The Poison Pen


Posted in Uncategorized by thepoisonpen on January 26, 2014




I’ve never worn the wig. Except once when it had diamante devil horns attached and it terrified the cat into thinking I was possibly, a giant cat.

Photos: Simon next to the statue of Bacchus at the British Museum, Danni drinking tea at the Wellcome gallery where we gossiped about male models, and me and my bestie Katie a long time ago (note: not in the wig) at some shitty gig in which I puked all down the street on my way home. Never drink wine in the head of steam is the moral there.

Update: if your cat is being a dick (they are prone), then here is proof of the cat ears technique. I’m not outwardly condoning terrifying your cat, but I am just throwing it out there.

Merry Christmas!

Posted in Uncategorized by thepoisonpen on December 27, 2013

I had a quite one this year, with one family member unwell but refusing rest (nana, you’re going to be tied down next) and one in Afghanistan it was more intimate and calmer. Well, minus one ambulance call out at 4am. It was just lovely to be around family. Oh and my mum spoiled me with my favourite perfume, Jo Malone’s English Pear & Freesia with body lotion! Spoiled. And now smelling like flowers.

The Secret.

Posted in Uncategorized by thepoisonpen on August 16, 2013


Me in my old flat that was riddled with spiders. A fellow tenant being a black house spider in which I had a game of cat & mouse with over the period of a month. Mainly so I could avoid becoming another article on the daily mail alongside a picture of an inflamed bite wound. They are wily things.

The instax is back!

Posted in Uncategorized by thepoisonpen on May 13, 2013

New shows for Yellow Creatures, basically a fun half an hour messing about the Offquay. ImageImage

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Time to pick up pace again.

Posted in Uncategorized by thepoisonpen on April 20, 2013

The past 6 months have been a turbulent, funny, quaking epoch in my life. Liking to focus on the positives, I starred in a play of one of my all time favourite films: Arsenic & Old Lace, at the People’s Theatre in Newcastle. I then spent a horrid 2 months learning how to stage act to the best of my ability and managing to *not* pass out on stage for 5 nights in a row. Amazing knee buckling stuff. I also met some lovely people which is probably the most important thing.

I have to say one of my favourite things was being able to feel part of a family unit for those 2 months. Everyone was so helpful despite feeling completely out of my depth and having zero experience. I even got some of my home ware onstage in the form of a hideous gold candelabra.

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The Wheel of Misfortune.

Posted in Uncategorized by thepoisonpen on August 7, 2012

I appear to be coming out of an extremely long period of sadness and depression. The kind in which you can’t quite put a finger on, but where you find yourself religiously watching the real housewives of NYC much to the concern of your beloved, who can’t quite prize you away from your daily numbing sesh.

And that is what I have discovered: Television can be an insidious numbing tool when used incorrectly.

Then I realised how quickly half a year can go by and how little you feel you have to show for it. How I stopped writing, stopped taking pictures and stopped feeling like myself. Life throws up like drunk sometimes, this has nothing to do with you, it just happens. Situations, relationships and work all change all of the time, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. Right now it feels all of these things are in a state of flux and it just feels overwhelming.

How does depression hit? I’m not sure, but not talking about it can add to it. Pertaining to the idea that you are ok, and that you just need to put on a happy face and get through the day can make things worse, you end up logging in online and feeling like you’re the only one struggling, thus adding to the feelings of isolation.

I deleted my facebook in a minor adult act of defiance and in a last ditch attempt to make me write letters, send emails, and anything just to catch up with the people I truly cherish. It’s worked to an extent, and I can honestly say this; when it’s not there anymore, you don’t miss it.

I’m not sure what the purpose in writing this is, maybe it’s just to say to myself out loud that it’s ok to not to be ok all of the time.

Accompanying photos taken sometime in March at the Discovery Museum, Newcastle. I actually took the photo of the mannequin and asked my hairdresser to re-create it. So I am now officially a blonde.

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Instagram (or the welcome of the android brigade)

Posted in Uncategorized by thepoisonpen on April 8, 2012

Funny how the more things happen in your life, the less time you feel like writing about it online. I’ve been up and down, my health has been poor so I engrossed myself in gardening (more on that later) and practising with a new drummer and keyboardist for our band. A proper band! Who would have thought. From such humble upbringings as a stage fright inducing two piece.

I had a birthday and turned 27 to the display of a surprise party in Baby Lynch’s amongst hideous 70s decor, tretchikoff pictures, friends, cat playing cards and a cake equivalent of hotel chocolat chocolates. Boyfriend is worth his weight in gold.

I’m also contemplating ideas in my head for my business. The old formula is feeling tired, but since having the studio I can feel a new direction forming, slowly but surely. Always follow your passions, or at least that’s what 100 tumblr reblogs tell you.

Anyway, feel free to add me on instragram. I much prefer saying things with pictures than to be redistricted within 144 characters.

instagram / stealingkittens.

Memoirs of a Mangy Lover

Posted in Uncategorized by thepoisonpen on February 1, 2012

I bought this recently at Tynemouth Market. The Sunday market felt particularly disappointing these days as it’s mainly filled with new items, craft sellers and cheap jewellery. There’s some brilliant illustrations throughout but I’ve not yet started reading it. My mind is in a flitting mood and I can’t seem to gather the attention span to read anything other than old Beatrix Potter books.

January was a good month overall, I’ve decided I want to start some monthly appraisal so I can monitor how much I am getting done versus spending my days feeling quite the opposite. I went to see an old unreleased Japanese horror about a ghost cat and a shamisen player, felt thoroughly inspired by a Mervyn Peake exhibition, took up a porcelain jewellery class (in which my mother came round and managed to smash some of them by accident), met some cool girls, bleached my hair blonde and started to feel a bit more in line and a bit more focused. Next, is to get back in touch with the music and find myself an art studio.

An ode to Robert Burns

Posted in Uncategorized by thepoisonpen on January 5, 2012

2011 was a funny old year. In a lot of ways I felt more mellow, more self conscious and observant than previously. A little shaky perhaps. Despite that I still managed to get things done that made my bones shake. I played three gigs with my band, first time being on stage was a scary, scary experience. I went camping and survived. I visited my Dad. Wrote less in my journals and felt a lot more melancholy towards the end of the year. I also moved home to a city I’ve wanted to live in for a long time, a home which was found only after spending half of the year looking.

So here’s to 2012. Not sure what you’ll bring, but hopefully more sunshine and a few more experiences to tie under my belt.

Smoke and Mirrors

Posted in Uncategorized by thepoisonpen on May 28, 2011

I feel incredibly disillusioned with the general blogging stratosphere these days. The evolution of words and expression seems to have become a homogenized uttering of the same ideas, tastes and flavours.

Putting your best foot forward, and I blog therefore I am.

I guess I’ll sound like ol’ sour grapes like every other mid 20 something who’s been online far too long. But things are continuing to feel far less real, so that social interactions almost become a depressing and awkward byproduct. People re-post creative expressions that were conceived and created lovingly and time consumingly by somebody else, yet these images become specters that are supposed to reveal another individuals style and personality ala tumblr. In the words of Edwina abfab flipping through an interior design magazine locked in the living room with Saffy “I WANT TO BE ALL OF THESE THINGS!”.

I really don’t want to be all of these things and it makes me long for the days of the marginally vain, awkward and not very css forward pages that had far more fun and frivolity about them than being the 179th person to re-post it in the first place.

The internet; a place that makes you feel like to you need to own a £2k lens to take photographs of yourself and your outfits. A place where little explanation of background, media trials and evolution are expressed truthfully. Because who wants to truly be seen as anything less than perfect right?