Claire Frances's Blog

I can't turn that key.
I can't open those floodgates
because I can't swim,
so I can't get washed away in that tide.
There's no floats for me to cling to
and no life jacket for me to put on,
so I can't open those floodgates
I've got to keep them padlocked.
I've got to stand like a sentinel at the gates
I've got to  stand like a watch dog,
like some stone Victorian gargoyle,
just watching,
making sure they never get opened.
That nobody ever comes along
and tries to set me free.
Free to face the current
that I  would stand no chance
of ever swimming through.
So,
I've got to shore up the gates with sand bags
and make sure  nobody passes.
The sand bags are a dead weight
 but drowned bodies are heavier
and I'll use either to reinforce the gates.
Anything so the water doesn't seep through
because I can't go there, not again.
I was lucky to make it out
bloated and blue, the last time
and I'm not taking any more chances.
What's dead is dead,
and I'm letting the river carry it away
I'm leaving it behind,
but I'm not going down in the current.
Be it Father Thames, Mother Ganga,
or the dreaded River Styx
it cannot have me.
I died that day
and I don't need another watery baptism.
I was baptized by holy fire and spirit
there is no need for stagnant water,
and floundering and bad memories and
near drowning. No.
I am saved.

© 2019 Claire Frances © 2016 Claire Frances Lloyd

I just want to write again. Of anything. Of all those delicious things like; Autumn, clay dolls (are clay dolls a thing? I know they are, I've seen them), good warm meals and festivities around a crackling campfire. And even of those boring, mediocre things, like the price of petrol and frothy spit on the pavement by the post office. Anything will do. 
I can't say when I first wrote about the painful things that seared like lightening. Those things that are so painful they sort of tear your soul in two. You know the pain...it strikes deep down into your core and you come apart. And you become this dual natured person. You have to. This other person alongside who you are. I can't say when I wrote about her. And I can't even decide when I became her, was I thirteen or five?
When I was thirteen I wrote down some of the words that burned me but never the names. Shame.
They deserved to burned by my words. But I didn't have the vocabulary back then. Now I do. Now I have an inferno for all of them, but funnily enough, they're nowhere to be seen or heard. And now my nerves are shot to shit any way. And I'm afraid of being alone, afraid of being real with myself. So instead I'm real with everybody else. But in time I'll reap what I sew.
But thank god I'm so good at sewing, I've stitched back so many pieces of me already. I'm like a stained glass window. Spiritual. You can even dress me up and call me beautiful...I'm pieces of so many different colours, but in some places I don't let much light in. I can't. But I'm all put back together! At least that. At least the pieces are holding for now. But glass is weightless and I wish I had an anchor. LEMONS. Utterly bitter lemons, that's what I taste on my tongue as I write this and I wonder will I ever be whole again. 

 © 2019 Claire Frances© 2016 Claire Frances Lloyd

It doesn't even feel like Halloween. And he said the meanest things. They still sting. Like cut glass in my eyes. Struggling. Cut glass would hurt a lot more than a sting if it was stuck in your eyes. It's more like being disemboweled. He sort of did that to my heart. Disemhearted. Is that a word? It is now. Is there anything worse? There isn't now. And autumn brings no relief. And I just wanna be a stamp collector. I'm so tired and I hate these sleepless nights. I just want to feel numb again or at least to enjoy Halloween. And not to have to think up new words to describe the hollow for where my heart used to be.

 © 2019 Claire Frances© 2016 Claire Frances Lloyd

The Trauma Cleaner: One Woman's Extraordinary Life in the Business of Death, Decay, and Disaster by Sarah Krasnostein
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

It was a good book. However I think the Title and the display image (of cleaning gloves) could be viewed as just a little misleading, IF you don't read the synopsis. I stupidly didn't. I don't think the author did this intentionally. After all it's called 'The Trauma Cleaner' not 'Trauma Cleans,' which should actually tell you that it's about a person not a profession. This book dedicates half of its material to actual trauma cleans and the rest is a biography of the life of a woman named Sandra Pankhurst. I liked the way it was done, alternating between one chapter on Sandra's life, one on trauma cleans and back and forth. It really was good because the chapters on her life are quite heavy and the trauma clean chapters that follow sort of takes you out of the darkness of the story for a bit and gives you something other to focus on. It is interesting, and Sandra has led a fascinating life for sure. So if you do enjoy true life tales and the like this could be a book for you. The writer writes beautifully, and contrary to what some reviewers have said I don't think she 'got in the way' at all. The only two things I didn't like about the book are this: As inspiring as Sandra is, and as interesting her life has been, she isn't likeable. At least not to me. She comes across as some what superficial and extremely selfish in parts. I personally think the way she treated her children and wife was selfish and pretty downright awful. So as much as I can admire her as a woman who has overcome so much, I can't admire her on a personal level. She has achieved what she has not just because she's determined and driven, but also because she's incredibly selfish. And some people will say how can you say disliking Sandra is a peeve you have with the book, well I say this: If you can't connect with or even like the main character of a book it takes a lot away from the reading experience. I don't think this is the fault of the author necessarily. And actually I praise the author for showing Sandra warts and all, despite that it took away from the book. The other thing I did not really appreciate about the book (which was the fault of the author) was her graphic depiction of one of Sandra's sexual encounters. It could be very triggering for a lot of people and it did make for grisly reading. I'm not sure how it really drove the story forward either. It seemed unnecessary for me. I really wish some books would come with trigger warnings at the head of certain chapters or paragraphs because not everyone wants to read about such things. Those two quibbles aside though I enjoyed it. It was a good introduction to trauma cleaning and I'll be looking for more books on the subject definitely, more books by this author probably, but more books about Sandra? Certainly not.

View all my reviews © 2016 Claire Frances Lloyd

The Trauma Cleaner: One Woman's Extraordinary Life in the Business of Death, Decay, and Disaster by Sarah Krasnostein
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

It was a good book. However I think the Title and the display image (of cleaning gloves) could be viewed as just a little misleading, IF you don't read the synopsis. I stupidly didn't. I don't think the author did this intentionally. After all it's called 'The Trauma Cleaner' not 'Trauma Cleans,' which should actually tell you that it's about a person not a profession. This book dedicates half of its material to actual trauma cleans and the rest is a biography of the life of a woman named Sandra Pankhurst. I liked the way it was done, alternating between one chapter on Sandra's life, one on trauma cleans and back and forth. It really was good because the chapters on her life are quite heavy and the trauma clean chapters that follow sort of takes you out of the darkness of the story for a bit and gives you something other to focus on. It is interesting, and Sandra has led a fascinating life for sure. So if you do enjoy true life tales and the like this could be a book for you. The writer writes beautifully, and contrary to what some reviewers have said I don't think she 'got in the way' at all. The only two things I didn't like about the book are this: As inspiring as Sandra is, and as interesting her life has been, she isn't likeable. At least not to me. She comes across as some what superficial and extremely selfish in parts. I personally think the way she treated her children and wife was selfish and pretty downright awful. So as much as I can admire her as a woman who has overcome so much, I can't admire her on a personal level. She has achieved what she has not just because she's determined and driven, but also because she's incredibly selfish. And some people will say how can you say disliking Sandra is a peeve you have with the book, well I say this: If you can't connect with or even like the main character of a book it takes a lot away from the reading experience. I don't think this is the fault of the author necessarily. And actually I praise the author for showing Sandra warts and all, despite that it took away from the book. The other thing I did not really appreciate about the book (which was the fault of the author) was her graphic depiction of one of Sandra's sexual encounters. It could be very triggering for a lot of people and it did make for grisly reading. I'm not sure how it really drove the story forward either. It seemed unnecessary for me. I really wish some books would come with trigger warnings at the head of certain chapters or paragraphs because not everyone wants to read about such things. Those two quibbles aside though I enjoyed it. It was a good introduction to trauma cleaning and I'll be looking for more books on the subject definitely, more books by this author probably, but more books about Sandra? Certainly not.

View all my reviews © 2016 Claire Frances Lloyd

Hozier said 'Don't chain your demons but keep em on a leash' or something similar. As if sometimes you need to pull them out, open up the doors to the dark spaces and walk in the shadowy places, just for a while. Because it's either that or you bury them. And if you bury them then the rot sets in. And the thing with demons is, they're a part of you. They're the deepest, darkest, strangest, part of you. Burying them is of no use. But you can't turn them out to run riot either,-you'd be dead within a day. You can't live like that, in that head space. Doctors in white coats would cart you away or you'd wind up in the gutter stinking of piss or worse...on a mortuary shelf.

 Because demons have voracious appetites. Demons eat for days, demons gorge all night. And if you continue to feed your monsters they'll eat up everything good in your life. But if you plan on facing your demons you've got to come down to their level, or else they don't play ball. You've got to visit their lair. And you'll have to sneak up on them and the element of surprise is crucial. Quickly slip the leash (or noose?) around their neck and give it a sharp tug. Firm, but not brutal. They'll rage and roar but you must persist, put your back into it and expect bruises. Kicking and screaming they'll come. And then you must take them out. Walk your demons one by one. Walk to all those places that you're not supposed to walk to. Go to those bars where the drinks are watered down and the people are awful. Walk those old paths, the ones that you used to think were normal. One might have been called Memory Lane Dormant, but you've forgotten. 

Then you take them home, sit them down, and draw them a map. A map of all the shitty places you've been to and show them how you still came back: Memory Lane, Shit Creek Without a Paddle, The Wrong Side of the Tracks, The Road Less Travelled, The Last Chance Saloon and No Man's Land, to name but a few. And they'll recoil from you in terror, realising you're made of stronger stuff. And their attacks will become less frequent. You'll start to sleep with the lights out and they'll start to sleep with one eye open. And slowly but surely they'll stop pulling on the leash. And they'll shrink and lose mass until you don't even notice them at your feet. Because you'll have put yourself back together again, reborn and free. And your demons will realise the party's over. And bone, claws and teeth will crumble to ashes before you on the breeze. Ashes to particles, particles to molecules, and then...nothing. Only peace.

© Claire Frances 2018

© 2016 Claire Frances Lloyd

#Artoween2018 is kicking off nicely. There's even a few other people doing it now and it's fun to see their interpretations of the challenges. These my entries from days 2 and 3. I'm a pretty basic artist and don't draw that well, but it's something that I really enjoy. I am a bit uncomfortable working in pencil, so although I like my Jack 'O' Lantern, I do  prefer my sassy little fat cat done in ink. I think I really managed to capture a little something of a witches cats sass and spirit in the picture. What do you think?


All artworks © Claire Frances 2018© 2016 Claire Frances Lloyd

So yes it's slightly late. Late to my own challenge, terrible ain't it? Any ways this is my first entry for the Artoween 2018 October Art Challenge. It's not a great one from me but I've never drawn anything like this before, so for a fifteen minute sketch I'm quite happy with it. It's called ''Sometimes You Only Need To Look In The Mirror.'' 

Mirrors are powerful vessels for spirit communication and I wanted to draw on this. In the picture a girl is mourning the loss of her mother in a funeral home but doesn't realise that right behind her, in the mirror on the wall, stands her mother. Her mother is extending a hand to comfort her but she can't feel it. I wanted to capture her sadness and the awfulness of feeling you've lost someone, and missing them so much, even though they are right beside you. That sense of someone being just beyond your reach. I hope I caught that. 

But of course the departed never really leave us. They just change form and visit new plains. And from time to time they do drop back in on us. And sometimes we can even seek them out, ask their advice, speak to them again and (if we listen) hear them speak back. Nothing loved is ever truly lost, I really do believe that. And I also wanted to capture that. I also thought that with it being Samhain for us pagan and witchy folks (as well as halloween) starting off the challenge with a piece remembering our ancestors would be a nice idea. 

I hope you like it, and I hope if you're taking part in the challenge you're enjoying it. Don't forget to share your artwork with me on social media using the hashtag #artoween2018


© 2016 Claire Frances Lloyd

So I love challenges and I love art and Halloween. So this year I've decided to combine all three and created my very own October Halloween Art Challenge. I think it's gonna be absolutely amazing and I'll be sharing my art here as well as on my facebook, pinterest, an instagram. I'd love to see people taking part so feel free. You don't have to start from day one, you can kind of come and go as you please. I'd love to see what other people come up with. I just love all things artsy and spooky and think I've made quite a kool little challenge! You don't have to be a professional artist to take part, it's all about expressing what this season means to you. Be that in kool little ink doodles or full on oil paintings, whatever floats your boat! So Happy Halloween and enjoy Art'o'Ween! If you do the challenge don't forget to hashtag your art on social media with #artoween2018 or send it to me on twitter and instagram at @itsjustclairey I'd love to see it!


© 2016 Claire Frances Lloyd

What could I be to you?
Your lullaby to soothethe drum beat of your heartThump! Thump! Skip! Start!And could I bethe flush behind your cheeks?Your rushing blood?Your sweetest dream?I could be anythingthat you could conceive,
BUTinstead I'm over herewaiting to be seen.
© Claire Frances Lloyd. 2018

© 2016 Claire Frances Lloyd