Reflective Photos

Once upon a time I lived in Malta. It seems like such a long time ago, many memories are long faded or at least starting to curl at the corners. I was having a look at my old flickr account and all these photos are on there, but I’ve never shared them on my blog. Here are a few of my favourite photos I took in 2012, along with the descriptions I gave them at the time. It’s a nice scrapbook of thoughts I had at the time.



A self portrait, with my current notebook which is always by my side. I’m starting to like the blank walls in my flat.


A very worn out book. It’s dying for a rest. As you can tell, it’s one of my favourites and so it came to Malta with me last year. Of course it has a return ticket.

The pages are falling out and some parts are unreadable, and I am aware that this book is still on sale, I haven’t got the only copy in the world, and I actually bought it at a boot sale for 20p. But this is the copy of when I first ever read this story, that’s unchangeable and not replaceable, and there’s something special about that.


Too cold for a dip, too pretty to walk away.

I’m worried that I’ll miss this place too much and that I haven’t embraced it enough. Easy answer, start to embrace it more. This in mind, I’ve began to walk a little slower, take longer glances and just simply sit down and be a part of the scene in front of me. You can’t look at everything through a camera for it to remain a memory, you have you place yourself where you are, and realise that you too are a drop of water in a big ocean






My bedroom ceiling isn’t flat.


I’ve had a few letters, cards and packages since I’ve been here, this isn’t all of them. It’s amazing how happy they make me when they come through my letter box:)


Like mother, like daughter.

I now know where I get it from. Not the tash, the humour.




Fly with me.

look up, look down, look all around.

up in the air and on the ground.


A fraction of the whole.

These ants kept walking back and fourth in a straight line. I am unaware of what they were doing, and I will never know, but it seemed very important to them.

I have many incomplete projects. They are very important, to me. Some are almost down on paper, one or two are fully explained in a notebook in such detail that it doesn’t make sense, and sadly most of them are only in my head. But they are so real and important, it seems impossible for them to mean nothing to anyone else, for it to be only an uninteresting line I’m walking along.

It made me realise I’ve got to get a move on, and create what I want to create. Otherwise these feelings and thoughts will just be more fading dreams.


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