Document time passing.

I was going through a load of old photo albums with my sister yesterday, and I remembered this page, and was a little inspired.


I was going to do a sort of monologue of an hour in my life, or document my day, but I like the pictureness and I think it looks much prettier than just writing.

I was going to do a sort of monologue of an hour in my life, or document my day, but I like the pictureness and I think it looks much prettier than just writing. It was quite lovely, looking at all the old photos. I remembered all my favourite outfits when I was young (my mum knitted me this amazing black-and-white jumper, bobbles and all, my welly phase, the leggings my friend had which I wanted so, so badly because they had hearts on them). I remembered my best friend Jonathan, who moved to Plymouth when I was five or six, and all the times he pushed me over and drew me pictures and dressed up as a prince for me. I remembered the silly games me and my sister used to play. I remembered my first day of reception. It was rather emotional, in a nice way.

(I didn't draw the grandfather clock, I traced it from a drawing I found on the internet.)