I guess this is the place where it all started, in Youghal, Ireland. This is where my mum grew up and spent most of her young life, and its still the family home today which houses my auntie and her two dogs.

I’ve been my most creative here.

I’ve been my most vulnerable here.

I’ve been my most happy here.

A wall in my bedroom. my bedroom. One of the few places where I feel creative and able to see things clearly.

This photograph was taken the evening my dad left the house, sometime in January of last year. It was a monumental occurrence that effected all lives involved in his movement, but mostly for the better rather than the worst. It relived the stress from all of us.

This Photograph was taken during one of my stays at the Jersey General Hospital in 2016, when I was the sickest I’d ever been. For this particular stay, I spent 2 months on bed rest, with the only view I had being out of one single window, overlooking the outskirts of town and out to the sea. During the start of my illness, I was convinced that there was nothing wrong with me, and because I thought there was nothing wrong, I didn’t see any point in getting better and committing to recovery. But deep down I knew there was a serious issue I had to face and acknowledge in order to keep living.

It was hard being cooped up in a hospital where real life was only occurring everywhere besides in the hospital. So I tried to find comfort and happiness in the little things I had access to; like the view out my window. It was the only thing that was close to real life that I could lose myself in.

my family had eyes but could not see the sickness which was controlling me. at the end of the day I knew I needed help but I was too deep in my own shit to be able to catch a breath and acknowledge how sick I was.

rolling my eyes because sometimes things change too quickly for my head to keep up with. Why can’t things slow down a bit. I know time is just a concept, but we are ruled by it with such vengeance.

I always seem to feel little fireflies buzzing round in my head. one evening it got too much and they started to emerge out of my eyes in an orderly fashion.

Hospital x2. same meaning different angle. featuring Stanley the rabbit who’s been with me since 24th September 2001.

A tree in the back yard in my family home in Ireland. Has always been there ever since I was a baby, but probably not for much longer as things tend to change.

A more practical approach to letting negative things go… try breathing them out. It doesn’t really work but its worth a go.

A second photograph taken on the night my dad left, except at a different angle.

A self portrait in my room. where everything that I need is there right in front of me.