Art and Me

Art is a magical, revealing, and highly personal form of expression. What a person makes of a piece of art tells so much about them, and their experiences, and their mind. A piece of art, whichever form it might take, can never mean the same thing to different people, and no two people can ever make the exact same piece of art. Sure, people with similar experiences, similar feelings, and similar thoughts will appreciate art in a more similar way, but it can never be the same. Every human has a slightly different outlook on the world, pieced together, second by second, by all the experiences they have had over their life. This, in my opinion, is what makes something art – the individuality behind its creation and interpretation – the individual beauty that people find in things, maybe that no one else could ever find.

But art is different for everyone, and we all connect differently to different forms of art, to different ways of expressing ourselves. We find it easier to engage with some, and easier to create some, and easier to identify with others.

Here is me, and art. Art and me, and the ways that I choose to create, and feel inspired by.

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A Letter To My Grandfather

The following is a (heavily edited version of a) letter that I wrote on the night on my grandfather’s death, a couple of weeks ago.

Dear Grandpa,

Thank you. Thank you for everything. Thank you for the role you had in making me who I am today. I’m not entirely sure that you know what that role is, or how much you influenced me over the years, but you did.


First of all, though, thank you for the little things.

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February’s Finally Finished

Well, February was an interesting one, wasn’t it?

I don’t know about you, but February has been a mixture of both the incredibly delightful and unbelievably crushing for me. I’ve fought with friends, and found wonderful new opportunities. I’ve lost a family member, and befriended wonderful new people. I’ve discovered secrets I’d rather have not discovered, and I’ve spent time with those I love more than anything. I’ve slipped into some very bad habits, and I’ve learned so much that I’m very grateful for. I’ve found myself in unbelievably awkward situations, and I’ve felt, for the first time in a while, really wanted.

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Letters To My Future Selves

Dear 18-year-old me,

You’re only two years away, but if the last two years have taught me anything, it’s that a lot can change in 24 months.

I wonder; are you where I’m hoping to be, when I become you?

Did my plan work? What about it failed?

I’d like to know how many people you’ve met that have really made you think. That have really made you wonder, and change your mind about something.

How many people have you met that have changed your life?

Probably none. Two years isn’t a very long time to have your entire life changed.

Ooh, have you fallen in love yet? I’d like to think so, but then again, it isn’t that important.

Are the people who are your best friends at 16 still even in your life?

If not – why not?

Was it your fault?

If so – apologise.

Have you learned to drive yet?

I’d be disappointed if you hadn’t.

Sternly, me.

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These Are Restless Times

A few days ago, I was just going about my daily business, reading posts, listening to music, trying to stop my cat from leaving me, etcetera etcetera. It was a mediocre day, and I was feeling thoroughly mediocre myself. How uninteresting and boring my life seems.
I came across posts about politics, of course. Mainly Trump and his stupid freaking wall. Posts about people’s personal lives – their birthdays and boyfriends and best friends and demons. Posts about projects and things people are doing, challenges they’re undertaking, mistakes they’re making. Posts about life, how to do it and do it well, how to ensure you get good grades and good hair and good everything.
It was all very unremarkable, as I said. Very mediocre.
Not that the posts weren’t great, I’m sure, but nothing really caught my eye, you know? As I said, I was feeling very mediocre.

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Why Valentine’s Day Just Isn’t That Great

Ah, Valentine’s day. What a wonderful celebration of love, and relationships, and happiness, and contentedness, and all things wonderful.

The day when the single population of the earth feel either completely worthless, or are so very grateful for their singleness, and freedom, and all those things that come with being single, that they celebrate so much that they just look desperate.

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