layer upon layer
Today was a good day.
Scott and I explored the New River (neither new nor a river) from Hornsey to Finsbury Park and took a lot of photographs.
One of my favourite ways to spend a Friday. Or any day, really.
untitled #174
I took a little break from #FungiFriday the past few weeks, but today they're back :)
untitled #21 [st andrew’s church, totteridge village, barnet, london, england, 2021]
untitled #22 [st andrew’s church, totteridge village, barnet, london, england, 2021]
until the day break and the shadows flee away [st andrew’s church, totteridge village, barnet, london, england, 2021]
emergence
Hello, my lovelies!
I'm so sorry for the radio silence, but today has been my first good day since my update on Monday. Conversely, yesterday was probably tied for worst since I started experiencing Covid-19 symptoms on Wednesday, 14 July.
It's been a long week punctuated by the most intense headaches I've ever experienced. As well as dizzy spells, wobbliness, checking blood oxygen levels, fevers, odd aches and pains, fatigue, dehydration, head sweats and an almost complete loss of appetite.
I managed to go all the way until yesterday without crying. But the headache I'd had since at least 23:30 on Tuesday finally broke me, then it broke me further an hour or two later.
I spent most of yesterday afternoon wanting to gouge my left eye and about three inches behind it out with a grapefruit spoon. When I gave up on the lounge and watching even short YouTube videos and went back to bed, I remember wondering whether, if I called 111, they would send me out a drip.
I've always had empathy for those with conditions that cause chronic fatigue due to the fatigue and lethargy that often accompanies my depression. But it has increased tenfold after spending so much time this week exhausted by the most basic activities.
My sense of smell returned on Wednesday after being MIA since probably Friday (I didn't realise until Saturday afternoon). Though, I'm not sure it's back to 100% yet.
Since late yesterday evening, I've had a clear head with only the need for one dose of painkillers today. Ironically, I don't think it was a Covid-related headache.
I've managed to complete some life admin I'd hoped to do on Monday before being told by the GP to stop. I had a 1.5 hour Skype call with my Dad. I still rested when I needed to and resisted the urge to overdo things and anger the Covid gods again.
Barring any unforeseen relapse, I'll try to do more tomorrow, including starting to de-Covidify my bed and flat.
On the positive side: my week was also full of friends and family calling, messaging, commenting and cheering from the sidelines for me to get better, and I am so incredibly grateful for every single one of them.
Apart from Sunday evening, which I posted about here, I haven't had time to feel isolated or alone since, because of all of my lovely friends and family.
In the process, I learned that by catching Covid between doses of the vaccine, I may develop much greater immunity. And I've lost 3.1kg since 14 July.
Please note: I do not endorse this method of gaining hybrid immunity against Covid-19 or weight loss. I would rate the experience -5/10. Would not do again.
I'm hoping to be back to (near) daily posting again from now on.
I hope your week has been better than mine xx
mushed rooms
The past two days have mostly been a write-off.
Apart from an official call, some personal calls, a chat with a good friend on FB Messenger and a couple of minor tasks yesterday, I spent most of the day sleeping or trying to sleep. I managed to eat and keep my fluids up, but not much else.
Wednesday and Thursday brought a day and a half of coughing, headaches and mild temperatures. In the wee hours of this morning, I must have had a fever, as I woke up with my t-shirt drenched and clinging to me. So today, I went to the nearest walk-through Covid-19 testing site for my first ever PCR test.
I still feel it's more likely just a head cold knocking me for six after not being ill since early in 2019. But there were enough potential signs from both the early variants and the Delta variant for me to err on the side of caution and do the right thing by my fellow citizens.
Thankfully, by this morning, I felt more confident in my ability to complete a 90-minute round-trip on foot to the testing centre. Unfortunately, I was still too out of it to think about putting on SPF50 for the journey.
If I had thought of it, I possibly also would have worried about sunscreen contaminating the test. But, at least, I would have slathered the sunscreen on my arms and taken it with me to apply to my face for the return journey.
Alas, no good deed goes unpunished. So, to add to my poor health, I now have a fierce sunburn on my forehead, nose, upper arms and around the front of my neck. Suffice to say, the sunburn didn't improve my headache any.
On the positive side (thank goodness there is almost always a positive side!): I took a detour on the way back through Tottenham Cemetery, including a wander around the lake there, a few glimpses of the River Moselle, and communed with the Canadian geese, pigeons, squirrels, and some other birds I didn't recognise.
I'm feeling vaguely more human now. Enough to do some small pieces, like edit the above image to share with you. But I'll likely call it a night again soon and hope my test results come back negative tomorrow and that this was all just a nasty head cold.
Either way - and at the risk of cursing myself - I seem to have passed the worst of it now.
For those who'd like to know: I spotted these fellows at the base of a tree in The Royal Oak's car park in Ashbourne as I was departing the hotel after a hearty breakfast with my parents in June 2017.
I hope you're keeping well xx
wrinkled
If I recall correctly - and the metadata would seem to support my belief - these fun guys were growing on the edge of Cornubia Lutheran Cemetery. Also known as Carbrook Lutheran Cemetery, it's a private cemetery.
There were three different types of fungi growing there that I photographed. I also have photos of some developing fungi, but I'd need to confirm which mushrooms they're the babes of.
These were taken the day after my birthday in 2009. My parents and I took a drive together to explore what ended up being three different cemeteries in the area around where they lived at the time.
Those closest to me know me well and indulge my photographic obsessions. I'm thankful those people have included my parents. Even if they, like others, have rolled their eyes from time to time. Or chosen not to look at photographs I've taken of roadkill or other disturbing subjects I've captured.
Yesterday evening ended up being less productive than planned.
Against my better judgment, I let myself engage with anti-vaxxers on Nextdoor for the first time in a while. I shouldn't have.
After doing some chores around the flat ahead of tomorrow's viewing, I also let myself watch some US right-wing media indulging in bullshit talking points. Call it masochism, but I tend to do it to ensure that I'm seeing this stuff in context and not automatically taking the left-wing media's side of the story. Every single time, watching the entire piece is more damning than any left-wing analysis of soundbites from it.
Every. Single. Time.
I'm constantly amazed by what people will believe. How gullible and lacking in critical thinking they must be to not question what they're being sold. How blatant the bullshit is. It's gobsmacking, and I regularly want to shake these presenters, "journalists", whatever you want to call them. ("Shaking" is the least violent action I can think of. And I'm not a violent person, but many of these people incite violent responses in me).
Related: last night, I watched the penultimate episode of Can't Get You Out of My Head: An Emotional History of the Modern World, a six-part BBC documentary created by British filmmaker Adam Curtis.
I'm generally not a fan of libertarianism (at least not the way it's been co-opted by the right-wing). And that seems to be how Curtis most closely identifies himself, though he doesn't really identify himself as anything politically. But I've learned a lot/been inspired to learn more through watching the series. And the first four episodes inspired much deeper discussions about the content and narrative when I wasn't watching them alone.
Having not yet watched the final episode, I don't exactly know where Curtis is leading. And from past experience, he's very good at identifying issues but not providing any solutions and making the viewer feel even more helpless and demoralised than before viewing (see: Hypernormalisation). But episode five definitely seemed to endorse a more critical review of what Brits and Americans - and by extension, Australians - have been taught about the mythological history of their countries. Which is especially relevant right now, in my opinion.
PS: This took me far longer than it should have to edit and post because of the regular excessive noise from my neighbours over my back fence. It should have been shared an hour ago. Please remind me why I'm signing up for a new 12-month lease soon..?
love you all x [hertford, hertfordshire, england, 2021]
In the wee hours of Friday morning, I got caught up in discussions with a friend and a lover (two different people). Two random conversations about oscilloscopes, dating and relationships, Black Box Recorder, Sarah Nixey (if you look closely, you can see me in this video), and The Jesus & Mary Chain. Subsequently, I didn't get back to photo editing.
On Friday afternoon, I caught up with one of those people and three other friends for our first proper reunion since well before the lockdown started in March 2020.
Of the four friends I met with, I'd only seen Sophie in the interim, and even then, on three occasions months apart.
It was a lovely afternoon and evening which lasted longer than I had expected but still felt all too short.
Here's to things getting back to normal over the coming months and us being able to catch up more regularly again.
Love you all x
untitled #174
time for reflection [st peter and st paul church, appledore, kent, england, 2016]
Last week I submitted some of my photographs to issue #149 of Shots Magazine. The theme for the issue is open, so work on any subject can be considered.
This was one of the images I submitted, though the version I sent through was black and white as the magazine is printed that way.
I took this photo of the Church of St Peter and St Paul, the Appledore Parish Church, in Kent on 20 June 2016. It was taken mere days before the referendum on Britain leaving the European Union.
A short walk around the town revealed posters, placards and flyers proclaiming many of the town's residents as proud Leave supporters. Conversations overheard while we ate at The Black Lion confirmed we were in prime Leave territory.
Fast forward four years and the UK has left the EU, but we're still figuring out what that means.
About five months after the UK referendum, Donald Trump was elected.
The passing of time since then has revealed the world to me as seemingly the inverse of what I had believed and hoped it to be.
I felt we were moving forward as a global population. But since 2016, I feel like we've gone backwards in every way except time. Honesty, compassion, empathy, rationality, sanity and logic all seem at an all-time low around the world right now. At least compared to what I've seen in my lifetime.
Though gender and racial equality has made leaps and bounds over time, it feels like notions of equality are bending back into shapes of the past.
Two steps forward. One step back.
Or, more accurately, two steps forward, three steps backwards, another two, another two, another one for good measure...
I often feel like I'm staring at a weirdly inverted, sideshow-mirror-reflection of the world I thought I knew.
Though I've (perhaps foolishly) not 100% discounted the thought of having children, I've seen so much in the past four years to make me thankful for not having children up to this point. And fearful of what they might face if I were to have any.
On a day when everything feels alternately raw and jagged or dull and numb, this photo feels like a metaphor for the disorientation I've been feeling more and more lately. But perhaps it appears calmer than my feelings.
a sheepish confession
Day ninety-seven of The 100 Day Project.
Illustrations:
Sheep confessing to wolf by J. J. Grandville from Cent proverbes
campfire songs