Flesh Eating Foundation on tumblr

Alice's Wicked Tea Party is a new UK independent music festival hosting the best alternative artists on the scene. http://thndr.me/LvbWd8

I just supported Alice's Wicked Tea Party on @ThunderclapIt // @Wickedspinswiki

Atari punk console, forest mims, tattoo

At an Action for the Blind course today we discussed the grieving process and how it relates to the loss of a sense. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. My eyesight has been falling for more than 30 years. I've been through sine of these stages numerous times every time my eyesight takes a further dive. Denial. I wanted to be normal. I didn't want to be singled out because I was deaf. But I was. Right through school I was viciously bullied. I rarely got to the anger stage. I was too busy hiding or trying to fit in. After school and sixth form I knew I was going blind but I denied it at the same time. I could still be normal right? No white stick fir me, don't need one. I flirted with the anger stage too. Experts said I shouldn't drive and told me my chosen career path as an analytical chemist wasn't an option. So I went out and got any old job working for the council. I was already in a band or two by then. I hid my deafness and my eyesight was still OK ish. I never mentioned my disabilities to anyone as I wanted our music to be judged on merit. Denial. I kept thst up for two decades. Meanwhile I accidently found a career and people seemed to think I was good at my job. I chose not to display my disabilites. Again. Even in a job I didn't really enjoy I wanted to be judged on merit. No allowance for disability. I had long hair to hide my hearing aids and I wouldnt use a symbol cane. Denial. I had accidents. Trips. Falls. Collisions. Stitches. I finally accepted a symbol cane. It was small, I could hide it in my pocket when I wasn't using it. I hated it. Denial and anger. See? Progress. I had to evolve my job to become more office based. Anger. My eyesight was controlling me. I'm not sure I've ever done the bargaining part of the process. I never said ' why me '? Or shook my fist at a god. No point in bargaining, just carry on. Doing gigs and generally socialising was getting harder but I didn't want to be old and boring. I denied my difficulties and got angry with them at the end time. So I skipped bargaining but fear not. I embraced depression admirably. Getting a symbol cane. Defeat. Depression. Injuring myself. Defeat. Depression. Getting a long cane. Defeat. Depression. I carried on gigging. When it was good I got enough of a buzz to counteract the isolation helplessness and social awkwardness. When it was bad I wanted to give up my art. Injuries. I've bruised myself endless times walking into things. I've had stitches in a head wound. Broken fingers. Broken toes. I displaced clavicle that required a shoulder reconstruction. All due to blind guy mishaps. Anger. Depression. My most recent injury was a broken humerus and torn rotator cuff. I did this ten weeks ago today and every day since I've been in a lot of pain with poor mobility. I've still got a free months to go too. I knocked ask my confidence put off me, effectively rebooting the gruel process about loss of independence. These days I skip denial though and go straight to anger and depression. But here I am, writing about it. This hints at acceptance. The final stage of the process. I'm also learning to be more open about my disability. My hiding it was nothing to do with shame, and everything to do with wanting my efforts to be seen for what they are rather than who made them. These days I care less about that. I'm getting old and I know I'm destined to always be a little known (but much respected?) Artist. I'm getting more comfortable with people saying I inspire others. I still find the word alien leaving my lips nitro doubt the words and sentiments of others would be rude and unpleasant. So if me doing what I do results in someone else doing something new then great. I've started to rise to the challenge of sharing my story, standing up and speaking to groups. Putting myself out there. I'm taking control where I can though it is hard. I've given up a 25 year career and I'm finding new directions. I'm accepting that I need to do less things in small dark cramped live venues where I'm at risk of injury and also socially awkward. I want to maximise my use of daylight hours. Art installations. Performances in interesting spaces. Film. Acting. Back to painting. I need to evolve. So I'm learning about myself and how my grieving process works. I'm in a cycle of anger, depression and acceptance. I suspect I always will be but I'm open to age giving me more wisdom. Thanks for reading. Share if it pleases you!

Mine all mine

Babysaurus ornament and led light

Pinky noise circuit bent keyboard

For sale

Horse baby punk synth. Touch contacts are rusty nails. Cv sockets neatly stowed away

New synth. Pony punk console.

Toy pick up from hades. simple circuit bend affecting pitch, with Jack out added. Doll parts purely cosmetic

Baby head lamp made by FEF DEVICES

Beach noise

I made a guitar stand

Baritone guitars are really nice