I was due to be in Edinburgh for 4 days, and also had plans to venture over to Glasgow for 3 days after. Tessa, a friend from back in Scarborough is now living just out of the centre in Leith with her partner Ben, and they kindly offered to let me stay round theirs while I was supposed to be working in the city.
I arrived around lunch time on Thursday, and took myself for a little walk. I stopped in Costa for a brew, and despite not having a massive love for Edinburgh I started out with the best intentions by throwing up a post online asking for recommendations on what to do during the days I was free. I was gonna be there for 4 days, so had to make the most of it. And genuinely looked forward to scoping out some of the places folk had sent me.
I’ve neglected this blog a little recently because I’ve been pushing my OnlyFans and doing other shit and I am only one person. So forgive me, and here we go with some words and photos coming right the fuck at you.
This weekend I headed down to Nottingham to shoot a bunch of content for Alium Cult – a collective of models identifying as disabled, intersectional feminists. Their goal is to provide a positive, safe and inclusive community for those of all abilities. Want to know more? Check out their website here and support ‘em via Patreon here!
I arrived in Nottingham and I think this is my first day time visit having only ever passed through on a night bus. As we headed straight to the airbnb I didn’t really get chance to experience it properly, as my first impressions were that it resembled a second hand Sheffield… maybe I’ll have to go back and give it a fair go.
The plan was for those able to to arrive at 4pm and we’d all crack on with the shoots in the different rooms available to us. Unfortunately, plans don’t always go as expected and with some last minute cancellations and everyone else running late, me and Sarah just cracked on and shot a set of photos making the most of the house being empty.
Annoyingly my card corrupted itself which I think is the first time this has happened at a shoot so I chucked it to the side incase I could recover the files later and used a spare for the rest of the shoots. Obviously as this is a photo blog I did recover some files! So here’s a couple.
I’m making my way south tomorrow to spend time with a couple of friends before I fly out to Prague on Tuesday for a week.
I’ll be taking my laptop with me and undoubtedly won’t be able to help writing about something and posting some photos while I’m away, but just incase I don’t get chance I’m gonna leave a selection of photos from a couple of recent days out to Goathland with Debby, and Broxa with Robyn. Two rad humans that are down for getting out and walking on the regular.
I can’t stress enough the importance of dragging yer sorry arse out for some time in the sun, or even if the weather is shitty – Honestly, it does you the world of fucking good.
Not just mentally, either. In the past few months of aimlessly roaming about I’ve just weighed in at 19 stone which means I’m 2 stone closer to my target weight. And it’s nice to hate yourself just a little less than usual. Not bad, for a lazy piece of trash eh!
Just taking a short break from writing about the hitching adventure at the moment to focus on a few things I’ve done this past week since being back in Scarborough. Also because I want to post at least once before the end of the month as I have been a bit quiet recently. This is probably going to be a pretty long post but then again I don’t think I’ve had a short post for a while so I guess you’re either used to it or are just happy reading the first half and leaving.
The hitching tour ended for me in Manchester, and I managed to find a bus I could get for free the majority of the way home to Scarborough. Not bad.
The morning after I got back I did a short section of the wolds way walk with my parents.
I haven’t posted since I’ve moved back to Scarborough, and I’ve already done a few different things so figured I’d condense it into one long post rather than a few small ones which I know I’d never get around to doing.
It’s always strange being back in Scarborough, but some things never change and the locals still amaze me.
3 months I spent waiting to start a new job with the Royal Mail. The process was a pain in the arse, I had a pre-interview meeting, then there was the interview/job offer, along with the process of getting my staff ID sorted, and the start date agreed upon.
I was supposed to start Monday 20th, though on the 17th received a call informing me I wasn’t needed for another week and that my new start date was the 27th. If I’d have suggested that to them at that short notice, they’d have told me to jump.
A few hours after I received an email thanking me for working with them and that that was basically it. I assumed it was an admin error, but decided to follow up. I spent a couple of days making phone calls, all of which went unanswered. So I sent a message asking for some clarity, to be informed later I’d be called again to confirm my start date and that the interview process was out of their hands. That was enough, I replied thanking them for contacting me but to tell whoever’s behind the delay to go fuck themselves. They removed me from the database.
I guess I quit before I technically started.
With that, I’m again jobless. I’ve spent much of my adult life this way. I can’t hold down jobs, and despite how the above probably reads, it’s not for a lack of trying… though it’s no lie that my heart ain’t in it.
I’m thirty, fast approaching thirty-one. I shoot parties once a week in a nightclub. I’m fine with this, it forces me to be social and I’ve met some good cunts in Cathouse. The only problem is that I don’t make enough anymore to not do anything else, and I don’t know how much longer I can realistically get away with doing the club thing before looking like some mental older guy with a camera.
I went to the pub earlier, on my own, and sat in the beer garden in the rain with a pint I bought with my next two days food budget, chain smoking from the pack of baccy that Jazz left behind after her visit. I don’t smoke often, and already I’m coughing up shit. The space did me good, and I put some things in perspective. I have this burning need to get out and just do shit no matter what the consequence. I spent about an hour putting out feelers, and I’ve already got some cool things lined up – Basically, I’m hoping to make my blog a little more interesting, and I’ll have a ton more time to plough into my patreon and b-sides blog as a result.
This blog will be free, forever, but if you enjoy it and can spare a little cash I can give more back but I guess if you dig the stuff I do there’s no better time than now to sign up to my patreon and throw some coin my way in return for what I do so I can also afford to pay rent.
Right, I’m off to pack. I’m away to Liverpool in the wee hours and then have to find a way over to Sheffield on Friday for a couple of days before venturing over to Scarborough for another couple of days or something… figuring shit out as I go, embracing the chaos again.
For a few months I’d been feeling like my photos are mostly shit, and that was down to feeling less connected with whatever was going on around me, and with my anxiety, and the realisation of that anxiety being an actual thing that I needed to deal with.
Since almost the beginning of August I stopped myself drinking anything but water for a solid month. I was curious to see if it’d make me feel any different. I missed tea, a lot (I now have an occasional cup of tea, like once a week maybe?), drinking water was and still is boring, but aside from that it was fine – In fact it’s generally done me a ton of good; my moods are more manageable, I’m less irritable, more rational, I don’t really mind getting out of bed early, and I don’t ache anymore. The only problem being when I was out, I missed alcohol.
It’s easy to think that shooting club nights are just the same night repeated drink after drink, but when they come into their own it’s hard to explain, especially to those who don’t do it. I can look back at certain photos from different nights and remember entire stories of situations that happened on each particular night. Since allowing myself to drink once a week, coinciding wonderfully with me taking party photos and finding a balance and purpose within that chaos, that’s what the past few weeks have been feeling like and that’s what I’ve been missing from my life recently. I feel it coming back and it’s familiar and comforting, and I fucking love it. Looking at some of my party photos, especially recently, I’m feeling good about my photos again.
I’m an anti-social fuck at the best of times, so I need to focus on getting out a little more to surround myself with familiar drunken faces and have a goddamn dance because if everything is as shit as we believe then we may as well feel good about it together.