Stuff and Features

So, I've never really be much for words. Nor have I ever been particularly good at expressing myself through them. Ironically, more than anything in this world and for as long as I can recall, I have wanted to be a writer.
This year (or last year, now) I discovered a lot about photography. And myself. I have one more year to go on this course. And I'm not entirely sure I'll find the motivation to complete it.
When I'm left alone for hours on end, I'm not drawn to images and pictures, I never draw or paint. Instead, I spend endless hours inside my head, telling stories. Watching imaginary words spiral around my bedroom. I invent characters and situations.
I love visual art. I love photography. There's nothing like going on adventures at 3 in the morning for shoots. And no other art form could possibly require it . I love capturing light and expressions. But, honestly, it doesn't come very naturally to me.
And if I've learnt anything for 2011; It's this;
I want to be a writer. I want to tell these stories which plague my dreams and unconscious mind.
And, yet, at the same time. I don't like reading (unless it's Stephen King) as much as I like viewing and interpreting such wonderful artworks as these:


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