The future:

Open House London approaching, trying to organise some architecture appreciation in between tattoo work and cemetery gardening. Catching up on university work, World Archaeology waits for no man, and I have an essay to hand in and no time, my distraction having a full camera of shots to delight over. The ideas for my website, I need to get working once time permits, but the tattoo convention looms and a shoot with the beauty that is Roz :D Less than two weeks until I change job roles, a move up; nerves and excitement prevail.

The present (technically the immediate past...):

Scotland: So many images, so much love for my family, a place I adore and each photo shoot fast becoming my favourite to date; my current excitement for Lisa, Waken The Dead. Fun as hell to work with, great artistic vision and a thoroughly lovely lass.

Metallica: Death Magnetic launch show, freaking awesome! Great company, beautiful boat ride to and from the venue, too late to bed on a school night, bumping into people I haven't seen in an age, Andy Life at 45, a dude from the next camp at Download (James???), and some old faves: Martin, Sheryl, Sam, Malius, Eamon. Simply great fun.

The past:

"So you run down to the safety of the town.
But there's panic on the streets of Carlisle, Dublin, Dundee, Humberside.
I wonder to myself"

It makes me laugh and smile now. During my childhood we could never mention anything exciting; birthdays, holidays, Christmas, all events hidden and pushed underground until the actual day, as I worked myself up until I was sick. It's just leads me to wonder, I wonder... As far back as then? A discovery of my school report from a term during fourth year sheds more light onto my teenage years; 20 half days missed, and it jogs my memory, thinking back to the questions. Was I being bullied? Why didn't I want to go to school? But it wasn't school I couldn't face, my stomach somersaulting, left halfway somewhere, partially absent, like driving over a humpbacked bridge too fast. I felt it each and every single day, peppermint medicine drunk, I'd grab my bag and leave, I'd make it to my destination as soon as I was settled.

The jigsaw pieces before I had the picture. The realisation hitting much later, as I'd find myself making excuses, excuses so I could just stay in my house, too much adrenaline pumping, nervous paranoia rising, rushing to the nearest bathroom, 'staff use only', fear of embarrassment, whatever, I was there. I couldn't be away from it, I'd cling to the familiar, the routine, rushing between locations, the avoidance of crowds. Waiting. Waiting became my enemy; waiting for a film to start, waiting for a band to take the stage, waiting for a staff meeting to be over, thoughts rising, nothing to focus on but my own physical state, feeling I am dripping in sweat, feeling everyone can see me, is watching me, seeing the mess I feel on the inside. A prisoner in my own body, my love's lack of understanding, the fear of asking for help and admitting defeat. Panic cost me dear in my past. Having a nervous breakdown? It's possibly the best thing I ever did.