I think my relationship with writing is the most stable one I've ever had. It's always there, I always carry it with me in the form of a notebook. Sometimes it's for fun, sometimes it gets more serious, sometimes it's because I don't have anyone else to talk to.

Early onset intertextuality, aged seven I would copy poems and pass them as my own, while at the same time faking illiteracy so my grandma would read for me. I grew out of lying and thieving the only way I knew how: telling the truth.

I love the frantic cut-up thoughts just before sleep, that’s my favourite time to write. It’s also when I’m least motivated to put anything down. But there’s something freeing about thinking something is good, wanting to write it down but losing to sleep, then never remembering it again.

Writing is part of my bestiary. Words are delicious, heavy, unreal, too real and I cannot be without them. On my body and on my art.