Welcome to the last year of this textual/visual diary. Exploring words, spaces and aesthetics. 

expecting. worrying. doubting. ¦ personal

expecting. worrying. doubting. ¦ personal

There are times that I question myself  

do I really want to do this?

I wonder if it is worth it to hear the heartache in my family’s voice every time I speak to them over the phone, as my mum whispers in a sad tone “if this is what you love then do it. It’s the gift God has given you”  And as my dad sways between “get a job” and “stay positive sweetheart, something will turn up. I believe in you and I am here for you”

And my baby sister balances in between seeing me as both her inspiration and an idiot – as she doesn’t fully understand why I am not employed yet.

Week in and week out, the positivity seems to come and go, with more ups and downs than a rollercoaster ride…no paycheck coming my way. Handing out freebies because in some way I have accepted that is all I will ever be good for – and my talent is now my worst enemy but yet again the only close friend I have when the seas get rough.

The way I see it, I will not get approval for what I do. Not until I cash a ridiculous cheque and show it to the world, it seems I will not get approval. But the truth is I am wondering whether I want the paycheck or the happiness…and it is a battle I fight every day because society makes it seem like I can only have one at a time when I badly want both.

Maybe I am fool. That’s putting it lightly, because what I really mean is that

maybe I'm a fucking idiot

. I don’t know what I think or how I feel, is this worth it, was it wrong, or whether  I am actually good at this. Many a time I have thought about putting my camera down for good, I went through summer not even wanting to look at it because as it stands it’s the one tool that signifies both my successes and failures.  It now stays hidden in my cupboard and away from sight because the sight of it makes me sore.

I sit here filling out job applications, every morning while a little bird on my shoulder tells me that I am

nowhere

 near good enough, not even to work in a callcentre. But still I fill out the forms, for every 25 applications it’s 25 rejections but only 1 civil enough to tell me I didn't make the post. Any way and any how I look forward to my next shoot, so I can work with other talented people  and make something beautiful out of all the negativity I sift through daily, because I have to accept that I will not gain approval from society... or maybe even you. 

But, the moment I deny myself approval for what I do and my passion - it is then tat I have truly failed. So I fight, and will continue to do so.

goldengrove

fall