Lifestyle

Dear November

We have met twenty seven times before this but it was not until five years ago that I recognised your heaviness. As the eleventh month...

The girl who wasn't curious: a letter on bisexuality

The letter which follows was written after reading about writing to your past self. I struggle with my visibility and talking openly and...

On Summer: an essay

June to September are the months I yearn for as every year closes and begins. They are my summer months. The months I have painted with...

On being one year sober

I had counted down the days. Typical, really. A small child at Christmas. The moment midnight struck I even called it Christmas: a tiny...

A letter to the riverbank

My choice to visit you was one of bravery. Although I did not realise this until I had passed the grazing cows and your expanse lay...

In a writing slump?

This isn't for rainy days and this isn't to discuss whether writer's block truly exists. Ask any writer and they will have different...

Age 28

I am brave. I imagined this but never believed it possible. The need for money, security, was too keen. It felt like life was nothing but...

A letter to Cornwall

I wish to begin with forgiveness. Forgiveness for you and me both. For the long drives, the travel sickness and the fog. Very little of...

On Spring: an essay

Spring is the season of labour. These are the months we give birth to ourselves again. It isn't beautiful. For some it may be a miracle....

Albatross Heavy - a poem

I am albatross heavy and full of questions: every social media platform has become a window into houses without walls, blown clean, free...

A letter for the bees

To the bees living in my chimney, I always mention you whenever I write about spring, summer and the arrival of a cold winter snap. I...

Book one hundred

My Good Reads goal this year was to read one hundred books; having surpassed this number earlier than expected, I have decided to reflect...

I am 82 days sober

I am 82 days sober and today was the first time I did not cry when listening to She Used To Be Mine by Sara Bareilles. This either means...

Art & illness

The image of the struggling artist has become instilled in popular culture; we idolise the artist who faces financial troubles, addiction...

An introduction

Beginnings have always felt like endings to me. I have always felt the need to acknowledge what has passed when introducing myself anew....