Cellar Door

I recently updated my website which has caused my blog posts to go completely skee-whiff, so apologies for the hideousness of how this section looks. I’m trying to figure out how to fix the layout and get everything back in order. The images and text just don’t seem to want to co-exist on the blog posts at the moment. Agh! In an attempt to avoid a similar thing happening on this blog entry, I’m going to attach images to the very bottom of the page; so feel free to scroll down if you don’t want to read the ramblings that are about to follow.

I moved house about a month ago, which was a very long time coming. I’ve felt like things have kinda been in limbo for me since March which was when I originally wanted to have moved by. The stress of wanting things to be finalised took its toll more than I realised – as you will soon see. I haven’t been able to book in dates for shoots with new people because I didn’t want to let them down. My focus was on finding my new place and settling in, and like all of the relocations I’ve made in the last four years, everything sort of fell into place rather suddenly and last minute!

It is quite annoying how predictable I am under stress, even when the stress doesn’t affect my happiness, old habits still die hard. I shot some self-portraits yesterday and this evening and I was a bit taken aback by the results, or rather, the things that were obvious in them. I was even considering editing them out as I have done in the past but I thought I’d leave them in this time. Mostly because whilst I consider them ‘ugly’ and the illness behind my bald patches to be really ugly, I think the images themselves are quite pretty with them intact. Photographing myself is a kind of chronological documentation of my life at times too, and maybe this should be an honest event. If I’m going to be completely honest though, it does really bother me that despite everything in my life going incredibly well, I still feel the need to self-harm myself in this way. And I really have no idea what the root of it is. Maybe it is just simple anxiety.

When I get stressed or anxious or angry or overly happy, I literally pull my hair out. I also do lots of others things too, but this is the only action that’s visible on the outside. It is what it is. And it’s why I need to keep my head shaved, because the urge to do it just doesn’t seem to abate regardless of my state of mind. I can’t really express in words just how frustrating it is not understanding what goes on in my head when I do this. It seems to me that happiness and anxiety co-exist. Bah.

(Shot on the current Spectra B&W film from Impossible).

More of my new self-portrait work can be viewed here –


About elegia

I like cats and cake and tea.

Leave a Reply