In my other blog - the autism one - I spoke about an encounter I had with a bull. I lived on a farm when I was young, and this bull used to terrify me. One day, I tried to stare it down, and it started shaking its head, stamping its hooves, snorting loudly - generally acting like a fucking psychopath. My nerve broke and I ran away from it. I was completely safe from it. It was in a pen, and there was no way it could get at me. But it was still a terrifying moment, for an eight-year-old boy.
Theres visited me before Cathy and her friend left, so there was crossover between them. I don’t really think they got a lot of time to talk to each other, though. Cathy and her friend were very independent and I barely saw them through the day.
In early 2016, I worked on an art project with an artist near Findhorn. She seemed intrigued by me and seemed particularly intrigued by my thoughts on male chastity. I was starting to think a bit more seriously about using it as a feature in my photographs and in my writing, and it seemed like this might be something we could work on together.