Welcome to my little slice of internet. At the moment it’s rugged and sloppy and imperfect – testament to too many things to do, too little time to do them, and a penchant for procrastination. I started this blog around 2 years ago (gosh, that makes me feel bad), initially to share recipes and food. And while that is still a big part of my life, I have failed to keep up with it, have failed to produce content. I guess that I was viewing this platform as a space where I could sell my thoughts to other people – a place where I could appease other people. Anyone who has read Creatives’ blogs or aesthetic magazines has heard the mantra “create things for you, not for your audience”. The audience may follow. Or not.
And now is the time to listen to that. To grow and to hone my skills. I’ve never been much of a writer – no doubt you will have noticed – but what’s to stop me becoming one? My head has been bursting with thoughts and I’m too human to hold on to all of them at once or to store them away and pull them out exactly the way they once were. By trying to find words, or even creating imagery, perhaps I can make baby steps towards emulating the kind of voices that I read on paper or online, professional writer or otherwise, young or old, whose mother tongue might not even be English, which send shivers down my spine, make me giggle uncontrollably, echo experiences and musings.
To practise the things which don’t come easily to us is perhaps the most difficult thing to do. Because in doing so we unconsciously admit that we are imperfect and fail.
My parents bought me a DSLR camera for my 16th birthday when I begged for it. It has taken till a couple of weeks ago (ie. 4 years later) for me to turn the dial a quarter face clockwise, off automatic mode and onto a screen where there are numbers and letters that I don’t understand. I hope you’ll join me as I attempt to learn how to use it, which right now is a lot of random scrolling up through ISO settings and squatting in bushes to keep the camera still, and manual focussing for so long that I forget what I was even looking at. As a perfectionist the blurry, unnatural or downright ugly photos that occur make me feel like crying. But by documenting them here, in my little corner of the internet, I hope to build a story. A story that not only shows the time and place where I was standing when all of these ridiculous buttons were pressed, but might illustrate a (hopefully) improving skill.
Home is the comfortable backdrop from which I share my first foray into the world of photography and I’m embarrassed to say that even at home, in the house that I have been living for 16 years, there were images and places that I had never been before.
MAMA’S GREEN FINGERS
Today was the hottest day of the year in England. I have a desire to go outside, there is a realisation that the temperature is way too high and is unpleasant, I try to find activities to distract myself completely from the perspiration that has become sticky and salty on my body (hello blogging).
To not go on a 7km walk in the surrounding hills on such a day would be a waste, and so the intrepid explorers – moi, sister, tata, dog – did an entire circle. The dog very nearly collapsed due to the heat.
OUR OWN COUNTRYSIDE
While walking we stumbled across some of the most beautiful cottages but I was good and only photographed one: there was nimbleness in both hand and foot so that the owners were sure not to spot me.
A FRONT GATE TO BE PROUD OF
We are probably in the possession of the most unphotogenic dog. While there is no question that she is the most beautiful creature to have ever graced this planet (no, don’t try show me a picture of your dog), the big black box I hold in my hands makes her turn around and waggle her tush at me without fail. No one wants thirty images of a pooch’s behind. Luckily on this occasion she became so bored and exasperated at my sitting on the floor and clicking that she lay in the grass still enough for me to creep up behind her and click the black box a little closer to her face.
This site may undergo a complete transformation. I may delete everything I ever made and try and redo it. But for now I’m content to keep banging on the keyboard, clicking my camera, erasing pencil marks, turning up the stove, running, breathing hard, reading long novels, and just hoping that something appears which I am happy to have made.