Unfiltered.
Unmasked.
Rooted in the safe fields of a life reclaimed.
A life of proper books,
Art, old orchards
& safe chaos.
My life Grimoire!
Notes of the misadventure, the fallouts of my life & to celebrate all that is beautifully overgrown.
We always talk about the square peg round hole bullshit….but it does round up those feelings ..right?
Over the last few years I’ve been creating more modernised version of my old rituals! For what felt like decades I kept my ramblings & random shit tucked away in journals while I tried to keep my head above water. I spent the 70s & 80s as a neurodivergent girl being told to "Calm down" "Stop day dreaming” “Behave” “Why can’t you be normal?” “Stop overthinking everything” “Your overreacting” “STOP”!!
Not understanding what was expected & seeking belonging in the debauchery, hedonism & strobe lights of the 80’s / 90s neon haze raves.
Until one day, many years later, after finding the courage to flee an abusive relationship, I thought “ You know what…fuck this..I’m done ”.
The last time I had truly lost myself in the rhythm of writing, it was to build a world from scratch for my oldest. When he was two & fighting sleep! I created an entire magical world, drawn directly from the patterns of his bedroom wallpaper. Today, he has a family of his own, yet that papered universe remains my first true threshold into writing & storytelling.
So….I started writing again….My notebooks & journals took over the shelves. Who knew there were so many different types? They became an addiction, where ever I went I always looked for the most obscure & wonderfully weirdest notebook or journal I could find. Seriously.. I think I thought… “that’s the one, this one’s gonna save my life” Obviously it was the writing, the research, the metaphorical gardening, nurturing, weeding & pruning that saved me!
Eventually I brought myself a laptop, a place where I could write to ground myself, my safe zone, an open journal to help me navigate & process the "weeding sessions" of my weekly counselling. Although I still love a notebook!!!
My Rules
No Straight Lines: Embrace the spiral, the squiggle & the detour.
Unmasking, still learning! Be loud. Be messy. Be "too much." I do not need to "fix" myself.
Learning to be kind to my mess. I’m still treading water & some days the "sudden dives" are deep….but the water is fine & the company is better.
Whether you’re here for the art, the antics, or just to know you aren’t the only one "growing sideways," I’m glad you found the path...read on!
Stay Tangled. Stay Untethered.
A Disclaimer
Welcome to my corner of the wild. Before you step off the path & into the overgrowth, there are a few things you should know about how this space works.
I am an Artist & Vegan Stylist, not a Scientist.
The writing is from my own lived experience as a neurodivergent woman navigating ADHD, ASD, CPTSD & the beautiful chaos of mid-life. I am not a doctor, a therapist, or a medical professional. While I talk openly about my "Fuck" moments, "Sudden Dives," & ”Vulnerability Hangovers," the content here is for entertainment, inspiration & community-building purposes only. It should never replace professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment.
If you find yourself resonating with any of my writing, that’s wonderful. it means we’re vibrating on the same frequency. However, please remember that everybody’s lived experience is different. What works for my grounding rituals might not work for yours. Always consult with a qualified professional before making changes to your health or medication.
A Safe (but Tangled) Space
I'm an advocate for "Safe Chaos," but that doesn't mean "Anything Goes." This blog is a sanctuary for those of us who have been made to feel "too much." I reserve the right to prune any comments or interactions that are harmful, discriminatory, or disruptive to the peace of this garden.
Bottom Line: We are all just “beautiful gardeners" trying to find our way through the mist. Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t & always trust your own intuition above all else.
Love Carol
The Trinity of the Tangled:
Rego, Carter, & Mitchell
Date:
The Waning Moon,
Ink, Oil, & Analog Haze
Location:
The Center of the Undergrowth
There are some artists who don’t just create work....
They build metaphorical sanctuaries.
When I look at my life, from the undiagnosed neurodivergent girl of the 80s through the 90s chaos & the woman now treading water in counselling. I see three names etched in the undergrowth of my world.
Paula Rego. Angela Carter. Joni Mitchell.
They are the ground-People of my arts. They are the ones who never told me to "quiet down" or "behave." Instead, they showed me that my tangles & chaos are where all the power lies.
The Visceral Soil: Paula Rego
If you want to see what unmasking looks like on canvas, you look at Rego. She didn't paint pretty, manicured ladies. She painted the visceral, the heavy & the ugly truths of female life. Her work feels like the weeding sessions of counselling , pulling up the old, dark roots of nursery rhymes & family secrets.
In her world, women aren't small. They are sturdy, they are messy, they have teeth & flaws! She reminds me that my antics & my too-muchness aren't symptoms to be cured.....they are my anatomy. They are me!
The Scribed: Angela Carter
Carter is the reason I need a proper book. You can’t read The Bloody Chamber on a screen, you need to feel the weight of the gothic, magic-realist thorns. She took the straight-line fairy tales we were told as girls. The ones where we had to be saved or be silent & she burnt them down.
She wrote about the wolf-company & the monstrous beauty of being untethered. For the neurodivergent girl who was always told she was too intense, Carter is the validation that we are allowed to be our own heroes & our own beasts.
The Frequency of the Soul: Joni Mitchell
Then there is Joni. As I sit by my turntable in the Welsh mist, listening to the crackle of Blue, I realise she is the sound of the random frequency. Joni didn't follow the rules of music. She used open tunings & random rhythms that matched the chaotic firing of her own brilliant brain.
She is the ultimate wilde Gardner. She moved through the world with a case of you, refusing to be tied down to one genre or one expectation. She is the noise-canceling field for the soul.
The Connection
Why do these three fit so well?
Because they all share the Ancient Way of honesty.
Rego shows us the body isn't a cage.
Carter shows us the mind is a wild forest.
Mitchell shows us the heart is an untethered song.
Together, they form a protective field around those of us who are still treading water. They tell us that the sudden dives are where the real art happens. They are the sisters who aren't blood, but heart-and-bone.
The Weeding Session: Today, look at your bookshelf, your vinyl collection, or your walls. Who are the people who make you feel safe enough to unmask, to be you? Who are the ones who tell you it’s okay to be messy, tangled & untethered?
Rooted in their magic, The Resident Wilde Gardner
Junk, Souls & the Vegan Paradox
Date:
The Waxing Moon / Dust & Heavy Timber
Location:
The Junk Shop / The Center of the Room
They say one person’s rubbish is another’s treasure, but in this garden, we know the truth, nothing is truly "junk" if it has a story to tell.
I come from a long line of foragers. In the 80s, while other kids were being dressed in shiny new polyester from the high street, I was being trailed behind the "Jumble Sale Queen."
My mum had an eye for the overlooked & she passed that vision down to me.
When I got my first place 30 years ago, I didn't go to a showroom. I went to the tip. I found a table, solid, heavy & rejected. I hauled it home & three decades of life later, it’s still standing. It’s seen my children’s messy dinners, the ink-stained midnight scribbles & the uphill climb of life reclaimed. It’s survived because it’s proper. It has roots.
Lately, my daily ritual involves the scroll of Vinted, the quiet hum of a charity shop, or the smell of a damp junk shop. It’s addictive. It’s about finding the things that were meant to be thrown away & saying, "I see you.” But this is where it gets interesting for me......
The Weeding Session: The Vegan Paradox
I’ve been vegan for many years.I don’t eat animals or use any products, including in work, that are animal unkind!
But when I’m standing in a charity shop holding a beautifully made, secondhand leather jacket or a wool jumper, I hit a wall of ethical logic.
We are told that "vegan" fashion is the only ethical choice & yes there are some cool alternatives like pineapple leather or cork. But for the everyday shops with the "vegan" label ... is it?…..More ethical? Most "vegan" leather is just plastic. Most "vegan" clothes are just polyester, petroleum-based threads that will never break down.
If I buy a new plastic coat or pair of shoes that will sit in a landfill for a thousand years, am I really being kind to the earth? Or is it more ethical to save a leather boot or a wool coat from the bin, to honour the life it took by making sure it lasts another thirty years?If I’m stopping it from going to the landfill, does the label matter more than the survival of the planet? It’s food for thought, right?
It’s a messy, tangled grey area & I’m learning to be okay with not having a "straight-line" answer.
The Unmasking of Consumerism
Buying secondhand isn't just about saving money; it’s about refusing to stay small & quiet in a world that wants us to buy, discard & repeat. It’s about being untethered from the "new."
My house is full of "tip" treasures, charity shop & Vinted finds. Even are kitchen is upcycled! It’s a sanctuary built of things that were once rejected, much like the 80s girl who was told she was "too much."
The Weeding Session: Look around your room. What is the oldest thing you own? The thing that was "junk" to someone else but is an anchor for you? Write its story in your journal tonight.
Everything has a beautiful story.
Rooted in the rescued, The Gardener
