Sakara

Bio: A disabled creative who loves words and emotions and all that.

Website: https://www.sakaradee.co.uk/projects

Instagram: @sakaradee

Day 15
A photograph of two ginger and white cats curled up on a bed. They are undeniably adorable and look absolutely content.

Least resistance I ever did see

Day 14
A photo of a wall with pieces of paper stuck to it, one has a line drawing of flowers in black ink, the one next to it is a poem. The shadow of a hand leads the eye to a piece which says "maybe this is magic" In the same black ink. The overall feel is dreamy with sunset light against the painted wall.

I could've made magic

Day 13
A screenshot of a genuine gmail email entitled "An epic plan" the email suggests we "go on a mission of finishing things", written in a style which feels like poetry and references working on the song "Scarborough Fair".

An Epic Plan

Day 12
Photo of a handwritten poem on torn blue paper. It is stuck to a wall with medical tape. The poem reads: Comfortable What a coincidence I've been thinking today About how uncomfortable I feel around people Around promises Around plans best laid, Comfortable What a coincidence After these hours were saved By a cat finding comfort On my lap, where he stayed. (Poem ends).

A poem about discomfort. My dad painted the wall. #Colab

Day 11
Black photo with little dots of light just visible

Stary nite

Day 10
A dim photograph of a bedroom with the floral curtains drawn, the colour scheme is warm yet muted, the perspective is as though you're lying in the bed, looking out over the ripples of the quilt. There is a cat resting in the foreground and an acoustic guitar a little further down the bed.

Crashing @ home

Day 9
A photograph of a cat sitting in a cardboard box which is on its side. One flap is hanging down and a digital drawing has been done over it to create the lines of a shopfront awning. The overall effect is of a ginger kitty shopkeeper watching over his "Fair Price Purrs" shop, with a sign that says purrs cost 4 scratches per 10 seconds.

Art has to be accessible for the artist too. Today's best effort^ (Flowers added by Em)

Day 8
A photo of a laptop screen saying "shutting down" which has random patterns drawn over it in pink digital pen and the words "rest, they say, rest" typed in italics.

They keep telling me to rest.

Day 7
A close up photo of an amber toned lamp with black details. It's a traditional style with a shade. The light cast on the wall is warm.

Alternative light source

Day 6
A photograph of a handwritten poem talking about trying to accept compliments and love from a newfound community. The note pad lays on an old white fleece dressing gown.

Nice comments

Day 5
A photograph of a poem written on a 5 size paper and taped to the door of a wardrobe. The door is painted white and there's mustard floral fabric partially covering it. I'm sorry I don't have the energy to type up my poem. Contact me at my Instagram (linked in my profile) or email me if you are interested and I'll send a text version as soon as I can. My email is: s a k a r a d e e at g mail dot com. Thank you for understanding.

I've been struggling... To grieve.

Day 4
Screenshot of a poem reading: We're quiet We talk I sit for the walk, You know every dream That died in this village My face Your face, Mirror image. My story Your story The one you envisaged? We're quiet We talk I'm glad of the walk, You've met half the ghosts Who hold onto my heart My fingers Your fingers A good place to start.

I learnt a lot today (by listening)

Day 3
A poem reading: I'm still holding on Tight to this shell This performance This hollow Love letter to hell, What I leave behind Old habits I break Come back Rediscovered, Rebuilt by mistake. I'm still holding on As my feet kick thin air I'm loosing my grip People gasp, people stare But they're only gazing At an egg, paper thin It's pretty and painted But empty within Except for...

I think I could do with more tools

Day 2
A poem, reading I'm not a teenager But I'm not 21 I'm not in love But I haven't moved on, I can't say I'm alone But we can't be together Unless you're my cat On my lap (Please, stay forever), Maybe someday I won't be so afraid But for now I'm still scared Loving creatures who've strayed, I'm not an old lady But I am no youth I'm not a lie But I'm still finding the truth. Accompanied by photo of a ginger and white cat.

The joy of sitting with cat

Day 1
A poem screenshot: Ego is the self I remember from psychology (I got a D) I seem to be attracted To people with a lot of self And with it, boundless insecurity. I seem to be attracted To people a lot like me.

The purposes are limitless (including ego-feeding, of course)