Feeling a little "blue" ?

Today I felt a little better so I decided to post a photo of my latest artwork 
It was inspired by Picasso's "blue period" which occurred after his best friend, Casagemas, drunkenly shot himself in a bar in front of Picasso and other friends, because of - have you guessed it? - unrequited love...

Yeah

Poor old Casagemas 

So I was inspired by that to show the emotion of the aftermath of my Mum dying in my art with Picasso's idea of course

Here we go

I sketched first then used watercolour pencils and paints and went over the pencil with water

Hope you like it. This is what I was inspired by:

The leaves are beginning to die...

Hello again,
Well...it has been a while folks

[I must warn you this is a very dark and deep post. Take this seriously. Only read unless you are mentally prepared to read it]

I feel like this little lonely leaf

There have been changes too, including the progression in the seasons to one of my favourites: Autumn. I feel I can't really enjoy it though, but for note purposes and any of you that are interested, my favourite month to be exact is October. Possibly because its when the temperature here (Glasgow) Is just right for me, that sort of damp, cool, light rain, and the colourful yet dying leaves all around us. And the smell; warm, fragrant for some reason. Also, Halloween, my favourite and now only holiday I celebrate. I used to believe it was a season of changes, physical and mental, of shedding one's theoretical skin and renewal of self. Hm. I can't quite view it this way with Death Spectacles on. Hm. It's not been fun...

This blog feels very close to my inner self. I suppose it's a creator thing and being proud of your work but I'm sure it's more. I feel I can reveal all my feelings when others in the big bad world would find them somewhat distasteful. Well I punch distasteful in the face. Hard. With knuckledusters. Till it keels over. Bloody and disorientated...
Yeah, something like that.
I'm not afraid to be afraid here. Which is good. Possibly one of my few outlets.



The last time I wrote a proper post, excluding the mini post about Baby Emma, was during the summer holidays. Hm. They did not turn out how I'd planned. I guess I should have learned from Heath Ledger's Joker "Plans always go wrong" motto. The good ole' in-laws became so damn fucking awkward I was limited to a handful of visits. Which also usually involved some kind of pay-off with work or something. Fuck off.
So that went shit. I've really had enough of that now. Their behaviour is really well passed getting on my tits...Besides, all this fake-ass polite shit. Why bother? Seriously. No skin off my back

And life is just getting on top of me. Summer was a fail. I did nothing of significance. I will remember it only for it being THEE shitest summer OF MY LIFE. Sweet sixteen my ass! Suck my oversized dick, age cliche!!! I got my exam results. Meh. Average. Intermediate Twos. 4 A's, 2 B's, 2 C's. Some I'm appealing but it doesn't look hopeful. Whatever.

I just feel worse than before. Worse than the real bad stuff. But no one knows about it this time. And there's no one to help me. And I feel like every time I do try to hint at it or say something, the words dry up into sand and I can't say a word about it. I can't scream anymore. And I damn well can't shout either. This doesn't feel like me anymore. I'm missing this serious part of me, that sounds so cliche but my Mum was my world. I've always been very close with my friends all my life, friends in general but she was my first ever best friend, my friend that stayed with me always no matter what happened. And there's so much I never got to say to her and vice versa. I can't cook shit. She was going to teach me these things and that burns a hole in my personality. Or at least, that is what it feels like inside.

I think I'm slowly withering away along with her. I have been trying soo hard to keep everything together but it still feels temporary..like she's coming back. That I'll turn around in the kitchen and she'll be coming back in from Sainsbury's (food shop) with all the heavy bags in two hands of course, because no obstacle kept her down. I can even hear the rustling just thinking about it. And Her calling that she's back. Or I'll wake up one random Saturday after a long lie, it's in the afternoon, and she's bringing me cheese sandwiches and a white iced doughnut and telling me to wake up gently, and eat my food, Angel. I really have a problem. I can't admit when something's over and I know this is all over now. But I don't want it to be. And my subconscious is making it not real. And I'm letting it.

I'm terribly lonely. I told her everything all the secrets and just...everything. Even just chit-chat. Her laughing. I have no one to talk to. And sure, people, friends etc. they all offer support and time to chat. But it's far from the same. No one just understands. No one knows me like she did. No one can fix things like she did. Or smell like she did. Or laugh like she did. And most certainly, no one can hug like she did.

No one cares. I mean they do but they also don't in a way. One word mentioned from me of anything remotely related to my Mum and they all look like this:

And it's really beginning to get on my nerves....
*yes I love futurama, another post some time*
So I stop mentioning her in front of them. And I bottle it up. It stays there, festering and biting and tearing away at me. Till no matter what is coming out my mouth, or how my face is expressed or how silent I am, how happy I seem...My soul is screaming inside.

And I want to talk about her. And I want to cry more about it. And I want to talk to her at the grave, out loud. And I want to curl up and forget about homework and the in-laws and all my friends and all the drama and just fall apart. But no one will let me. I can't cut no more. They think bad of it. No matter how many times I cry or something this stress just isn't going away. Nothing's working.

While I'm like this, I'm teaching others you're never alone. But right now, I really am.
And no one will let me break apart and just blow away in the dust. I'm not strong anymore. I think I lost that a few cries ago. I can't break down. Because clothes need to be washed. And they need to be ironed and folded. And dinner has to be made. Phones have to be answered, homework has to be completed, subjects need to be studied, Art folios need to be handed in, English essays redrafted, school ties tied, hair needs to be washed, Jokes need to be laughed at, friends need to be smiled at, sufficient sleep needs to be attained. Six o' clock the alarm clock goes off and by seven, I'm definately up. I need to get dressed, I need to get together and leave. Get the bus. Act cheery. Perhaps I'm choosing the wrong career path. I could act quite convincingly.

I need to smile for these people and put on a good show. Laugh too loud and look happy. Like my life isn't torn apart. Like I don't wish it was me that died in her place. Like I don't want to just lie down in the middle of the road and never ever get up. I'm like this Autumn leave, just rotting away and people walk passed, not noticing or not caring.

Maybe by next Autumn, things will look up. I miss you terribly, my Angel.
I wish you never had to leave me
xxx

Goodbye folks and this was just a release. Don't worry about me too much. I'm still alive aren't I.
Bye x