Tag Archives: family

Music and Me

I apologise for not posting my word prompts before noon, I got a little too excited today with a delivery I had of a new musical instrument I am attempting to play – something I can hear on bad days and doesn’t require difficult fingering for my left hand – a recorder.   

I have always been musically inclined, since a small child I would visit my grandmother and play on her piano in her dining room whilst she prepared lunch, we often visited her on Sundays, usually just my dad and I.  I would play all the notes and eventually started to learn some tunes by ear.  I never learned to read music even now I have never learned to read and understand music fully or professionally or with professional help. 

The piano was my first attempt at music, always perfect righthandedly and terrible with my left hand due to my disability.  When I was around seven years old my dad talked mum into buying me a keyboard so I can practise at home whenever I liked and ever since my house has never been without a keyboard in it.  I have never personally owned a piano and I never learned to use a pianos foot pedals or learn the proper terminologies for anything regarding music, except for one word I learned listening to classic FM radio as a teenager = Adagio means to play slowly.

I was then upgraded to a more professional style keyboard aged seventeen as a birthday present, this had digitisation to it (I think that’s what people call it), where I could hook up the keyboard to the internet and download new songs to learn, because this particular keyboard had a function where it taught you how to place your hands and how to keep time.  When I was about nineteen my brother gave me an old copy of Cubase that a friend of his owned and I learned I could compose music by using this, without ever knowing how to actually write the music.  I had saved the music I composed onto an MP3 floppy disk and I still have it to this day and the keyboard too actually!  Unfortunately that Cubase I had is years out of date and I have never been able to finance a replacement, so until I can replace Cubase, my composing days are over!

Pianos and keyboards were never my only dip into the music world; I have in fact learned to play a paper and comb, some notes on a harmonica, belly dancing cymbals, some tunes on my dad’s bugle, an xylophone at a day centre for children when I was around thirteen, some notes on a guitar but again my left hand failed me and I never did get around to replacing my guitar with a left handed version, I also played quite well an accordion, but my parents sold it at a car boot sale once, they claimed they were having a hard time and I never did get it back, I was doing better on that than the keyboard and I had rather of given up the keyboard instead. The fact I did better with an accordion stands to reason as it was a right handed instrument and the fingers I needed on my left hand could do the job properly.

I haven’t played music for nearly six years because I was ill, but also because the house got a little too crowded and messy and I couldn’t set up my keyboard in a permanent position anymore; afraid it would get damaged I had it boxed up and stored safely under the bed in the spare room and I feel that a neglected and unplayed musical instrument is sacrilege. 

Funnily enough my depression started around the same time I boxed up the keyboard.  I came to this realisation a few days ago but I knew my left hand is worse these days and I can’t improve my left handed playing at all now.  I nearly got into a deeper form of depression with this realisation but then I watched a YouTube video to stop the negative thoughts in their tracks, I stumbled across a TedTalk by a woman named Barbara Sher and the title of the video was “Isolation is the dream-killer”; I have been thinking so much about how isolated I am despite my battle to escape from it because of the struggles I had with certain people in my life a few years ago.  I thought maybe loneliness was one of the main reasons I am depressed, how can I be sure it is missing a musical instrument? 

Well anyway, here is a link to see the video for yourselves – https://youtu.be/H2rG4Dg6xyI

She put out a question that I had to think about for myself and that is “What is your dream and what are your obstacle/obstacles”? 

My first thought I don’t exactly remember, but I do remember that I had several dreams I have that are still unaccomplished and most of the those dreams boil down to financial insecurity where I have to think twice about buying a bottle of Pepsi and of course, isolation.

I browsed a book by my bedside, I think it was called “The Little Book of Wonder” and the lady who had written it said that you have to remain curious throughout your life, if you don’t know something, don’t shrug and think that it doesn’t matter and it isn’t important, if you had that question in your head, go and find the answer as it might lead you into an entirely different path in life.   

So I absorbed those words and thought about stuff and then I browsed more YouTube videos and I found a doctor of psychology called Guy Winch in another TedTalk; He said that loneliness can knock significant number of years off our life and cause us to become ill, it can affect our immune system greatly because our emotional wellbeing determines whether we are healthy or not.  This explained a lot to me, because since living in my own home with my husband and having a baby I have ironically became more isolated than I ever was before I left my parents’ house (ironic because my main form of abuse and neglect was social isolation growing up, even as an adult it was very coercive and controlling the relationship between my mother and I).  But because I had a baby and fell ill just a few weeks shy from his third birthday, I became drastically isolated after being free from true isolation for nearly three years!  In fact for the first eight months of my illness I couldn’t get out of bed to go and talk to a doctor about what was wrong! 

It was around this time I decided to never talk to my parents again too, so the only guaranteed socialising I could have done when I became sick, I cut off.  I was getting five or more phone calls per day from my mum and once a week visits that lasted six hours a time, to having no phone calls with anyone and only annual visits from my adult nephews, to then having just the annual visits ONLY for the next six years.

That isn’t good for anybody!

So I had a long hard look at my life and realised that depression and loneliness is killing me, literally.  It must be, because around six years ago I was diagnosed with a handful of different types of auto-immunity diseases and recently doctors are suspecting MS and/or neurological problems as well. 

One thing I have always been frightened of is Motor-Neurone disease, it runs rife on my dad’s side of the family and my dad’s family as a whole are very close within family, extensive family (we still talk to our cousins four times removed) but don’t socialise much outside of family and church friends or salvation army duties. 

I wondered if illness due to isolation or loneliness could be genetic on my father’s side.

Anyway, Dr Guy Winch’s video can be found here – https://youtu.be/F2hc2FLOdhI

Worrying about being isolated, too sick to socialise and the expense of joining college or a social club (because I have to rely on public transport), I asked some questions to the universe.  I asked the universe what you want me to do?  What do I have to do to change things being there are more obstacles for me than anyone else I know?  I got no answers.

Then I asked the universe that if my life was supposed to be to help motivate others, or be as creative as I can be in all creative interests I have then send me money somehow – if my life isn’t meant to be like this, then make something else happen to blatantly show me what it is I was made to do! 

So, knowing that money doesn’t just fall onto the doorstep when you implore the universe to give it to you – I tried to make receiving it easy.  I decided to (and this is no exaggeration) I decided to take a risk, I had just £15 left for my own personal treats (not the families, my own, I get around £40 a month just for me it is Paul’s rule that I treat myself each month) – I took that £15 and I spent it on 888ladies.com and I won £200, for me that is like winning 5k, I was so happy it paid off my overdraft and I could have a little to spend on a new bra and some new trousers as my clothes are getting too big on me lately.  But I thought that doesn’t change anything; it just helps my current situation without improving it so I took another risk – I said the universe, if I am supposed to learn a musical instrument and buy art supplies I will need this again or a bit more please.  So I rolled the slots again and I instantly won another £250 that is enough I thought, that is enough to get some art supplies and buy a cheap instrument – but I didn’t know what instrument to get?

This made me very happy and I decided to “Be Curious” as the book said earlier that night. 

I asked myself some questions.

What does all these musical instruments I hear on the BBC Proms sound like as solo instruments?  I didn’t know a majority of them singularly.  So I again, went onto YouTube and I searched through every musical instrument I could think of to find solo samples. 

I made a list of my favourite sounds.

Piano

Harpsichord

Jazz Piano

Bass

Trombone

French horn

Piccolo

Recorder

Saxophone

Crystallaphone

Glockenspiel

An apprehension engine

Xylophone

Harp

Lute

Cello

Accordion

Violin

And trumpet

There were others but I don’t remember them. 

Then I asked…

What musical instrument can I learn that has limited mobility to the hand?

Perhaps go back to the accordion and this time learn to read music?

A recorder doesn’t require the left pinkie to play.

A trombone

A xylophone – crystallaphone or a glockenspiel

I then thought about the types of classical music I love the most and I know that I love folk, medieval and baroque above all others! 

So I decided on the recorder first and foremost and eventually the glockenspiel. 

So I bought this recorder for me and Henry (because whenever I do something new Henry nags us to get him the same so he can share practise time with me, which is sweet and expensive sometimes)!

 

 

It was pretty cheap £16.37 each from Amazon.co.uk

It is a Yamaha YRS302BIII Soprano, plastic.  When I had decided it would be the recorder I discovered a wonderful lady on YouTube called Sarah Jeffrey who teaches you practically everything about being a recorder player, she is very enthusiastic and passionate about the instrument and makes learning about it fun!

She can be found here, this is the first lesson https://youtu.be/-d6uVjIEkMY

Until I found her videos I never knew how many different types of recorders there are and that they can all be played the same way, because they are the same instrument.  Different woods and plastic and lengths can make different sounds.  A true and passionate recorder player will have a large collection of different recorders to choose from.  I am getting a baroque alto before Christmas as I am taking to this instrument remarkably and yes, I am trying to learn how to read music now.

I have practised for three hours today and I am very tired now.  I know it is likely I will have two months a year off from practise because I am prone to very nasty chest infections in the winter that usually always lead to pneumonia for some reason.

So, there you have it.  The reason behind why I was late today.

Let me know in the comments below whether or not you are also musically inclined and share with me what you play and what you are passionate about, I would love to know!

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Filed under About my work

Sunday word count 3

This week’s grand total of writing towards my novels is…

2500 words to be exact!

You what?  I normally write that amount in a day!  True, true, but not this week, this week has been a hard week all round for the family.  So therefore I inevitably got to go to…

THE WALL OF SHAME!

dreaded wall of shame

Says some random booming monstrous voice from goodness knows where!

“Yes and I feel so ashamed”.  Said the author of this blog with a huffy laugh and without any hint of conviction in her words;

I didn’t get anywhere near as good as I did in the first week of doing this, let alone my minimum of 10,000 words as you can clearly see. 

Here are the words spread out throughout the week so you can see how much or how little I wrote on any one day;

4th of August – 784 words, quite bad really.

5th August – 0 words – you what?  Call yourself a writer? But the books over there look so pretty, so inviting!

6th August – 811 words – better, but not great, in fact quite awful actually, but not as awful as Sunday’s count.

7th August – 0 words – what again?  What act procrastination doth thou blame this on?  The shiny books?

8th August – 196 words – Oh you are really going to get writer’s cramp with that amount aren’t you?  Rolls eyes*

9th August – 0 words – can you have zero words?  Evidently you can, there is no words to describe how awful a writing (if you can call it that) day like this is!

10th August – 709 words – Yes, good, but I won’t praise myself too much here because this week was utterly disgusting as far as being a writer goes!

The overview is that this is a shockingly terrible week and whoever thinks they are a writer, writing like this ought to completely revalue if they are really a writer or not?

Well I would say to the over viewer (which is myself, so technically I am speaking – no arguing with myself here) is this; I am a writer, however school holidays make dedication to work difficult when I choose to write in the living room, not shutting myself off from the entire world.  Family is important to me, contrary to what certain cretins might say about that!  Not to mention that this past week I have set myself a challenge to read ten enormous books by the 23rd August, so therefore I am reading much more than I normally do and it has also been a bad week for depression; a very bad week in fact for depression.

I have a lot of worries about people that I love too.  Paul has been having difficulties this week as he has injured his arm, I found out recently that my cousin is in hospital for heart problems and he is the only cousin I can trust to emotionally support me in my time of need, the only person in my family other than my immediate household in which I trust has good and non-judgemental intentions towards me.  Also my aunt has been battling cancer for two years now and as much as people think I don’t batter an eyelid, I try not to dramatise anything about others and pretty much keep my thoughts and feeling to myself regarding their problems.  But I am finding that difficult lately and people really don’t know how much I do care about them, because I never turn their problems into my own personal dramas like most people tend to.  Often this makes me come across as aloof and uncaring, but I actually care very deeply about people who are related to me or within my social circle, more than they know, I am just not very good at showing support or love for them and I am sorry for that.  You see in the past I have been accused of being too loving or caring to the point of weirdness and then not enough and so I feel I can’t ever get the balance right, so recently, I guess I don’t even try anymore.  Sorry.  Also I have learned that someone in my family has made a decision to move far away from supportive relatives and isolate themselves and I know that they don’t socialise outside of the family at all and they are very vulnerable due to their disabilities and they are elderly and this is literally freaking me out, as I think to myself, oh my god, what have you done, you impulsive thing you, don’t you learn?  They’ve placed themselves so far out of reach for a lot of caring relatives, that if they need anyone, it will be incredibly difficult to get to them as most of the caring relatives who would help them don’t have their own transport and are on the poverty line and I have heard from the grapevine that they are not happy with their choice after all and there is nothing they can do now, the move has took a lot out of them.

Along with this, Henry has had some problems too and now we are receiving help from a certain charity, I won’t mention what the charity is and what Henry’s problems are because Paul would rather me keep that to myself, but things aren’t going well for us currently and that in itself is contributing to my depressive return; and with all of this too, I have far too many hospital appointments coming up and too many tests that need doing.

Personally I am struggling a lot with my disabilities to even write or read regularly, hence these stupid goals I am forcing onto myself – I am trying to make my life somewhat productive at least.  I might have a neurological problem other than the suspected MS, we don’t really know yet; the doctors are all on guess work right now.  All I know is I am scared of whatever it is getting worse, because lately reading and writing is becoming affected.  I am getting my words mixed up a lot and I don’t even notice it when I reread it half the time.  It could just be depression, who knows?  But I am scared.

When I get bouts of depression I tend to meditate too much to try and forget what got me there in the first place. 

Last week I watched a lot of YouTube videos, this week I haven’t even done that.  But I really should, I should force myself to watch things like the Motivational Archive when I get like this, it sometimes helps.

Well anyway, thank you for reading – you’ve all been an absolute gem to keep on reading.  I hope you all have a lovely day and have lots of fun and come back again soon.

Good luck with your own writing adventures and why don’t you send me a snippet for me to read?  I don’t read many blogs, I really ought to, and there are some amazing people out there.

Hopefully next week will be a better week?

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Your fiery glove

As I build bridges of friendships and love, you come burning them down again with one fair swoop of your fiery glove.

I tried so hard to make family and friends, but you crashed down the walls and I couldn’t mend them.

You destroyed so much and I grew tired and ill, this is why you are not in my life still.

I need other people not just you.

You think I’m an introvert, you haven’t a clue.

You are the introvert, I socialise fine.

I don’t judge others, I am benign.

I tried so hard not to throw you away, because I am a people person, not like you in anyway.

However a time came when you drove me mad, I had to leave you and though it is sad, I am glad.

Because the poison you seep into my relationships are gone.

As you burned down my bridges I learned to swim across the pond.

Now I have not much family, but I am starting to gain friends and comradery.

It is wonderful, but you don’t see.

You only think that I have wounded thee.

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Filed under Poems V - Z

Going deaf to your misery

 

royalty free image from pixabay

DISCLAIMER – 

The below poem is not meant to be offensive – I am personally a sensory impaired member of society, I am very short sighted with astigmatism and I am totally deaf in my right ear with only 35% hearing in my left ear and I could potentially lose that, considering I have auto-immune inner ear disease.  I have only learned to develop a sense of humour with the cards I’ve been dealt with in life, please understand.

 

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of deaf

I shall hear no evil, but see a lot I might

Though I hear not the barks that scold me, I see the awful sight

Evidence of those who hate me are seen everywhere

And they sit back and they think that I really, really care

But yea, the mind is full of ego

And they shall think of themselves

I shall sit in wonderment, why they don’t put the hate on their shelves?

I wonder why every day, why they think of me?

When I have left them long ago, yet they still want to torture me?

Then I realise that those poor dears, they do not have a life

So that is why they taunt me, with curses and poisoned words of strife

They of course have an ego too, that you can be sure

That they sit around every day gossiping of the times of yore

Becoming old and bitter, making their friends think that they are a bore

By choosing to focus on the dead past, the past that makes them sore

And I sit back still amazed, that they have chosen to concentrate

On things about me, each and every day, because poisoned words always finds a way

To go back to the victim

You see that’s the side effects of your conviction

Gossip not and leave the friction

 

 

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Filed under Poems G - I

Painkiller for my very soul

I am not wallowing in pity each and everyday

My poems of woes and misery are things that ease the way

It’s a painkiller for my very soul

I need to write, even if it’s dull

It helps to cure the pain

When I write my songs of misery, it may seem like it’s about you

But it is about events that happened long ago, it’s true

You should not sit there thinking, this is one is about me I’m sure

Because then you only open up wounds and make your heart go sore

You don’t know what my poems mean; you don’t know who they are about

So don’t sit there thinking you know what’s going on, when in fact you don’t know my clout

The world in my poems isn’t about you, so stay out

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Filed under Poems P - R

I’m not your nurse and carer

You couldn’t keep me locked up forever and a day

Until you are old and frail, until you were old and grey

Then send me out into the world as your own born and raised saviour

And expect me not to love life and savour the sweet taste of life

You couldn’t expect to do that without trouble and strife

You couldn’t keep me shut away in the house each and everyday

Then tell me that there’s no time to play, that life will just get in the way of caring for the old you

You couldn’t do that, so that’s why I left you

I am not your personal handmaiden, born for your every whim

I am not your nurse and carer; I am not your cloned twin

I am my own person, though I’m your family and your kin

If you didn’t treat me that way, you might have kept me and wouldn’t have lived in yin

You are clouded in darkness because of your troublesome ways

It didn’t need to be so, if you let people grow and go their own ways

You did this to yourself, though it hurts me always

But now my life begins…

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Filed under Poems G - I

Loyalty, Vampires and Passion

I adore vampires, I am not sure if I’ve ever made that clear on here before (grins knowingly) and I’ve been thinking about them a lot today. I’ve been thinking about my favourite vampires, Judas Iscariot from Dracula 2000, John Carpenters VAMPIRES, Interview with the vampire and Daughter of Darkness to name but a few.
I love the culture surrounding vampires and everything Gothic, from the strange music options, to the fashion, the architecture and the darkness of it all, to the sheer sinfulness of loving it.
I love the strangest things and the strangest things inspire me to write and paint.
The strange haunting sounds of the music from Nox Arcana in their album Transylvania = visitors in the night, to their album shadow of the raven = the black cat wails and cries of a demon cat and the semi-Gregorian chants throughout all their albums.
I love the tribal belly dance scene, the gothic belly dancers from tribal fusion, I collect the DVDs regularly, I am a particular fan of Rachel Brice – to me, all of this just oozes vampire.
As a former belly dancer myself (not professionally) I am saddened that I didn’t learn about the tribal fusion style dancers until 2yrs after I gave up the dances, if I had known beforehand I think I would have sought them out and have become professional. I adore the dances and I would love someday to have a daughter who has the same interests in it as I do.
Unlike a lot of traditionalists, I don’t see belly dance as a thing solely for women, there is a form of belly dance for men! In fact it was traditional for both sexes to belly dance right up until the Persian Empire was created, then it was almost eradicated entirely for a practise for men and became a very sexualised dance solely for women by the Persian conquerors. The dance is debated to have originally come from the eastern side of Greece, near Salonica.
There is a dancer known as Prince Andrew which practises the masculine form, by belly dancing with a sword balanced on his naked waist and hips and balanced on his head. I find it very sexy, a very sensual dance. He looks almost like a character from Sinbad and the eye of the tiger; though his style is considered to be indo belly dance, a kind of traditional Indian style.
Here are a couple of videos with Prince Andrew dancing.
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?

q=male+belly+dancer+prince&&view=detail&mid=3920BBFA2116361685563920BBFA211636168556&rvsmid=D607C79DEB3A3D2D04ACD607C79DEB3A3D2D04AC&fsscr=0&FORM=VDFSRV
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?

q=male+belly+dancer+prince&&view=detail&mid=D607C79DEB3A3D2D04ACD607C79DEB3A3D2D04AC&rvsmid=D607C79DEB3A3D2D04ACD607C79DEB3A3D2D04AC&fsscr=0&FORM=VDFSRV

Masculine belly dance is starting to become popularised once again, there are more and more male dancers taking to the scene which I find rather exciting.
Another form of dance I like and think is very Gothic, is fire dancing.
I think vampires are very passionate beings, they put their heart and their soul into everything they do, they surround themselves with beautiful things, things they love, because eternity is a long time if you are around things you dislike or things that do not give you pleasure.
I think because they have eternity on their hands, they go out of their way to surround themselves with things that make them happy, collections from the past and even collecting newly sired people to be around them, of the nature that they like and connect with or that feel familiar to them. This is what I think happened to Lestat in Anne Rice’s vampire chronicles. I think Lestat was very nostalgic and may have seen something in Louis that attracted him to sire him, because he reminded him of someone he knew in his mortal life. Whether or not the relationship was compatible it didn’t matter to Lestat, he wanted familiarity and companionship and for a while he got it from Louis.
I feel very sad for Lestat, he seemed very alone. I think he and I would have got along very well together if he were real. I certainly would never leave his side; I am loyal to a fault with anyone I think is akin to me – not so loyal to those who are not akin to me however; being akin means more to me than being simply blood related, it is how our very essences match each other, how we connect, do we click? If not, then the relationship will be very short lived.
I consider myself to be a very passionate person. I am passionate about everything that I do and I seldom do anything that I am not passionate about. If I find it boring, I won’t do it, I will delegate – which is what I do even for my online games. I delegate the boring parts of the game to Paul, feeding my pets for example or setting them up for adoption for me. Some people call it being lazy; I call it, living my life to the fullest, and why not? Mortal lives are short anyway, there is no vampire going to sire me in this world. More is the pity.
That’s why I envelop myself with vampire mythology, vampire movies, haunting music, music boxes, pictures of wolves, bats and gothic castles around the house, thick wine coloured velvet curtains in the living room, old roses in the front garden with lilac and irises. Royal purple walls in the bedroom with a black carpet and red bedding. But not everything about my house is wonderfully gothic; unfortunately, there are a lot of places I need to decorate in order to eradicate the cold ice white walls my mother painted in most of the rooms downstairs. The brown sofa is a far cry from what I think is perfect, but it will do for the time being.
I have owl ornaments everywhere, a box filled with raven feathers, a raven feather silver necklace I wear on very special occasions. I miss the tiger’s eye ring my ex stole from me and the wolf fleece blanket with the midnight blue sky and full moon another ex-took from me. Yes I know, they are just things, but they were mine and I loved them. Especially the ring, that was special – my dad seldom could afford to give me anything with the money my mum would allow him, so anything he gave me was more precious than life’s blood, he gave me that ring, my ex stole it and that hurts.
It wasn’t all that particular ex stole, he stole an heirloom, the ring was an heirloom, he also stole my savings and unbeknownst to my mother at the time I had savings of £12,000 and when he dumped me I had less than £500 left.
It is this ex that made me dominant. After he hurt me and abused me in more ways than one, I became bitter against men in general for about six years, the boyfriends I had before Paul, were all submissive in the BDSM scene. Paul however wasn’t, but he wasn’t prepared to take me as a submissive, he reckoned he saw the true nature of me that was hidden because of abuse. I must admit that I had a lot of my gumption beaten out of me over the years before I met Paul. Since living with Paul the tolerance for other people negative behaviours towards me are at a minimum, boy have I got feisty since meeting Paul and he thinks this is a good thing.
I have a very low tolerance for anyone destroying my peace, destroying what I have accomplished since disowning my mother three years ago, I have a very short fuse for anything that upsets me. Learn what I like, learn my boundaries and we can be very good friends, solid in fact.
I have no qualms telling people that I demand a lot, I demand attention and the best, I demand love, I demand to be considered precious and above all, I demand loyalty not only for me, but my chosen family.
I consider my family as a pack, a clan, a tribe – very similar to how people view vampires, they have their little nest of individuals that stick together, I consider myself and the members of my house to be like this… a solid loyal unit.
I crave a large pack, whether fashioned together with a few like-minded friends or having children and teaching them loyalty and supportiveness of each other.
This is one the most unforgiving things I cannot stand about my mother. The bridges she burned when the family needed her the most, she’s a quitter. I’ve never been a quitter, but thanks to the bridges she burned not a lot of family wants to talk with me anymore, except for my father’s side of the family. They associate me as her little goon, because I was never allowed to leave her side right up until I was 27yrs old, I went everywhere with her, even missing school for home education to be with her, because she demanded it. As far as many relatives and friends were concerned I and my mother seemed close, too close, unnaturally close, so many believed we held the same values. In fact we’re total opposites.
My heart breaks day in and day out because of the family isolation I’ve endured because of her. When granddad was alive, I would be in regular contact of so many relatives, I was socialising at the weekends with the grandchildren of his cousins! Now that’s extensive family for you, what’s more is I was lucky enough as a child to have this happen on both sides of the family. My father’s side of the family are in regular contact with my grandmother’s siblings grandchildren! But again, because my mother isolates herself, she has therefore isolated me and my father from both sides of the family over the years.
I went from having approximately 15 to 20 visitors a week at the house, all different, all relatives, and having up to 18 people visit on Christmas Eve or Christmas Evening, to getting a visitor once a fortnight, the same one or two people and then only 6 for Christmas dinner, then down to just 5 for Christmas dinner and a visit from my brother and his girlfriend once a month.
I have a void that has not been filled since.
This is why I am in the scene, not the Gothic scene, but the BDSM scene. This is why I am so open-minded about open-relationships, I crave a large family and if I can’t make one through having children, then I intend to grow a large network and I think it is very unfair for anyone to try and deny me that.
I love vampires as they are eternally loyal and passionate.

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Filed under My inspirations

The facts in the case of the departure of Miss Finch by Neil Gaiman

The facts in the case of the departure of Miss Finch by Neil Gaiman

“The facts in the case of the departure of Miss Finch” was familiar to me in the sense that the scenery set was very alike to an old Hammer Horror movie I am very fond of called “The Vampire Circus”; though I am not suggesting that this story is a breach of copy-right, merely that the scenery was similar, for example; the movie was about a vampire count who fell in love with a local school-teacher and got her delivering her young pupils occasionally for his dietary needs, eventually she was discovered by her husband delivering a child and the vampire executed in the usual fashion and the woman outcast from the village. She was told formerly by the count that if they were ever discovered that she could contact a cousin of his on the other side of the country who were a traveling night time circus that advertises mesmerism; during the killing of the count, the count had threatened the lynch mob that if he should die, then so should all the children of the village. Many years past and the traveling night circus came and sought revenge for their cousin in the most innovative ways imaginable.

Some of their first victims were visitors of the circus; they entered a tent where they saw various acts and a hall of mirrors only for them never to return to their families alive. Though primarily the movie was about the circus seeking revenge, most of the other victims were seduced into giving up their lives, it was the burgomaster that died in the tent under suspicious circumstances; but because he was so incredibly fat, people presumed the fun and laughter of the hall of mirrors had caused him to succumb to a heart attack.

Similar acts happened in Neil Gaiman’s story, very captivating in more ways than one and a delight for me to read, particularly as not only was it so very similar to my most favorite Hammer Horror movie, but it was also read within a week of me finishing “The Night Circus” by Erin Morgenstern and “Emerald Star” by Jacqueline Wilson, which oddly enough have mesmerism and circus’s in their themes too – reading all was a fluke.

I do love stories that have carnival and circus themes to them, another story I read months before I read this Neil Gaiman classic was “The man in the picture” by Susan Hill.

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daily pages 2 2015

I am not going to fall at the first hurdle of writing my daily pages, though currently it is hard to do when I have a constantly screaming 4yr old boy in the room with me and I have a mild headache with a double ear infection. Trying to think positively and trying to imagine I am well, I am healthy and I am not irritated by senseless and mindless toddler noises… trying, but not successfully.
My husband wants to take the family for a walk around the estate and village, but I am also interested in not only writing these daily pages right now which could take me about 90 minutes if I can’t think of anything to say, but I also want to watch whilst typing this a documentary about Neanderthals, of which I am convinced my son is one.
Also my brain is occupied with the music theme tune of a children’s program called gigglebiz, a program I hate, but the tune is annoyingly catchy on a religious level; that’s how I believe religion became so successful, good music, great lyrics, catchy and annoying tunes that you keep hearing yourself singing or whistling and before you know it, you think you’re religious because you like the music… scary stuff.
Want to control the world? Be a great musician that can create catchy to borderline annoying tunes that people will love to hate, and your work will never be forgotten and before long people will be living what you’ve written… think hippy! Think happy clappy!
People hate happy clappy because it gets into you so much if you allow yourself to listen to it.
Positive energy is just as catching as negative energy, though some positive energy can be difficult to get rubbed with, because there is always some kind of recoil from others… they’re so used to feeling negative and seeing things in a bleak way, that the light scares them… think about being in a cinema during the day then leaving the cinema at high noon with clear blue skies… painful huh? Energy works pretty much the same way.
Anyway on another note I have been playing word tornado on facebook a lot this afternoon and losing dramatically, seems like the whole world gets over 700 points and I only get an average of 580 – you know I doubt the authenticity of their so called talent because I play scrabble a lot offline with people and I am always the winner. I have a very broad vocabulary and a very cunning way in using the board and I hang around with people with very high IQs, so I guess there’s a lot of internet game cheating going on there.
What is the point? It’s a game, you don’t feel the same way when you cheat and win in a game than when you play honestly and win, so why?
I cannot believe that everyone I play against is a genius.
In fact I absolutely refused to believe it.
Anyway, rant about game cheating aside, for the last 3 months I have repeatedly borrowed one book from my local library called “The art of Gothic music and fashion” by Natasha Scharf. It’s quite a read and quite inspiring.
It’s one of those books that have double pages on each page, I am unsure what it is called, but you can sometimes find old Sherlock Holmes books that are like that, like newspapers.
In the books there is a lot about all types of gothic people, from Lolita goths to steampunks, unfortunately there is nothing in there about some people I know in the BDSM scene who are what is known as “Cyberdogs” gothic, black leather wearing dog roleplayers that where fetish dog masks, something that I have seen once or twice during my travels to Camden Town.
However, talking of cyberdogs the fashion company was mentioned there.
Woof, I think I would have liked to of come under that category if I was still available in the BDSM scene, though with my weight I’d probably look like some overweight bulldog… which no offense to bulldog enthusiasts or bulldogs in general, to me that’s not a good look.
I am listening to beautiful Greek music whilst typing this, yes the Neanderthal program was turned off about 90 minutes ago and I had a long game of online word tornado.
My toddler is sitting on the sofa bleary eyed with tonsillitis and all I can do is recoil as I am only just getting over severe pharyngitis where my GP felt I was nearly hospitalised earlier on this week.
I mentioned the Greek music because I remember a time I heard this exact song played at my mum’s friend’s house Niki and my mum mistook it for Asian music and told her, in an offensive tone to turn off the said music in the most derogatory term of phrase she could come out with – my mum’s friend Niki replied with zeal and shock and horror, that it’s not that type of music at all it’s Greek! To which mum seemed very embarrassed.
I love all cultures, I love their music, their food, their ways, I love learning about people from all walks of life, my only prejudice is religion of any mainstream kind, especially if people kill for the sake of their religion, or if their religion has a history of killing people when conversion was impossible.
Now my randomiser has turned on some medieval music, I am very eclectic (nearly wrote epileptic), my brother is an epileptic and I was told I have a minor form of it by a Rugby GP because I said I get some sensations on my head like people are stroking my hair from time to time which seems to be getting more intense lately, I don’t believe him personally.
I started these daily pages about 4 hours ago, still not finished. I am not in a creative mood today, today is a day off after all, it’s Sunday.
It’s not that I am not dedicated to my work, but today I woke up late and I felt in a reading or scrabble like game mood, particularly as my back is still getting over the fast bumpy bus ride I had into Coventry yesterday, I think they’ve sprained my back!
I am by far a hypochondriac by the way! Seriously not one, just bloody unlucky!
I also have a craving to watch the first episode of Game of Thrones on DVD rental by lovefilm, but when my 4yr old son is awake I won’t, he will not be allowed to watch such violence, I demand that! Also, if I couldn’t watch that then I would like to watch Van Helsing because in my opinion that’s very mild for a child to watch in comparison to other vampire movies, but when a female vampire threw the cow at a building Henry freaked out and got very upset over the mistreatment of the cow last year that he categorically hates vampires – bursts into tears, how can anyone hate them? They’re my kindred spirits!
My son hates me since; especially when I told him I love vampires and that I am one in my books.
All jokes aside our relationship did change after that movie.
I have at least another 600 words to write before the 3 pages are done for the day.
I still find it annoying that some relatives watch this blog, just so they can stop me talking about things that are TRUE AND REAL but they’d rather hide it under the carpet like some dirty secret. They keep brain washing me about skeletons in the closet and my brother isn’t the only relative either, some other relatives are encouraging me to speak the truth, some of them will shock my immediate family because it’s not who they think they are, it’s the most unlikeliest.
Because I was raised in a very unhappy environment, but no one is allowed to know that as I will be sued for defamation apparently.
So yes, like always, I am living under the shadows of blackmail by my bullying family.
It’s infuriating because originally this blog was set up as a form of therapy to overcome my problems, by the advice of my psychologist.
If I ever became famous, I would want people to know the whole me, no holds barred – not because I am an attention seeker, but because I don’t like skeletons in the closet. I would rather be honest and forthright to people, instead of sitting back meekly being a mystery – because let’s face it, before I moved in with my husband I hate no life before the age of 26yrs old… so that’s going to raise a lot of uncomfortable questions in itself, because my life, my experiences up until that point were very, very minimal and people will think that there were bad things about me directly, when in fact it wasn’t – it was things happening to me by bad people.
I also want to raise awareness of certain things once I am famous or even before I am famous, because there are a lot more ways to abuse a child or a relative that people originally think.
Isolating them, home-educating them to isolate them further, when they become adults, making major life decisions for them because if they refuse they will have bad things happen to them and they live constantly in blackmail. I put my foot down against my mother in 2013 because she tried to force me to commit fraud, that’s the truth behind why I don’t like contact with her now. Because she tried her best to make me commit a crime which is not within my nature, Paul was abhorred and it was him, along with a family support worker and my psychologist that felt that the break had to be made as I cannot raise a child around a grandmother who thinks that fraud is OK on certain conditions and that you’re a bad person if you don’t do it for your mother/grandmother.
Awareness of different kinds of abuse needs to be raised.

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Watercolor mermaid 1st attempt

1st attempt at watercolor mermaid scene

1st attempt at watercolor mermaid scene

 

For the last 6 months I have attempted to teach myself art, sketching and painting particularly with watercolors.
The image that you see is my first ever attempt at creating a watercolor mermaid under the sea scene and my first ever attempt at under-painting a picture.
This image is unfinished and I am afraid to say it will stay that way because I mixed the shades of colors that are used on the paper and my fiance Paul knocked over the palette when getting it for me and it was all lost and I am very reluctant to attempt to try making more of the same shades of color as I don’t want to completely ruin this picture.
There are some blemishes to the image, for example the mark of yellow on her left inside elbow amongst other things, but I cannot repair these without severely impacting on the color scheme, as I cannot guarantee I can mix the same shades again.
I am a self-taught artist that have only really been practicing twice a month any kind of art-work for about a year now, as I mentioned before my attempt at watercolors started about six months ago.
In my personal opinion, starting to teach yourself artwork, particularly sketching/drawing shouldn’t really start at how-to-draw books, because that never worked for me, instead, trusting my own eye works better and reading books based on painting; that is of course if you eventually want to move onto painting your images.
I have been getting a lot of comments from my immediate family and friends that they believe I have a natural talent for art considering that I spend less than five hours a month practicing; personally I don’t see it, I see too many imperfections in my work and I cheat. For example, I have hidden one of the mermaid’s hands in this picture because I couldn’t make it look as good as her right hand and the paper was thinning with all the erasing I had to do.
I have a gallery at deviantart.com if you wish to see more pictures that I’ve done as well as my budding artist four year old son, Henry, some of his best work are up there, which reminds me that I must add his version of a toucan up later on.
http://ffgallery.deviantart.com/

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