This year's winter was fleeting, barely inviting us to don much more than a jacket. It's been warmer than ever, our planet sending us clear, pained warnings. It was barely even spring when the jacarandas made their vibrant return to our city, forever our beautiful signal that the end of the year was near.
Since my last life post, there has been so much change. Martin has been on crutches since late June, having surgery in August and an extensive period of recovery even until now. I left one job for another, in turn remembering myself again, returning to my creative self and making time for drawing, reading, and hand-lettering once more—my very first loves. I was, and always have been, driven by a thirst for conceptuality, for substance and for art; forever wanting to maintain meaning and message in my work. I felt limited, frustrated, my ideas lacklustre and my creativity dull. I wanted to be pushed, and so I pushed.
I was once again inspired; once again growing. Somehow, without needing to learn anything new, I flourished. I've had everything I needed all along, to create work that was strong, and full of calibre—all I needed was change.
With these periods of change and growth came an even greater period of adversity. I lose battles daily, the tightening of my chest and my pounding, busy head taking over any sense of being collected. Sometimes I feel that my head will explode from the pressure, that the pain in my throat will cause it to collapse and my eardrums will burst from the noise. I am often overwhelmed by how much I care about everything. It's always been all or nothing. If I am going to care, I will care a lot; if I am going to love, I'm going to love a lot; if I'm going to do something, I want to do it well. But I think I would rather be this way, than any other.
Photos below taken on an iPhone 5. All this and more over at my VSCO Grid.