The Smallest Life Live

A bunch of people have been asking for recordings of my live electronic set, so here's the first song. All in my bedroom, all the time.

I wrote and filmed the original acoustic version of this song (which you can find here) whilst I was in a psychiatric hospital in October 2014. A fuck tonne of life juice has happened since then and basically, shit is good now. It was still surprisingly emotional to film though, and so this performance is full of glassy eyes and full hearts (and an inability to lose).


Big thanks to Patrick Bridges, who shot the original for me, and who also did this one. He's a gem of a man, and is part labradorable. Give him a pat if you see him. x



If you’re not sure what’s going on here, recently I made this post.

I’m not totally sure how but the post went a lot of everywhere and touched some internet folk who decided that in response to my post about (amongst other things) online abuse, they’d - in a pure incarnation of irony - hound me with online abuse, telling me I was an ugly slut and I should kill myself.

Surprisingly to me, I was not crushed, I was curious. Curious about the online machine, about how it’s kept well oiled with anger and hatred, and about how best to respond. This is the best way I could think of.


This post talks about mental illness and life, just giving you a heads up.

Sometimes life serves you up something that has to be shared. And for me that usually comes when life gives you lemons. Cause sometimes you can’t make lemonade, sometimes it just all fucks up. You get citric acid in your eye and start flailing about blind and knocking awfully over-sweetened and pip-littered lemonade everywhere. You unwieldily try to run for the bathroom but run into a small child with pneumonia who falls over and starts crying. Now all the kids are crying and there’s some terse sounding woman berating you for your shoddy lemonade. What’s more you weren’t even supposed to be making lemonade today, you were supposed to be in Bali sipping G&Ts with your best mate Thea but that pneumonia ridden child is actually your child and so no Bali for you. 

You are down for the proverbial life count.

And in the lemonade horror-story moments of life it is easy to feel alone. 



But you know what loneliness is allergic to? Share-iness*

So that’s why I think it’s important to share these horrifying citric nightmare moments.

And that’s why I’m sharing mine.

A week ago, I came back to the land of the free. 

I was in a psychiatric hospital for 16 days. 

I’ve never been in hospital before, and for me, that was the bottomiest bottom I’d ever experienced. 

And in times like those I deal by making things. Songs, writings, cat-related business ventures in my head. Things like this video.


And this video is many things.

A letter to myself. A letter that says sometimes you are fragile but you are also good.

A manifesto for strength in weakness. Bravery in vulnerability. 

A hand stretching out into the void. A hand in absent space stretching out for another hand to meet it. 

And an explanation. I know I have faded a lot lately. Been absent. Disappeared. This is one of those, it’s not you, it’s me moments that has validity. I’m sorry. You are not forgotten. I have been slaying dragons.


Thank you to all that I’ve had the fortune to hold dear for this trip. You keep me buoyant. 

Special thanks to Paddy, who filmed and edited this for me, and provided hugs and ears and shoulders where necessary.


*Not a real word



Here's a video and song on that theme*

*As expected, does not stay on theme.

**No cats were harmed during the making of this video, but several A4 pieces of recycled paper are in a critical condition.


TW: mental illness, psychiatric hospital, suicide


Hey guys! This one’s about mental health, and it goes into a bit of detail, if that’s not going to sit well with you today or any time, that’s no worries.





I’ve been a bit shy about this video, kept it to myself mostly. It was filmed in November last year at Commonground Festival, just after I got out of hospital. Watching it, there feels like such a giant rift between my life now and what’s in the video. This is a good thing ultimately, but it feels like watching a video of myself from my awkward high school years; I’m all wide-eyed and anxsty and just-holding-it-together in a way that is hard to sit with.


It’s also uncomfortable because it’s revealing in a way I’ve not done before (which is saying something). Till now I’ve kept things pretty vague on purpose. I wanted to start a conversation about mental illness, not start a conversation about me and my diagnosis or symptoms. More importantly though, I didn’t want to scare anyone. I knew people would be concerned, but I didn’t want anyone to be afraid, which is why I’ve held onto this video. 


I wanted to be able to post this video say “Hey, here’s some more outlines of what this looks like. Yes it is scary, yes it is hard, but it gets better”. Back when this video was shot, I didn’t really believe in better. Honestly I didn’t even know what it looked like, I couldn’t imagine it. I was really just faking it, and hoping I’d make it. But now I feel like I have made it. At least enough of the way there to know that better is a realistic option. 


So here are some more outlines. Yes it is scary. Yes it is hard. But it gets better. Better than you can imagine right now. It really does. 


So here's a cover I did a little while ago of a Clare Bowditch song for a competition. The prize was performing with her on stage and a bunch of moneys. I didn't win but I did get an email* from Clare saying "you almost won" which I subsequently read as "you're the most badass amazing piece of talent I've ever seen" so yeah, Clare Bowditch thinks I'm badass.

*Quite possibly, everyone received this email, but let's not entertain that possibility for long.

Fun fact: while I may look all business, I'm totally not wearing any pants in this video. Like absolutely zero pants. Not even one.