I am prone to self-sabotage (and I have used this phrase before and I will use it again - probably). I am the demon on my own shoulder, pulling at my hair, picking at my skin and telling myself that a little of this won't hurt, and a little of that, and a little bit more.

I hide my antics from others and convince myself that if no one knows, it hasn't happened. (If I put the empty boxes back in the fridge, I've not eaten two boxes of chocolates in one go, no sir.) Before my photography break, I told myself I'd catch up next week, then the next week rolled around, then the next and the next and the next... ad infinitum until I picked up my camera again after much longer than I had anticipated.

In the spirit of improving both my art and myself, when a feeling strikes, I'm trying to grab it and run with it and wring it out until it can fit back into its box and be put back away.

As ever, my wonderful, patient other half was my assistant for this shoot. I have so many photos of him standing in random places while I sort out light settings and framing and focus - I could probably create a zine at this point, entitled Test Shots with my Boyfriend. He may not understand what I'm doing at the time, but I am so thankful he is always willing to help.