where a cowboy is king

Texas.
Where a cowboy is king and its kinda ok to be stubborn as a mule.
I fit in alright.
Never was i the kind of girl who thought Texans rode to school on the back of a mustang, but i’d be deceiving you if i said i hadn’t hoped that there would some swinging saloon doors in my life.
I’m yet to find those doors swinging, but i found something else.
A place that is better than it ever could be in a book or on the tongue of a storyteller.
There are a lot of misconceptions about the South these days, but i find that you haven’t lived till you’ve made like Davy Crockett and gone to Texas.


Theres never been a home for me that made me realise “this is it. This is where i will die one day.”
When the sun peeks from behind the desert and winks at the piney woods in South East Texas, why theres nothing quite like it. Its burns like hell but you’ll never feel the sun on your face the you feel it there.


When i was younger a lot of the people around me were desperate to run off to America to be the next big film star, or some kind of uppity up in New York. I’d never heard anything so dull. What a typical dream – its been dreamt for hundreds of years, where is their imagination? If you have the power to dream beyond your means why dream of something magic. Having said that a dream is a dream to he who bares it. Then again, if i had had a dream it would be for something far greater far more than monetary success. I’d dream of the land — so deep  the moon could swim in it and horses could run boundless for years. I’d dream of a place where the sunset was always singing through the window. There is so much more to life than what instagram or twitter, even facebook tells you.
You don’t need to lose those 10 pounds to be beautiful. If you aren’t beautiful now you wont be then. It isn’t the pound its the mind.
You don’t need those long shifts to get to where you’re going.
You don’t need to suffer to live.
You just need to live.
One deep breath at time.


So when i dreamed i dreamed beyond the stage of the weeping clown that i am.
I dreamed beyond that horizon that swung behind heavy waves as our sails flurried, where two pirates sat eating biscuits under the stars.
I dreamed i would never lose myself to society.
Something i do every day is remind myself what i am and who i feel i’m mean’t to be.
I will feel every footstep under me even when it sucks ass to be alive.


All this brings me to telling you — i never even wanted to visit America. It didn’t interest me whatsoever. I’d closed that off because it was something everyone wanted, and all i wanted was to be left to be exactly as i always had been.
Would that bring me money?
I’d find a way and strangely enough…
I did.
And it meant moving to the United States to become a shit kicker.
Something i’d been sure wasn’t for me (the usa … not the shit kicking, who doesn’t love kicking shit?) — was exactly where i was supposed to go.
To experience life on a scale that stretches from here to Uranus.
Be careful what doors you try to close.


We’ll be travelling back to some old haunts in Texas this week, and i can’t wait.
To look at it all again with a fresh mind and a new perspective. Have margaritas with friends, family days on crystal beach and so forth.Hopefully i’ll also get some kind of a kick in the ass to get inspired and work harder on my novels.
But who knows what the future will bring. As long as it eventually brings me back to a place that belongs in my heart — i wont ask for more than that.


I can’t wait to be around familiar places and people.
Call me crazy — but i can’t wait for the heat either.
Yes i will complain about it when i’m there but i love to complain.
Galveston is one of my favourite places in the world.


The colours of the sea side town we know and love.

Cowboy and a freckled hound
See you in Texas!

The cowboy

everything i ever had

I always worry that i’ll become a stranger to places i called home years ago.
That maybe people will forget or i’ll lose them without having said what needed to be said.
Life rolls on. It will always roll on. Even if you can’t fathom how.
It will.
But sometimes theres nothing to say except “i’ll be seeing you.”
Maybe not tomorrow or this year — maybe not even this life.
This song has been a favourite of mine for well over a decade.

And to all of you who are long from me,

“i’ll be seeing you.”

the discouragement of being

So i’ve spent hours writing a blog post for today that ended up just not being quite right or what i wanted, so it’ll have to wait for another day when the sun shines a little brighter and my mind is in the right place. I think the issue is that recently i’ve felt uncommonly discouraged. I don’t know what i want and maybe i don’t have to. It feels like everything is a little tougher even though nothing has gone wrong but nothing has been right either.

It’s the January blues in April.

I’ve spent almost my entire day writing, as i should be spending everyday, maybe not on the projects that needed it  but a start is a start. I’ll take it. I’m hoping i can finish reading my current book Rhino Ranch too — if you want to write you have to read, because what other way to learn & improve is there? Jack is constantly encouraging me to try the “Stephen King” method of writing for 4 hours and reading for 4 hours. I’m going to give it a bash, and if i dont have the time i’ll do my damnedest to make time.

Today was not successful because i’ve been writing for about 3 hours and only some of it was on my novel, the rest i’ve been messing about with social media but im close to giving up on that front. I’m shit at it. Can’t figure it. Can’t make it work.
Writing is hard because my mind feels like ” i should be doing something more/with faster results (if you please)” but how can you finish a book without writing it? You can’t. And i for one have a very complicated way inspiring myself and feeling what i’m writing (this will be a blogpost soon so till then).

So thats what i do. When i’m not out on an adventure or travelling i’m usually sat here. Writing. Or watching terrible paranormal programs because not everyday can be a day of happening. Thats something i have to realise. Not every day can be seized the way you had planned, and its ok. Behind the social media facade is someone working hard. Hustling day by day and dreaming up new ideas every night.

I carry notebooks with me everywhere just as i carry my camera(s) wherever i go. Often i see it as a burden because you’re never off. You don’t stop. If theres a great shot you’ll want to take it. And thus nice day out to the local harbour can suddenly become a job, but such is the life of a creative. That need to create never stops and thats the the beauty of it. You will never stop seeing the things you see that make you special, and the fact that you’re willing to share such a thing. Is poetic.

You do what you do in hopes of sharing a vision, a sound or something else with people who otherwise just live without art day to day. Almost as if you want them to see the world as you do. Though they may never, you wont stop trying. Because if we stop trying, then what do we have?

A bunch of dead dreamers.

the discouragement of being