I feeling a bit exhausted right now. Can't quite figure out if it's physical or mental. Putting this stuff out here, I do think it affects me. Or maybe it isn't even the putting the art out as much as it is writing about it. The funny thing is I have thought about these pieces a lot, I've said the things I'm typing to myself, I've already had these thoughts. But there is a big difference between a thought in your head and words on a screen.

This piece is pretty important to me. The inspiration was my childhood, much/most of which was spent at my Gran's flat. Her living room window overlooked the beach and the sea. When I think of my childhood, I think of the beach. I think of the sea and I think of the waves. I'm not sure if it's overly analyzing to say I probably have a deeper connection to the sea than I would have by just living near it.

This is the image that comes to my head. Not calm water or sunny days or not so sunny days. The image is stormy and violent and beautiful all in one. I cherish the image but when it's put there in front of me it's a strange mix of scary and pretty. Which pretty much sums up my childhood, if I'm honest.

There were good moments but they were much further apart than they should have been, especially when I got older. And there were ugly moments. Horrible, terrifying moments that seem more horrifying the further I get away from them. 

But I also see my bad experiences as some sort of twisted blessing. I gained empathy and selflessness and an awareness that I don't think I could have gotten any other way. I'm in no way grateful for the ugliness but I think it has to have a purpose. It has to have a reason and I have to give it that.

If I were to throw everything it gave me away, it would just been for nothing.

I don't want my experiences to be nothing.