Wet twigs snapped under my feet. Birds flew away. I've felt the urge to venture in to new territory with my photography too, entering a darker realm of mind that is frequented by ghosts and demons. I wanted to take some photos that were synonymous of how I was feeling, as a way to express it and also as some kind of comfort. A kind of pathetic fallacy.
I've been undergoing a difficult period - I like how some say of transformation - and I've been fighting with my demons. On my bad days I completely forget what it's like to have a good one: I am overwhelmed with sleep, malaise, waves of nausea. But the worst is the anxiety and the panic at not being able to escape it. When I am able, I keep busy. Helping people and making things are good kinds of therapy because it gives me purpose and strength. Here I am making a homemade potpourri using fir cones I collected, also using cinnamon oil, pine needles and cloves. I'm surrounded by trees, I'm never alone. With a little time and love they will bloom in pomp and splendour again: little creatures will come and live there, even flowers might bloom!
I keep coming back to my Haunted Girl pinterest board for inspiration... consolation? Maybe my pictures are like poetry in that they might speak better than my words. "I thought I heard your voice in the thunder... it's the owl casting spells that we're under" - Vanessa Carlton