There is no first, or everything is a first. Life is one first after the other, again and again and again and again. Ask me about the first time I urinated on a tree. I don't remember.

Every moment is a first somehow. Just keep doing firsts. Until the first time you die.

Our ideas and societies and morals and perceptions are so polarised so often. It's easy to place ourselves and have ourselves be placed by others into little categories that become lenses to be seen through, to be known through. Designating some things as important is natural, and I know I have done it to various bits of my life and personality for lots of good reasons, but I also know I have done it unavoidably in ways that are ultimately not helpful.

We have so much of a 'rite of passage' and goals-driven culture that pushes us to make bucket lists and visit as many countries as possible and put 'first kiss' in a trophy case, and it fosters so much sadness. What's a first kiss compared to a thousand kisses all different in feeling, tactility, location, etc? What's the first time I rode a rollercoaster where I was 93% spooked compared to all the subsequent times I rode 'em and got to notice the way the wind rushed around me with a sense of calm excitement and relish for the twists of the track that feel so much better now that they are known to me? Firsts can get lost.

Firsts aren't inherently more important than the rest of your life, than all the things repeating and circling and growing and being chosen again, and again, and again.

First, last, everything, whatever.

Notepad Doodles: All The Time

While I spent some time away from home recently I had a fun time drawing lots of stuff on notepad pages because I felt the urge to doodle very strongly. I feel like I haven't drawn with such a thin pen in so long, so that was nice, and it was good to just draw some things and be delicate but all wobbly at the same time.

I have my specific modes for being creative and drawing things and writing things in particular ways as part of a routine, but I love reminding myself that all I actually need to be creative is a way to draw and write. Any old notepad and pen is enough. I love to draw with particular pens or write in a certain style or way, but restricting myself can be really encouraging and remind me that I can still explore and be inventive and have fun and express myself without routines and particular equipment and doing things a certain way.

So I think these pages are a good representation of how little is necessary for me to express something and create something that feels fundamentally 'me'. Just draw some stuff! Just write some stuff! Just think some stuff!

I am just a big piece of paper who loves potatoes.

An Ode To The Sky

Every so often I have to take sky pictures because the sky is perfect and amazing and deserves endless attention. So here are some photos of the recent sky, looking very blue and simple and great. And full of clouds. I think my life should be more sky. I should look at the sky more. The sky should come down here and plait my hair.

I don't mean to be twee, but I just feel all the feelings about the sky and the trees and general outdoorsy nature stuff and I owe a lot to the Earth and I want to express that a lot and all the time. Nothing is like being outside and seeing the sky and stuff. I feel all the passion of the world around me. All of it! I have some very specific memories of seeing tiny tree branches blowing in the breeze like a beautiful scene from an anime and it's very important to me. 

Cool things about the sky:
  • It's good and pure
  • It supports you in your endeavours and mental well being
  • It loves classical music
  • It likes teddy bears
  • It made you a hot drink, here you go

Things That Are Perfect

Shut up and read my list. These are things to live for. Reasons to be here. Reasons to run away and jump and shout and laugh and eat a big doughnut or something.

  1. The night sky and constellations and all the different blues and blacks and purples.
  2. Colours all over. Messy paints mixing together and the patterns of your veins. 
  3. Your eyes, looking like alien homes.
  4. Everything soft that can hold you. Heating, blankets, bedsheets. Sweet sleep. Buttons and rolled up sleeves.
  5. Warm, warm, warm blood. The heat created right at the core of a warm-blooded creature. You and other people and cats and whatever.
  6. Drum beats and glockenspiels.
  7. Sun roasted tomatoes and pesto.
  8. Admiration.
  9. The paths through forests. The grooves of the bark. The big, flat mushrooms.
  10. Gentle, sweet, glowing flames.
  11. Wildflowers.
  12. Raspberrries and ladybugs.
  13. Bright yellow and bright red.
  14. Fairies and mythos.
  15. Bruises, oddly. I like them.
  16. Really good sandwiches.
  17. The air and how it touches you.
  18. Seeing stuff, collecting stuff, being stuff.
  19. A big glass of water and the warm, sleepy feeling after a good meal.
  20. Nice socks.
And endless other things.

Diary: Fox & Foxes

I got really into listening to Tori Amos this week, as well as Foxes' just-released album 'All I Need'. And that one Shawn Mendes song, 'Stitches'. I love that song. I feel intensely musically receptive at the moment and it's nice. It's come with an interesting sort of serenity and lots of curious little thoughts about brains and things.

I seem to have devoted quite a lot of diary space to The X-Files. I don't know what it is exactly that I love about it, but it's just great. Mulder and Scully are so great. I won't get to the new season for a while, but I'm pretty excited about it.

I've also been getting really enthusiastic about walking and reading (not usually at the same time) and studying German like I have a time limit (I'm currently at 42% fluency on Duolingo). If you're gonna play a game and earn points and level up, it might as well teach you a language, right? I just have to find a way to multi-task walking, reading, learning German, and writing cheesy poems about Mulder and Scully.

Animal Crossing Journal #25: Lottie & Lionel

Welcome back to Boy, the picturesque Animal Crossing: New Leaf town with a lot of flowers, and currently a lot of snow. Here's a snapshot of Molly and I having a rest in front of Berry's house. Life is good.

I have gone for this snazzy captain look, with an added crown so that everyone knows I mean business. Sadly, our good old friend Alfonso (seen here in a beautiful framed photograph) has now moved away from the town, although we do have a new lion villager who I will introduce shortly.

My dear friend Lottie came over to visit and she kindly brought a basket of perfect cherries with her as a gift. She is very smart and cool and all the villagers welcome her.

I decided to go and visit my cute owl husband who is always asleep. Oh Blathers, I love you. He loves me too, I'm pretty sure. One day I will complete the museum exhibits, just for him. One day.

And this is our stylish new villager, Lionel! I have to say, his house is really beautifully decorated. He's pretty great. We're going to be excellent friends.

Boy Dream Address: 6300-5269-2189


I'm thinking about the hypothetical visceral logistics of being a ghost. What would it be like? Would you feel like you still had a body? Or would it be more like occasional sudden abilities to touch and see things and feel the presence of yourself as a physical being? Hearing whispers filter through from the living like you're underwater. Walking through walls and suddenly, momentarily, feeling them press against you. Sensory static. Lights going through you, but stuttering and catching at you, because you're still there. Still a body. Just not like you were.

And when the light catches you, it's you who scatters, morphs, bends around corners and stretches in waves and ripples. The limits of your living body fall away as the sensations do. Your thoughts get stuck, made into shapes hanging on coat hooks. You stick to footprints. Your heart is in the curtains.

In this way I think there is ghostliness in our lives and living bodies. Sensations dim and fade with fluttering consciousness and awareness of our senses. Like how you can be struck with a sudden feeling of being alive, even though you know all the time that you are living.

Sometimes I feel too aware of my body and all its coordination. There are so many sensations all at once and the consciousness of it all makes me feel like a wave oscillating. If I was a ghost behind a curtain, maybe I would feel more solid, because even now in my body I feel like a system of vapour. A blowing curtain. An apparition.