
an early walk
no one else around for now
welcome the moment

an early walk
no one else around for now
welcome the moment

Woman got herself dry socket. Exposed bone and nerves after a tooth extraction happens when the blood clot for Porte took doesn’t form properly or get dislodged.
It’s painful and can lead to infection. Guess I’m one of the lucky ones. As mine is infected.
I thought the pain and bad taste and breath were part of the healing process. No pain no gain right?! Seems this level of pain and the foulness is a sign of dry socket and infection. Go figure.
Thank goodness for saltwater washes, walking and self-care. Looking out for myself has become a priority in a world that just doesn’t care.

It’s a week since I’ve been here nearly. I’m not going to try and backtrack and fill in the gaps. Let them lie, because I’ve been healing. And today I’m beginning to feel more like myself again. This is my first image in a week. I ventured out not far from my front door into the sunshine, into my local park. It was glorious to get out as well as to feel a load or two dropping from my shoulders. I didn’t realise what stress and worries I’ve been carrying for the part month or so until they were let go.
More recent was an emergency extraction of a cracked wisdom tooth. Tooth hardly there at the back of my gum, but cracked on some food, cracked all the way down. I was advised to get it extracted. A simple procedure. Done in half an hour or so. Let’s just numb up the area. Little did the dentist know that my teeth are strong or that this little fucker was fused to the bone. An hour later or more and I stumble out of the chair into the growing dusk and I’ve got a gaping hole in my gum, held together by 4 stitches.
Fast forward to today, and me out walking in the sunshine and not allowing my self-pity to get the better of me. I look like a chipmunk and talk as if I’m drunk. But it could have been worse right. I daren’t think what would have happened if I’d left the cracked tooth and gotten an infection, not just teeth, gums but down to the bone. The dentist said I’m lucky. I said no I’m not. I’m intentional I said. Health is wealth, and I’m not going to mess around with mine, I said. The dentist said, he respects that. He said he liked my energy and made his evening, going in with my emergency. Made the time fly by.
Glad to be of service. Aren’t I always glad to be of service? Doesn’t a lot of people feed off my energy. Don’t I just bring my ‘A’ game for a lot of people. This Summer, I’m turning up for me. I’m giving myself the time and space to heal and breathe. My energy is low for other people, as I want it to be high for me.
I’m a shining light that creates space for other people’s lights to shine. I make people feel at ease and comfortable at the same time as inspired and tuned into themselves. I create space for people to air their cares and worries. For them to find a way back to themselves. And I don’t even get paid for this. This is just who I be. And I’m not complaining. I’m not having a ‘woe is me’ moment either. I’m just stating facts.
Fact is, this wisdom tooth brings wisdom. This wisdom tooth gone but left a wound, a wound I need to heal. A wound that needs time and care and space to heal. And I’m here to give it to myself as no one else will. Don’t worry I’ll still be turning up here as this is my space. I’ve not been bought by any corporation. I’m sharing my art not a commercial. I’m not selling you anything or getting paid. I’m free. I’m just sharing this little light of mine and my heart.

With the warmer weather and the slower pace, I’m so ready to lean into the lazy, easy, light and breezy days of summer.
My six weeks off the clock summer holidays are just around the corner. I can taste the sweet sweet honey of rest. But I’m not quite there yet. Still things to complete, anniversaries to celebrate and forms to send off.
But it’s close. I can smell the cut grass and strawberries and syrup already. The long drawn out of days of doing fuck all. Hell to the yes!
Reading is top of the agenda. Summer self-study of topics and issues that are making me buzz. I’ve already started my crime fiction reading as I get back into the DCI Ryan Mysteries Series from L J Ross, all set in the north east.
And now tonight, with an hour to spare before pick up I dive into We Refuse by Kellie Carter Jackson. This is just what I need coming off the back of completing my black mothering and fugitivity chapter. But it also is adding fuel to my fire of refusal and divesting from racial capitalism.
I’m only a few pages in and my heart is singing and I’m thumping with energy in the recognition of finding my space, my safe place where my desires and wants for freedom on my own terms is not weird or unachievable. But is very much necessary.
#onwards









At the same time as trying to break free, create and embody a life of my own making, on my own terms, I’m still embroiled within this insidious society called white supremacy culture/ racial capitalism.
At the same time as trying to get free, and so spend my time doing what I want to do rather than what I’m expected/supposed to do/be, I waste energy in pulling away which I’d rather spend in pushing forward, pushing on.
At the same time as trying to be free, breathing deeply, resting and dreaming of other possibilities, I’m still meshed into the lives of other people, who are not interested is taking flight or even dropping the protective cloak of scoring victim.
At the same time as I take flight into the unknown, I realise my resolve and reserves have been depleted in the fight, in the pleasing of others, in trying to fit in, in trying to be loved on my own terms.
At the same time as trying to save myself, I know now that I have to let go of my hold of you. The hold on what could have been instead of what is that is crying through my bones and blood’s knowing.
What are you most worried about for the future?

the undercurrent has always been present, simmering like lava just below the surface ready to rise up at weak points, at moment of disarray and hopelessness. hate shimmers like jewels to those who have little but promised more. clinging to the sharp edges of hate because it’s something to feel, to use as a weapon against others instead of the self. hate with fear, a lethal concoction corroding within as well as without.
1936. October. With a chill in the air, the blackshirts ruffled through the East End of London, snaking their territory, their Ayran rights. With Police fronting, they still couldn’t take the streets. Jews, Irish, Communists, Blacks, Labour activists, workers unite. Stand firm. Shoulder to shoulder, they shall not pass. Blackshirts, angry scrunched up faces, hearts riddled with hate and fear, shall not pass.
How do you practice self-care?
