Stories that set your mind thinking

Please feel free to read the blog. It is inspired from my struggles with mental health.
If you require more literature on mental health, please read the book, at the link above.
The book is a work of fiction but inspired by the reality of living with mental health issues.
It is a collection of ten stories, from science fiction to fantasy to everyday life.
There are characters who make you think.

my london 1990

                                                     My London, 1990

I was studying art in London, in 1990, but feeling a little disappointed with my life. I happened to see a picture in the newspaper, of a man, banging a bodhrain;, a hand held ancient Irish drum !

It had an old Celtic symbol on it and I knew right then, that was what I was looking for. I made a subconscious note to find out more about it.

The art and inspiration, in London , for me at this point had dried up. Hip Hop and rap dominated popular culture. I felt as if there was nothing but an empty box of packaging and crassness, to being 'Down with my homies !'

But living in London, had taught me to stand on my own two feet ! To live and cook healthy meals and to keep fit. African or Afro-American culture was very prevalent. The band 'Soul II Soul', could be found at the nightclub 'The Fridge' in Brixton most weekends. White trainers out placed the black Dr Martin shoes.

It was very trendy, to be fit in the capital, and so I attended a lot of dance classes; contemporary, modern, jazz, Latin, in community centres. Installation art was seen as the pinnacle of art expression.

I read the writer 'Alice Walker' voraciously. 'The Colour Purple' and 'Living by the Word'.

I once queued up outside 'The Africa Centre' to see her in person, but there were too many people out there, in the crowd to wait.

To keep trim, I used to buy oyster mushrooms and lychees, from Croydon street market. I'd cook them at home, with garlic, soy sauce and rice. I lived in South London, in Norwood, close to Gypsy Hill and Crystal Palace. I also lived in North London, in Muswell Hill. Here I once found an original publication of Jim Morrison ( The Doors) poetry books.

I read Oscar Wilde’s 'Dorien Grey' I worked in 'The Young Unknowns' art gallery in Waterloo. I saw Ella Fitzgerald, live at The Royal Albert Hall, shortly before she died. I'd often visit 'The Victoria and Albert Museum' on the south Kensington tube stop.

I also read Victoria Woolf and Sylvia Plaths 'The Bell jar'. I met Paula Rego, the very popular Portuguese artist. I had a good friend called Jill Salmon.

She would wear men's suits and drink out of a bottle of wine, quite occasionally !

She had a big heart, an infectious laugh and great sense of fun ! She also used to live in squats. She squatted many empty buildings, from rough tenement houses in the Elephant and Castle, to empty playboy mansions in Hampstead Heath.

When she squatted a council flat, in Peckham, I would travel all the way down, from North London

on a Saturday afternoon, to see her. We would go for a meal of pork belly, mash, cabbage and gravy in a n indoor cafe at Peckham's market.

I never got to try, jellied eels, in the pie and mash shops on the Old Kent Road though I think I had a pie, which they said 'wasn't horse meat !' I'd often go out all day and sit in various cafes, you could smoke in them then. So I'd sit all day long , with a fag and a cup of tea, writing poems in my notebook.

Art College, in London, attracted people from all over the UK and abroad. It was a great mixing ground for so many ideas and melting pot of cultures and backgrounds. In fact it was difficult to find genuine Londoners, as they seemed to blend into the background, instead of wanting to stand out. The Londoners I did meet, were black or half Asian, and because the music so heavily influenced my thinking, I was drawn to them. But I fell flat trying to express myself through it,

because it wasn't really my culture, I just sympathised with it.

And I soon felt hallow, as if I'd burnt myself out. I couldn't keep up with the pace and needed rest.

Although I didn’t realise the importance of rest at this time. I'd work like crazy until it made me ill. Then I'd wonder why I was feeling ill.

I didn't realise that I needed a rest and a life outside of the whirly burly of fashionable art college. I needed a home, security, routine, peace of mind. I wasn't getting this, just through myself into art exhibition after art exhibition, while trying to support myself, going to job interview after job interview.

I hated work outside of art college. I had no means of supporting myself, and so I had to work to pay, rent, bills, food, travel costs, art equipment. I didn't lead an extravagant life of wine bars and going out. The pinnacle or jewel in the crown of my existence, was making art.

It was all Work! Work! Work! And of course this led to breakdowns, numerous ones – in public, in private, on buses, in strange places. And all due to an excess of work.

No holiday, no break, no rest. I didn't think it through. I didn't have a strategy or game plan, just through myself at it, time after time. And still do to this day.

Though now I realise, the importance of relaxation and rest. Probably because my body and mind tell me of it. Demand it ! When I am tired or stressed out, I lock myself away, cocoon myself for a while until I am better.

Though I'm sure my vocation is to be an artist, I still wonder what it would be like in other walks of life. But rest, sleep, downtime are important to everyone.

So don't knock it when someone tells you they want to get away. They are only doing, what their bodies tell them.

poison arrow

3/2/12

The Little Silver Bell.

A little silver bell rings crystal clear,

But because it is inside a box, noone hears it.

That's what it is like for Dennis,

He's peeling, working, with his message;

'Ding Dong' perfectly, though because

He's wrapped up, harnessed, swaddled, and swathed,

In cushioning packaging,

Noone can hear his perfect chimes!

He's muzzled, or censored. Silent.

That's not nice, a toy only,

On display, a show piece, a trophy.

No sound emits his form.

His use as a bell is taken away.

He is not a bell,

He is disabled.

A padded box will keep him safe, forever.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I see a black widow spider. A typical smoker. A woman who wants to break free of fish odour and family ties. Who lives in a world of darkness and who is broken and sad. Who has poor hygiene, and doesent look after herself -at times-slipping into a morbid black.

Her stomach-too fat-with baby fat 12 years on. A dangerous look to her, with glasses and hair, dark and long.

Sometimes she looks like a mental patient !- A fat, mid waist- an extra tyre around her waist.

Happy when she sings the latest pop tune in her head. Music she equates with well being.

Music is being herself ! Sad and lonely, in a room she sits. Thinking back

'You didn't love me then'

'You make fun of me' 'poor scorn on me', 'leave me mad and upset'.

The tune you hum, a whistle in her ear.

Are you frightened ? As slowly, she wraps you round her finger.
On a ticket to nowhere love is her passion.
Is that what you think ?
Thats how you see me, isn't it ?
As someone bad, suspect, dodgy.
Your stereotype and stigma, without even knowing me,
is reflected in my eyes.

I'm 'whacky' aren't I !? I think the vast majority of mental health workers are excellent. Back in 2008, I was angry, with an axe to grind. Now, I have no hard feelings. I don't bare grudges. I wish the staff positive and gratitude, and a Happy Christmas 2011 !

^{Wednesday,16th}_{November, 2011.}

_{Thisis my life-chaos, a mess.}

_{Ismile to look good, important, confident.}

_{Mydad comes home, every so often. We meet up, in a pub called TheAdelphi, which serves roast dinners, on a Sunday.}

_{Myson, is adopted. I get a photo and letter, once a year. This year,2011, he's standing on a beach, with a spade. In the photo, he's verytall and handsome. He's smiling. My sister, Aneira and Partner Tomhave just had a baby boy, they've called Dylan. My two youngestsisters; Tegwen and Aneira are posing in a small family photo takenby my Father in Aneiras house in Middlesex. Its a lovely photo.}

_{Myartwork, done when I was 17, is of a nude, or a life drawing of alady. It was done at art college. The B(tec) national diploma in artand design at Alexandra Road, Swansea. I was awarded a pass withmerit. The life drawing is of a life model, with her back to us,pushing her arms forward, above her head, against a wall. It was donein charcoal. Her bum or posteria is very plump ! She's a thin, quitemuscley woman, fit and toned.}

_{Dennis,my best friend says the life drawings are my best pieces. Her back isturned away from us, you can’t see her face .She’s pushingagainst a wall, her arms as if bound by the wrists. It’s quite sadomasochistic!}

_{Thenext is a print, I did at Central Saint Martins College in London. Icalled it ‘Spanish Eyes’. It’s of a woman, lying on her side,looking at us, like a sexualised Madonna. It’s a red backgroundwith a blackand white figure. It’s a repeat print. Her lip colour contrasts;red, green, red, green. It’s very provocative but also ethnic, likea Rastafarian symbol. In fact, a Rastafarian girl wanted to swop itfor one of her prints at college. She liked it so much !}

_{Thenext picture is of a Venus, in front of a full silver moon. A foxbefore her, a deer to her right. A bluebird, emitting from her soul,representing her spirit. It’s a very dreamy, floaty type picture.With gases, and steam as if of earth seen from space. The woman,Venus, represents frail or feminine beauty. Divine being, sensitive,the woman as the world.}

_{Thenext is a print of a fish. Or rather a little fish protected by abigger fish..}

_{Jackqui,at Connect, called it the ‘Ying and Yang’ symbol. I rather it is,a Mother’s protection of an infant. It’s a wood block print, Idid in Connect. As I was doing it, the others there exclaimed ‘it’sgood, really good !’ Positive feedback on the spot meant it wasmorally good not just visually but what it represented, it’smessage- the love of a mother who puts her child first.}

_{Dennismy best friend wanted a print of it framed, then Gwyn, his upstairsneighbour. I gave one copy framed to the Orchard Centre. I managed tofind really good frames, that suited it, in Wilkinsons. Also Llanfairhouse, had a copy.}

_{Thenext picture is a funny one. It’s of me nude in the mirror. So it’sa self portrait of myself as a life model. It’s funny because Ilook ‘stumpy’ in it, odd, a little ‘dinky’. It came about,after watching a profile of a lady artist on TV. I thought ‘howcould I keep myself chaste ?’ So many sexy men out there, but Iwant to be something more than sexy- a little bit of fluff. I don’twant to sleep with them, but am tempted, so I’ll improve my moralpreserve. I’ll paint myself, the way they’d see me as if I hadslept with them and see what I’ve got !}

_{SoI did.}

_{AndI have to admit, I’ve not got the model’s body. The face isyoung, the body more like that of my Grandmothers.}

_{Butit is beautiful, in a worn down, naïve, human way. It is sympatheticto all those women who are imperfect, and find fault with theirlooks. As if ‘ugly’ is ‘beautiful’.}

_{Andthat’s why I like it. It is honest. And that adds gist to the moralfibre of my character, it edifies me, keeps me sane, keeps me strong!}

_{Nextare three ‘zany’ paintings I did, on leave from Cefn Coedpsychiatric hospital in 2008.Basically, I was so fed up with 3 malemembers of staff, I was so indignant with rage, at them and how I wastreated, I sketched with paint, straight onto the canvas theircharacters or how I saw them.}

_{Itwas like a Holler! It was like Holy Hell, but the paintings seemed towork. The revulsion and vile sentiments hit you, as you’re drawninto what on the surface seems pleasant and eye catching. Underneath,the impression is revulsion, and horror !}

_{Likebeing blasted with cold water in the chilling light of day, theseghouls appear to aid and abet you, kill or cure. The double edgedsword of the mental health professionals call of duty. There exists aparadox, a pivotal point at which ’you say, but you don’t say,you act but you don’t act’ It’s strange, I’m not trained inthe mental health profession, but I observe as an artist. A pivotalpoint of paradox.}

_{‘youdo but you don’t do’---}

_{‘doas I say not as I do’}

_{Thechaos and brutality, I felt on that ward is on canvas, for all tosee.}

_{‘Thismust never happen again’ a friendly nurse, later said.}

_{Thefinal piece is inspired by the colour ‘green’. Green as inrecycling, the Green movement, Greensleeves music. Goodness knowswhat !}

_{Iwasn’t trying to achieve anything in particular, but the overalleffect is what is important--like small things make a whole.}

_{So,come with me into the murky depths of pond life, aquatics andmermaids !}

_{Foetalmermaids, a lizard, seaweed, purple wool seaweed, fish, fish tails,hair and a crown of sweet wrappers. Crazy characters and adverts forgreen apples, prescription bags, a mint chocolate, a script formedicine.}

_{Isgreen medicinal ? Is it holistic ? Just an impression. The outerframe was found in a framing shop in Brynmill, Swansea. I saw it andfell in love with it.}

_{It’svery opulent, like a waltz at a ball, with chandeliers and drapedcurtains. It’s old fashioned but its so opulent. It’s so ‘la dada’, ‘yes darling’. ‘splendid darling’. It’s so pompous.}

_{Itmakes me feel good because it is so showy !}

_{Alittle Theatre, opening up the set to Act I of a famous play, rightthere on your wall. Like having a piece of Theatre on your wall. Aproduction. There’s ‘The Little Mermaid Theatre’ in London. Andthey did Theatre Studies at Central Saint Martins. The devils in thedetail, as they say.}

Like Diamonds.

You don't want to make an enemy of a family member, but you can't please all of them, all of the time ( no one can ) so be timid ?

Remember- your mother and father won't be around forever. If they pass on, whilst you have truck with them, you'll regret not making peace with them, while they were alive.

If you get caught up in things and you feel like the carpet is being pulled out under your feet, take a step backward, count to ten and chill out or relax. Do something you like doing. I put on an Abba CD.

Forever it seems, I have been telling social workers, my family consists of my Dad and three sisters.

(my mum died when I was 18) But in reality, I have two sets of uncles and aunties, six cousins, all who have countless children, all of whom I haven't been in contact with for over 20 years.

I haven't ignored them, or I haven't forgotten them, it's just we haven't been in contact.

So, stalemate, you could say. And yes, it makes me mad ! It makes me so mad, I could jump up and down with rage, and get quite gloomy and despondent.

But things do change, in wider reality – the INTERNET and freedom of information, comic relief from Kibera, Kenya. Same sex couples allowed to marry and have kids – no longer taboo, no longer in the shadows.

With this in mind, a simple letter from a long lost relative doesn't seem like like such a big or bad thing.

Remember, your family are really the people you choose to be your family, be it birth mother or adoptive mother. Those who you can trust, who bring out the best in you, and give you confidence.

Those people who are your friends, and those who mold your life in a good way; like a role model or mentor. Who put their life up for looking after and caring others. Who teach you how to cope with life and life's lessons. Those rare people are like diamonds.

3/11/10


A baby seagull, stranded,
Squawks for it's mother....
Little bubbles of dissatisfaction,
Rising to the surface.

Parallel universes collide,

Wonder if anyone would
like to hear from me ?

Wonder ?

Maybe not.



A woman in a services

uniform from the RAF, wrens,
coloured faun, from the 1940's

Stands as an epitaph,
to a generation, lost-
Like a disabled scarecrow,
Not fending off the birds-
Who eat all the corn.

21/9/10

mmmm, don't really know what to say, off the top of my head. Most of my blog, comes from a journal or diaries, but I'll give it a go, I like a challenge. well most of Summer was a wash out, and now that its September, i really should go down, margam park to paint those lovely Autumn colours. russet reds, golden and sienna leaves and copper forests

Autumns the time of year, we notice our native wildlife, more succinctly. how they survive the coming winter months. Foraging for food, and storing it up when food is scarce.
Autumn also is the beginning of new term for thousands of students around the world.
i remember the feel of the cold, trudging down London streets, when i was a student.
I remember how it bit you, and going into department stores, just to get some warmth.

I remember it too, as it is my siters and friends birthdays, those librans, scorpios and sagitarians amongst us. i remember my mums black court shoes clomping through carpets of fallen leaves on the pavement and me a gaggly 15 year old rushing to keep up with her.
Her raven beauty and intense way she looked at you, all too soon used up and washed away.

but the new generation are coming through. my sisters children, are all growing up, beating their hands on hearts as if to say 'its me, i'm here, welcome me !' and 42 years has just flown by and life goes on.

green painting explained

I am the perenial student of art. My training and vocation, is art. I like the callback to the tradional art of draughtmanship, line and form. I have used five components in the formula for this green painting. I find the painting soporific, in that it draws out the pain in you. Also, it has health giving, healing properties. but also it is like an aquarium or a busy river bed. the five components are;
1)the background underwater.
2) the mermaids and lizard, made of pearl barley, and roses chocolate wrappers, one xmas 2006.
3)the advertisements for produce, all in the colour green, mostly bought from spar in uplands.
These were done to frame the first two (underater scene with fish and mermaids.)
4) next came the woollen, knitted seaweed and fish. i bought the wool from sewers world, swansea in 2004. Its a purple twill with pink bits, i also used other colours, knitted in objectionally.
5) and finally the frame, to draw it all in. I paid £42 to have it framed.I had it done in gallery 28 in brynmill/uplands/swansea.

All in all the piece took me five years to complete. Its something I treasure, and if I were to sell it, it would not be at less than £300.

green painting

weds, 14/4/10.

Don't feel well, concerned, worried; ghosts from the past, haunt me. 'ghosts' in the form of men, who I have slept with, in a former self, who show up in everyday life, at the supermarket, Dr's anywhere. Make me feel, nervous, where do I know this man from ? Can't place him. Memory is difficult, memories of past forays; into the drugworld. A needle in the arm, clean or dirty ? Have I got aids, hepatitis ? Are they (the dr's) telling me the truth ?

Ten years now since last experience in bad company.,
Opening myself up to the world like an upside down umbrella,
Catching money like raindrops.

Dealt with myself so brutally; a turkey on display- a roast chicken in a plate of vegetables- for consumption.
Why ? Anger ? Revenge ? Daring ? a travesty ?

Feeling as sorry as a wet soggy blanket, thinking about such hefty work, makes me want to go into outer space.

Cry; tears of sorrow, of waste, of pain. won't bring my life back, when I made a wrong decision, at the crossroads.

Watching 'midsumer murders' on TV, makes me think how vulnerable I am; how to avoid harm, that it goes on at all worries me.

All I can say from past experience is - its a mystery, and finding yourself in life is like waking up to sunshine,
opening a new door,
solving the mystery and finally there comes peace.

Don't give everything away in one go, it's not all or nothing, save something of self, for yourself, be discerning, tempered, fair (enfranchisement).

'Cuddle therapy' an idea.

Where one person who is hurting, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, is held all night long by another, who is big and strong. Similar to the laying on of hands (healing hands )- someone strong- holding you all night long !-----' until the fear in me subsides'.

Sometime last year....

The dark knight.


I'm still a human being.

It can happen to anyone of us,
Anyone can fall,
Anyone can hurt the one they love,
Cos I made a stupid mistake.

Maybe move away ?

I did'nt know what I was doing-
Not in control.
He without sin, cast the first stone,
Don't judge me.

If its on offer-they'll take it,
Like a supermarkets best buys.
They won't think about the implications;
And consequences to the human being,
They'll just see 'bargain bucket'
Their eyes flashing pound signs,
In pure lust.

But those things have made me the person, I am today.
Maybe I should go live in a monastery,
With a group of monks !

You can hurt/be hurt yourself sexually,
You can be sexually disabled.
Its horrid being used like this,
In innocense, in ignorance,
Not knowing why you're doing it,
open hearted, blind to the truth.


Sat night 20/21st March.


An ideal to aspire to.

I had a notion-that if I gave up smoking, put on a stone or two,cared for myself, kept up my appearance, wore nails, did my hair and make up, wore stylish clothes and heels and handbags-like those ladies in the pub on a night out- they were big but stylish, a group of girlfriends. If I trained for a job, gave up all this, left it behind, the art etc and worked in a normal job, as a banker ?

A female centred job.
Hair as sleek as silk-blond
and straightened and glossy and shine
And laughing all the time,
Not attracting the kind of male who loves and leaves-- one night stands, abusive males.
Only those who wanted cuddles and holding hands. Not sex but love, cuddly, comforting,caring.

'She' would'nt attract the men who wanted sex, money or drugs,
But homely, put your arms around you, old fashioned/safe love,/laughing, fun, and lovely; lovely love !
Could I be two people ? ?


Another time...

I feel beat about the head with a large, stick !

Observation;
1) Have you noticed how many cars in Swansea need a good clean and have'nt been to the
carwash ?

2) I don't know whether to run a mile and go jogging or sleep for a week !



14/02/10


Always trying to please everyone-Fit someone else's ID or idea of identity
Is that why you smoke then , to be different ?
Or is it an affectation; for lolly or because you're rich; posh spice. affected spice;
rich spice, a walnut and rum raison cake- A fruit cake, A tart, A fruity tart, a nutty cake; rich and stodgy- stuck up and stuffy .


Lists of things to do ; Tuesday 30/03/10

1) My prolactin levels are too high, so I have to see my cpn, Diane to sort it out.

2) Drs, gp's, next thursday at 11am.

3) Green painting

4) Tegs parcel post 2 tops for her.

5) buy a frame for Denis, for the life drawind I did when I was young and at art school.

6) dye hair- bought a dark blond haur dye, hate dying my hair.

7) connect visit to knit fish for green painting.

Watched tv last night low calorie recipes;

1) jacket potato, cheese beans and salad.
2) noodles with broccoli, onion, soya sauce.

Buy book from tv series 'grow your own drugs' esp for watercress recipe, can be grown at home in pebbles with mineral water in window. Abundance of vitamin c.

Digestive biscuits are low in fat.

Have to go to dentist, and holiday to Dawlish, enquire about.


Just a few more things;

1) My heart beats very fast at night just before I go to sleep. Don't know if its my tablets ?

2) Carol said Lee was a very inquisitive bright little boy. And if my ex were ever around him, and acted in a violent manner, Lee would become withdrawn and frightened. So I'm glad he was adopted.

3)What I thought were foibles are now OCD or obsesive compulsive disorder. If someone asked me to find a reason for something, I'd find three. Believing things come in three's. Plus other traits, I can't remember now.

4) Its the election soon in Uk and to sum up, I believe life under a conservative government was all work, work , work ! While under a labour government it was all rest , rest , rest !

Somewhere in between would be a good idea !
Maybe a hung parliament would not be such a bad thing.

Its not alright, that you see others,

And that I am unhappy-

like my mother was.

I don't want to put on a face.

Or made a mockery of, in public.

You lose yourself-

But in private, you cry those tears.

You are a friend, a teacher, a lover.

To whom i tell all my secrets.

But something seems to go wrong,

When i'm stuck in the house,

and you're out on the town.

I had a break, you see,

You're too much,all at

Once for me.You want to go in,

all lights charging, saying is there a problem,

Is there a crisis /

I just want peace for a while,

We're opposites, you like walking, fidgeting

And doing things.

i like to sit, eat and relax, get my composure, a second,

I don't know if you make it better or worse

You never eat and you don't relax.

Now you're telling me that opposites attract.

But to play the part for one girl-

is to play the part for them all.

You may say ' I look thinner'

But pride comes before a fall.

-------------------------------------------

But, you who are 'well,' are a part of the ratrace, which causes mental illness, a natural state to be in, when one is sick of society; when you view society as a whole as demented. If you were'nt mentally ill, there'd be something wrong.

Also, for care workers and nurses.

You can be going along with that person, putting all you've got into them, and it can backfire- because that person flips.One minute, they can be happy, but when they get tired or stressed, they can do something unexpected. Even the most predictable people have their off days ! Those raging moods like the clouds, in a tempest !

Snap, crackle and pop !

Snap, crackle and pop !
A young man spits out,
Like a toad on the road,
Right in front of my friend and I.





He is young, homeless and

undoubtedly on drugs.

The look in his eye,

As if he's seen a ghost!



I take it personally,

and lash out verbally at my friend,

When we get home.





The young man reminds me of a town,

That is deserted, that doesent care.

Helplessly, I wish there was someone,

To intervene.



To stop violent and disorderly behaviour--

But he just walks away [normal ? its expected]



My ex was homeless--the father of my child.

I don't see him anymore,

But he's still around--putting me down, [real or imagined]

Rumours spread like wildfire in this town.



And I cry to my current partner

Although he wears a frown.

I cling for fear of being driven down the river,

And washed out to sea,

Until I drown.







It was 1990, I was in Leeds, visiting my sisters, Sue and Ann.

All day, talk of going out to a nightclub-- in town, an industrial warehouse, a factory for music, famous in the city.



But we did'nt go, Sues boyfriend said there was a party in a friends house. We went and the boys played heavy metal all night long. Thrash metal, turned up loud.



I got tired by 12, and by 2am, I was lying on the floor of the storeroom, shutting it all out.





Paris; I stood outside of the busy restaurant, and peered in. There was a live band playing, and people dining out'



I stared, but I did not go in. It was raining.





Sarahs, sister is so talented. In her shiny lime coloured shoes, sparkly jeans and diamante jacket, she looks so effavescent.

Working in fashion industry-she went to Indonesia, last time I heard.



Shes as different from Sarah, as the SW is to the SE, but shes certainly trying, and I think she polishes up as bright as a button.



Shes also perserving, and idealistic. She knows how to communicate, and can enthuse a crowd,

With her signature designs, looks and personality, I'm sure she'll go far.



Maybe a future, CoCo Chanel or Zandra Rhodes, in the making

22/08/09.

Today, Dennis and I were in Llanfair House, Mumbles, swansea.
We have come for a break. The weather was changable today, we spent most of the day, indoors.
Tomorrow is sunday, so we can rest after a big roast lunch !
There is a cat here, called Lucky, a blue budgie, and an aquarium, full of tropical fish !

The people here are very approachable, many different people all relaxing, or on respite !

6/8/09

People going everywhere,
Doing their own thing.
Some happy, some sad.
Business people,
Parents with children,
All fitting in.

I hate my body,
Squeeze spots of pus.
The reflection in the mirror,
Tells me, I am a wuss.

A wuzz for not fitting in,
A wuss for hiding the shame.
I'm disabled, and different,
I don't fit into the game.

If had a farthing, for
every little shame,
I'd be a millionaire-
like on celebrity whats it name.

But I've no job, no self respect, no farthing.
My wage is the welfare system,
the Giro, my darling.

I might as well be labelled inferior
And gassed in Hitlers cleansing programme.
I cry when I sing this song, my eyes,
Water, as if I knew all along.
I'll never be the one to meet the grade--
I'm too pushy, too weak, too lame.

All along I sat on the back burner, the fence.
Far too long, i've been given recompense,
For a disease of the mind,
A disease, i think of as normal,
When hungry minds salivate,
They salivate over Jorden

19/7/09

Shes like a lioness with cubs,
fearless and bold.
Hunting her prey,
With the stealth of a Timex watch.

As natural as spa water,
As refreshing as the fiercest forests,
Courageous as orchids, snowbells and,
crocus in spring.

Life comes to test you,
to draw you back in.


The rose early morning dew on petals,
smells so pure.
A sweet incandescent scent to all.
the tides may come and go til dawn.
all is a midsummer garden,
Alive and full.

Shes the knight in shining armour,
conquest is her battalion,
ahead of her game.
jousting her opponent
riding for victory.

Where the high mountain ranges,
meet the clouds from above,
lift off and let go.
above space-
below earth,
you follow the curvature
of the stars, the moon.

Before disappering,
into a supernova-
a shooting star.

.But I'm sick of seeing, sad women, who are stuck and hate themselves. There must be a way out for them God, if you're listening, show the world that these women are't inferior. Give them hope, joy, a new outlook on life. don't let them down.They have lived, they have dignity, they have talents to share, 'why aren't you looking after them ? Why don't you care for age ?'.

The woman is your perogative now. She sees denial in the face of the young, the young girls so eager to give their innocence, beauty and time and worth to men who treat them disrespectively and leave them empty ghosts.

Theres women who help themselves, work in supermarkets, offices and courts. They are able to fend for themselves. Only the strong shall survive; the motto goes. They look after no 1. They are the cogs that drive the machine, the backbone, the bullion.

Young women, may feel attractive and smart quick and clever but their bodies show no mercy. They like watching TV commercials, for beauty products. They're used to make you feel inferior and have no soul. What you see is what you get wit them
They're like walking mannequins.

So deadly, they control through beauty, the power, the status. They made the most of themselves in a langusge that the media knows; they're cool.


So where is the line of distinction between the woman of sorrow and the woman of gladness? I see the two sides, and all inbetween, kindness is just a weakness to be exploited, and liberty ; to take action or work a commodity.

Women don't see each other as a whole. A team or players in a game of sport, jostling about.
they don't play the games men do, they're far from home or what men call civilization. As men treat each other with 'brotherly love' commeradeship or partners in a game where women can only compete on a sexual basis.

Women are'nt the centre of mens universes, men are and women can come close to that centre, that world, if the're strong enough or intelligent enough or resilient enough, but even then women have made little impact on men as a whole. By men I mean mankind, man's territory, history.and truth or worth, pride.

I, myself am mute. I've seen life, played the game, lost it, and I'm a sponge; soaking up all the hardluck stories I come across.
I'm stuck without a voice, I want to speak out against the injustices, but I'm afraid of rocking the boat. I don't know where to start, I can only comment.

Chattle and feminists, who draws the line ? Can you really see the differance ? I've been both so where is the middleground ?
Maybe shes there but knowone can see her., a reflection, a mirage, a mummy, a tomb. She the one that knows you best, like your friend, pop idil, role model, teacher, Doctor, solicitor or Queen. Shes supreme and shes loved by all her generations.

So women, don't let yourselves down and be supreme, because your not cast-offs, you're needed by women like me !

8/7/09

The flower of a British womans garden, the gladioli, in bloom, in Summer has more dominion on earth than me.At least its outside.
I saw a woman today, who reminded me of my mother, and another who reminded me of my Grandmother. my mother had brown curly hair, small and petite, her face so sad. She wasn't ugly, far from it, but her soul was.
the pain, the bitterness, the rejection was illuminated in her face.
and as our eyes met. a long pool of blue sorrow, I averted my gaze, i did't want to see, her loss, her defeat, her lonliness.

my Grandmother was blond, she walked on heels, with stooped shoulders, blindly, bumping into passers-by, saying 'watch out punk or I'll kick you in'.
she'd seen life, been beaten and was into physical violence. her weapon of defence.

I saw there two women, as I carried the bags og shopping out of the supermarket. I could have been carrying their souls home. i felt so vulnerable, or my gain, their loss.

23/5/09


Sometimes, get angry with my boyfriend. I get irritated or narky. I love him dearly, but i wish, he was more in touch with his feminine side !!
sorry, for speaking my mind, in the previous blog. To alienate nurses and Doctors, is not what I'm about.
often you don't you don't know how lucky you are.when i was younger i had it all, now i have what i need. the last thing i want to do is to bite the hand that feeds me, i see the error of my ways.

I don't want someone there all the time, if you keep on pushing me outside of the home, I'll be your number 1 patient, first prise in the mental health show !

sometimes, I think they just like seeing you squirm [the community mental healt team]

either that or they enjoy taking the piss out of you.

They really don't know the aggro, anxiety and fear they cause; the worry.

They seem to be fairly platonic and neutral, but they are not specifying their care or role; they sit on the fence, whilst wielding a big dose of authority.

I feel helter skelter, I feel going underground or forgetful, I don't know where my boundaries are, I don't know where to draw the line.

I can only hope, they know what they're doing. sometimes occasionally things go wrong. Somethings were'nt planned or happen out of the blue.

But always you are centrestage,

an actress in a sea of dreams.

An anecdote.

I get dreams, like the ones, I've written about, in my diary and now, I've seen them on TV, like a premonition.

As faor the Mental health team, the ones you put your faith in, might be the undoing of you, how do you know they're the experts ? who knows you better than you know yourself ?

Also, living in a housing associtation flat , you don't feel at home, its like everyone owns your home and everything in it, is'n yours.you don't feel comfortable, at home, peace. you don't take pride in your home, like cleaning, maintainace and living. its not private enough.

your independence is not someone elses ticket to take advantage of you. --if you were my relative, i'd be concerned

23/4/09

Today, plenty of things happened,
Like cooking a cabbage, leaf after
leaf comes unfolded in your fingers.

Time after time.

\in me, I feel hurt, but I know,
I'm not the person, they're hurting,
Just a mirage, an image.

Deep inside, I know my own mind;
I've made it through,
I've left it behind.

So when they taunt with words so
Cutting and unkind-
I say to myself-
You too, could have been blind !
Blind to the excesses, the sleaze, the junk-

Always in a muddle,
Not knowing where to debunk.

and if You'll live to tell,
And know your own mind,
I'd say to you,
fayre thee well
Always be kind !

23/4/09

today, plenty of things happened,

like cooking a cabbage;

leaf after leaf,

comes unfolded,

in your fingers.

time after time.

In me, I feel hurt.

but I know I'm not the person

 static, is her womb.

9/4/09


Douglas is a pain.
Been for a pint--
he says,

Mind boggles at the truth!

David does my head in !
He steals and overwhelms!

Jack is a true troubadour!

I'm putting on a brave face!
Today was difficult.

Did'nt go out,
So stuck with the memories
Of yesterday-
Like a film replaying itself,
I'm stuck on rewind/rut.
When I want action/cut !


12/4/09


pardon the pun!
Theres a hole in your plum !
Early to rise
Make mine a feast of bird pies!

Where I can touch the skies,
for one of your lies!
And feel happy again;
A Brubeck reprise!!!

16/4/09


A good nurse, like Amy, will buy you sanitary towels!
She'll always endeavour to put you first, even at her own detriment.
She'll laugh and lift you out of your depression.
She'll turn every stone over, until there are no skeletons left in your closet !

A good nurse? Maybe she'll or he'll be like Denis;
Calm in the storm, golden honey in a desert.
Quick to help, slow to temper.

He'll always have patience, for that his virtue in care may be realised and established.


I admire the nurse who does all this.
In my heart , I know he's informative / a friend,
In my eyes I can see him perservering,
and recovery for his clents, is regenerative.
In my mind I know recovery is his purpose.


To all good men and women, the skies the limit !

I admire the nurse who does all this, so that I may sleep easier,
have less rows with my family and be at peace or a place of safety.

With all the adversity, I say thankyou
So that there maybe hope,
And faith, hope and charity
are clearly our purpose!

With all the sadness comes spring-

Out of the strong came sweetness.



And what I really want is the love of a good man.
A man like my psychiatrist.

A celebrity male on TV
Lives life for the cameras-
is he in love with his own image.
Can I make the grade ?

The first time ever I saw your face,
Yourself is an ocean
Cleansing deep into your soul !

I still havent found what I'm looking for

The fundamental reason
in this poem, has been overlooked.

15th of April, 2009.

Todays weather is rain!

Feeling shaky, tired, heavy!

gilledwards

4/4/09





Lamb chop boiled stew.


Trip to Germany-Nena-singer.


Wiesbaden when 15.





Onions,cabbage, potatoes and lamb chops--all boiled into a stew.


Southern Germany-Wiesbaden, glass factory. First time I recognise myself, my purpose.

An affinity with the German girl of the family whose home we stayed at. Bought the German magazine like our Smash Hits come Jackie.



Bratwurst sausages, Dad cooked, in a casserole, fresh from the supermarket.

We walked beyond the village,through fields of golden corn and arrived at a farm house. saw a pen of big rabbits. There was a German farmer and his wife. I managed to talk with them, as I was learning German in school.



The farmer and his wife were welcoming, warm and special.

Dad drove the car along the Rhein river. I'd heard that sirens lured unsuspecting sailors to their end along the rocks. I knew a few modern day ones like Nena Hager and Nena who had a big hit with 99 red balloons !

Mum had to replace the coffee jug as theirs accidently got broken. Frankfurt airport was modern. The exchange family was staying in our house in the Mumbles, Swansea.
Mum bought me Kim Wildes album,'Water on glass' whilst there.

I had a great feeling, as I was not quite grown up and not quite teenager, I was somewhere in the middle and it made me feel great; as if on the point of liberation, like when the Berlin wall came down !