Slow Club - It Doesn't Have To Be Beautiful

Night photographs by Jason Hawkes.
Quite beautiful. Sometimes I forget how pretty London can be.

Sketchbook pages from an old project.
I miss it a little, the bullets we shot through books.
Now it's all about shipwrecks and you'll not feel the drowning.

Happy Birthday.
You are loved and missed. Always, always.

Drawn whilst talking to Pru.

I feel a little stuck tonight. Not stuck betwixt spiderwebs, or enveloped by some form of deadly treacle. But, stuck within myself. It's most perplexing.. I wish I knew how this feeling came about.

I'm writing to Thibault again. Thibault brings me great comfort, but I always leave the wretched door open and then great heaviness makes his way in too. I'm not sure which is worst; to be with, or to be without.

I suppose it needn't matter. I doubt that this worry shall still belong to me in the morning.

Bear Bonaparte is having to wait a small while. I started a new drawing project at art school and I'm irretrievably lost in it. But I promise not to forget.

p.s,

A tiny book that I made for Rosianna,

Means the world to me.

My Time Capsule.
There are diaries and dresses underneath. Letters from Kitty.
Everything I couldn't bare to keep.

The Imperial War Museum.
I went here for help with my homework, but I couldn't stay for very long. Hurts. All of it hurts.
It's so.. I can't understand, can't comprehend. In part, it's more a graveyard than a real graveyard could ever be.
I wish I didn't have this great need to know about it all. I wouldn't feel so monstrous.
But I am realising that it's a fault of my own; being much more concerned with pasts, than I've ever been with futures.

In other news, I woke up this morning with a huge want to draw Bear Bonaparte (a grizzly bear dressed in Napoleon's clothing).
I shall start before I sleep.