Once upon a time...

Once upon a time, I was an avid writer. I would sit for hours making up stories about talking pigs and toys coming to life, writing my own little story books. I was convinced that I would become an author. But one day something changed, an I lost the ability to put my imagination to paper. The stories are still there and any one who knows me will confirm I have some weird tales that I spew out every so often. But nothing gets written down anymore. And this saddens me. However something new happened, I began to paint and sketch and create physical models. I had changed my medium, I had transitioned from a caterpillar writing stories to a butterfly creating art. I'm not saying I'm gods gift to the art world but it's a change that has  made me happy. Don't get me wrong, I definitely miss writing or else I wouldn't be here, it's just when words escape me simple marks and dabs on paper or walls or canvas (or anything!) help me express the emotions I just can't say. I have found that in the past 5 years my art has been dark, and it was at its darkest when I was at my darkest, feeling I was trapped with no release. Now days I'm not so bad, but as my mood drops my drawing becomes more Poe-ish. Ravens and hearts beating below floor boards kind of thing.

Anyway, I'm now babbling, it's late and I have been awake for 17 hours. So bed beckons so I can do it all again tomorrow. 

Hopefully another post tomorrow, a more coherent one about my first week at university.

But for now I bid you adieu.