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Friday, 30 October 2015

Something There | Short Film


This short film was something that only came together because I had some interesting footage from a shoot, a pretty vague idea and a beautiful piece of soundtrack by Ludovico Einaudi. Take what you want from it but, despite the repetitiveness, I'm quite proud of this one.

What My 18th Birthday Means To Me

18 is an achievement. 
18 is well done. 
18 is a celebration. 
18 is proving myself wrong. 
18 is a pat on the back. 
18 is a milestone. 
18 is pride. 
18 is still not giving up.
18 is coming this far.
18 is a hug on a cold day. 
18 is freedom. 
18 is escape. 
18 is 157680 hours.
18 is 6570 days.
18 is 18% of a century.
18 is love.
18 is forgetting.
18 is trying.
18 is waking up.
18 is goodbye.
18 is responsibility.
18 is to the future.
18 is still learning.
18 is fear. 
18 is being thrown into life. 
18 is being lost. 
18 is breathing. 
18 is the beginning. 
18 is the end.
18 is sunrise.
18 in sunset.
18 is survival.
18 is suffering.
18 is taking the leap.
18 is now.
18 is for living.

Sunday, 11 October 2015

Where Do I Start With You? | Poetry Sundays

I don’t know how to write poetry about you
I like to write about the rawness of my feelings
everything about you is too messy to form into art
I write about fire and the past

I write about kisses

but I cannot bare to think about how lips would feel

or what yours would say
I write about the sun and the grass and the earth

I can’t compare you to nature
you watched me wilt

I can’t write about you

I won’t write about you anymore

I don’t have the words to begin with

and you honestly just don’t deserve it

-e.w.

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

The Sunday Afternoon Escape | Dungeness

This is just a quick video I threw together over the weekend. We spontaneously decided to head for the sea so I could get some nice shots of the sunset for the short film I'm making. However, the clouds took over so we never saw the sun go down but I got lots of aesthetically pleasing shots nonetheless.


Sunday, 4 October 2015

Picasso Masterpiece | Poetry Sundays

Your love disfigured me


I put all the pieces back in a rush

now everything is in the wrong place

like a Picasso masterpiece

I am your distorted jigsaw

healing shouldn’t take this long

healing shouldn’t hurt like this

I should be breathing fine

my lungs don’t know how to be lungs

the air whistles through the cracks

my spine arches before it’s time

my head is in place of my heart

my heart is in place of my head

my blood is flowing backwards

I can’t remember where I kept my strength

everything is in the wrong place

-e.w.