August. It was just me and my Dad in the house. I liked it. He seemed to understand how much I was frustrated about not being able to find a job. How my freedom from uni had been ripped from me. He was Interested in my work in the shed. We'd have real disscussions. Adult conversations. He knows i'm not a child anymore. He also knows that I'm struggling to become an adult. 
August was also quite a gluttonous month. It was good. Lunch times with Mary in the rain. Toasties getting soggy. Beautiful food and drink makes me happy. I'm glad I've been able to see more of Mary. I missed her quirky ways and her descriptive wordings. As much as I haven't been able to see Chloë, it's still nice to know that we will stay in contact for a long time after uni. She sent me wonderful gifts for my birthday. The rosy tin is now where I keep my rings. She knows. She knows.
My birthday came and went. It came with a lovely quiet evening with Philip, Steve, and Mary. It came with a glorious mini feast. Roast vegetables. Italian salads. Tapas. Bread. Meats. And ofcourse it came with Cake. Sparkling Cake. 
My birthday went with the end of August. 22 and so to life. To try and find/make myself once again. Or I could just do what I do anyway and be a drifter. Just ride whatever life throws at me. Not really being that phased with the things I can't control. Caring too much about the things I can. Getting lost in thoughts and waking up from day dreams, realising that opportunities have passed me by, and that a run is needed to chase them. 
Monday, 19 September 2011
Apologies.
I'm sad to say that my card reader for my camera has broken, and until I get paid, I will not be able to get another one. Sad face.
I'm happy to say that I now have a job, but sad to say, that because of this, I no longer have any real time to update my blogspot. I have lots more filmy pictures to show too. Maybe this week I will put some time into the updating of this blog. Although, hopefully, I will have some nice plans on saturday.
You will see pictures and updates soon though. I will make sure of this.
Apologies from me.
Wednesday, 24 August 2011
Slow day.
After what I said in my last post, about having perfect nails all the time, they are a tad scrappy now. I don't trust this nail polish anymore. It's flakey. I have never seen a red sycamore seed before. If I have, then I cannot remember it. I saw loads of them scattered along the pathement on the way home. It looked quite startling. The vibrant red against the faded gray. Almost like blood drops on the floor.
When I got home I had a nice surprise. In the post came a parcel from Chloë. Inside was my birthday present and I shouldn't really have opened it, but it was unwrapped so I had to really. The lovely brown package cantained a nice card, addressed to 'Ginge', A chocolate bar, a little flowery tin, and inside the tin was a badge with the word 'Winner' stamped onto it. It's my birthday badge, and I have to wear it on saturday night.
Today was slow. This evening is even slower. This weekend is taking longer and longer to get here.
Sunday, 21 August 2011
Passing time.
As all I seem to be doing lately is waiting around for something to happen, I have taken up the habit of doing my nails, almost every day. If it goes wrong then I actually have the time to just do it all over again, until perfect. 
Other activities of Tash these days include:- Playing Sims.
- Reading all my Tess Gerritsen books.
- Drinking coffee.
- Drinking Tea.
- All day naps.
Also, slightly out of boredom, I have taken to trying to make my room look a bit like it did in Falmouth. The same pictures and basically the same lay-out. It has worked, and I like it more here in my white room, instead of dirty cream. I will be painting the kitchen this coming week. It's really quite a nice colour that my mum has chosen. It's not one that i would have expected either. 'Soft Stone'. I will get some pictures up of it when the kitchen is all done. And then finally I will be able to bake sweet things again. I'm not a fan of this living on salad.
I like my room. (Most days)Wednesday, 17 August 2011
Blank.
As from the lack of posts, you should assume, and rightly so, that not much has been happening in the world of Tash. When i say that not much has been happening, what I really mean is, I havn't been taking many photos of nice things. This is a slight lie.. I went to Wales for my cousin's 18th birthday and took lots of photographs of family and cakes. I fear my eyes have had it with cupcakes for the time being. Just to decorate 150 of them is quite enough thankyou. I no longer hold pictures of cupcakes with great esteem.
Other things: I am now employed. Sales assistant for an independent mens clothing company, currently based in London, but with a new store opening in Bath next month. That's where I will be working. A nice little shop in Little SouthGate. I'm going to have to travel to London for training. Not going to lie.. I'm not the biggest fan of London. I am a country girl through and through, and big cities just scare me. Though, saying that, I'm not all too scared of the underground.
I have a man in my life again. He's lovely and I am very lucky. I miss him in the week when he is working. I worry about how he is, then appreciate it when he lets me know how he's feeling and what he's thinking. It's refreshing. I also miss the shed. It sounds silly, but I have been basically confined to my room for the last few weeks, and it was nice to just go out to the shed, with music and do some work. I wish I could go out there most days and paint. Unfortunately, my parents are having the kitchen redone and the shed has become their temporary dumping ground, but never mind. To keep myself occupied, I have been reading. I have been sleeping. I have been cleaning and tidying. I have seen both Steve and Mary this week, which was nice. Evening drinks with Steve on Monday, and Lunchtime wanderings with Mary today, with nice food at the Garden Cafe and shelter from the rain from a small pear tree. I like lunching. It makes me feel like a grown-up.
I have a man in my life again. He's lovely and I am very lucky. I miss him in the week when he is working. I worry about how he is, then appreciate it when he lets me know how he's feeling and what he's thinking. It's refreshing. I also miss the shed. It sounds silly, but I have been basically confined to my room for the last few weeks, and it was nice to just go out to the shed, with music and do some work. I wish I could go out there most days and paint. Unfortunately, my parents are having the kitchen redone and the shed has become their temporary dumping ground, but never mind. To keep myself occupied, I have been reading. I have been sleeping. I have been cleaning and tidying. I have seen both Steve and Mary this week, which was nice. Evening drinks with Steve on Monday, and Lunchtime wanderings with Mary today, with nice food at the Garden Cafe and shelter from the rain from a small pear tree. I like lunching. It makes me feel like a grown-up.
One last thing: As a birthday present to myself, I have booked myself in at Punctured Skin to get the lily that I designed about 4 years ago tattooed. On my left side, the size of my hand, on my ribs. Three hours of slight pain. I may take a book. I won't be able to wear a bra until it starts to heal properly, hang 'em loose like a hippy I guess.
I am excited for things to come. For the moment however, I am severely bored, and with no money to speak of, it makes it quite difficult to make plans with friends or with myself.
I am excited for things to come. For the moment however, I am severely bored, and with no money to speak of, it makes it quite difficult to make plans with friends or with myself.
The sign of boredom, is when the photographs stop.
Or just blame the rain.
Thursday, 4 August 2011
An Old Film.
I was sorting through all my film pictures a few days ago, and i found these prints that I had forgotten. These are just a few. They are going to go on my wall.
Black and White ones were hidden in there too...
I didn't realise that I had begun taking pictures with my OM-2 while Steve and Ollie where still skating. It only feels like a recent hobby, but in actual fact I have been doing it for almost 10 years now.
You'd think I'd know more about photography..
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)