I've had a pretty shit week if I'm honest with you. One funeral, one anniversary of a friend's death, and the news that another friend was murdered have left me feeling as low as it's possible to feel. There have been days when I didn't even want to get out of bed. I felt like a shadow was hanging over me all the time.
At times like these - as if times like these are normal - I turn to the Holy Trinity of my life: my writing, my art and my garden. The writing is an escape, a respite, the art acts as catharsis, and my garden restores my faith in life, even when I can't believe that faith could ever be restored.
I've written and arted myself to the point of burnout this week - these pictures tell the story of seeds sown and life bursting forth, despite the rain, despite fierce heat, despite high winds and salt air. These pictures tell me that it may not always be great or good or even bearable, but it will get better. Eventually.