Category: Journal

I’m busy trying to get rich and famous before the world ends. I’m frantically trying to figure out how to make a living while countries freeze, flood or burn and species die in the hundreds of thousands. I’m wondering what the hell is the point of art if we’re all going to die. I’m wondering […]

Empathetic me, I’m still learning to be boundaried to prevent the scurvy of compassion fatigue. When do I tune in to the pain of the world? At what frequency? For how long? How do I keep my heart open? Radically open? How do I listen to the screams and needs without drowning out my own? […]

  Hey weirdo hey queer ho taking stock of microscopic aggression and holding on to little old hurts ya mum calls out “suck in that gut” ya chum writes down “I’m feeling a lot of concern about your interest in BDSM” fellow feminist scowls “you’re exploiting yourself by making porn” your in law’s eyes roll […]

I’ve been thinking a lot about intergenerational trauma. Like how someone might be abusive because his father was abusive because HIS father had untreated PTSD from going to war as a teenager. Then I think, as I often have, about how a privileged person might look at a population of indigenous people and wonder why […]

At the start of the year, I made a Spotify playlist called “2018 will be magic”. It was a desire, a decision, a hope. 2017 was a year of trauma, of mental health collapse, of emotional abuse, of the worst sort of suicidal ideation, of conflict, of loss, of feeling the pain was forever and […]

What is this feeling is it biting off more than I can chew so my jaw hurts so my eyes pool up with salt water and I drive down the road blank and staring and watch the road don’t forget to watch the road what is this what is this what is this. I’m scared […]

I’m learning on the fly how to hold the pieces of myself together. It’s a skill I’ve never been good at before, I’ve so often crumbled, wilted, broken down, melted down. But now I know it isn’t just about me, now I know the ways in which the architecture of myself is interlocked with the […]

I wish I could travel back in time. Back to when you were wide eyed and tiny, back before the world had you so badly battered and bruised. I wish I could hold you in my arms, kiss your sweet forehead, stroke your soft hair and tell you that you’re safe. I wish I could […]

There have been many times in my life when I have hovered on the edge of my own existence but the closest call I ever had was last year. I was in New York and in the depths of shame and despair, I was only seconds away from jumping in front of an incoming train. […]

When you have a disability and suffer from chronic pain, sometimes your achievements will be weaponised; “You could handle making a web series so you could handle having a job.” In fact, I can see how it must look from the outside, when I walk into social engagements bursting with energy, when my artistic output […]