• martinwrbaker


Personal disclaimer, I’m done with planning until further notice, for reasons I expressed on a blog/facebook post a few days ago, anything I post for now is nothing but aimless informal ramblings, which you’d think I could just keep to myself, but there’s only so long I can talk to inanimate objects in my room before alarming my housemates.

I do find the ritual of writing and recording quite satisfying, even if it lately consists of complaining about my brace. Not that I’m not grateful for everything it will do for my breathing, and what I’ve come to understand about the neurological/anti-inflammatory implications of this treatment. it’s just been a long time now, almost three years. So strap in for a thrilling retrospective.

It hasn’t all been arduous, the first four months where horrendous, the following year or so was relatively painless and insignificant with more focus on habitual adaptation, then exactly a year ago it ramped up when I had the first train track braces fitted. These where initially a medium on the pain and discomfort scale, although in reflection, I felt pretty tense last winter, which might have had some relation to the physical strain, I was especially busy, but I had this lingering paranoia the world was slowly turning on me, so a virus slowly turned on it, and we were sent home to dwell, my mental health was ironically saved from an impending manic episode. So that’s nice, even if not everything is nice. But an impending meltdown had been a long time coming for me, I had an obsessive, restless attitude of getting things done and would frequently run into inflammation and fatigue.

This is a systemic issue that escalated over years of hopeful determination to achieve one thing or another, and I shan’t dwell on the psyche of it, as that’s the whole point of my previous pos. Its implication however with jaw and breathing dysfunction is speculative but pretty damn likely and aligns with every step I’ve taken to understand my body chemistry better.

So after my fitting last march, the treatment suspended and was not resumed again until September. Since then, it has gotten increasingly challenging. The good news is the treatment is estimated to be finished between 3-5 months’ time. Its currently costing me £250 a month, and I’ve had to sacrifice my holiday savings to budget for the coming months, (although who knows what holidays would be available this year anyway).

So that’s me in a nutshell, some days better than others, and I recently concluded it was pointless for me to pursue anything professionally until my skull stops hurting. Which is a good bassline for anyone aspiring person to work from. People have been through worse things, I’m just writing what I know, it’s about all I feel capable of doing lately.

I like to think of this like an extremely long drawn out supervised iowaska experience, where your mind and body is dragged through a series of nausea, pain and paranoia, until you come out the other side with intense euphoria, and a wholly positive outlook on the world.

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For whom it might ever be of relevance, my Artist Journal entires are now kept on my instagram/Facebook videos section, and the usual podcast platforms. Under either 'Martin Baker Art' or 'Passive Cha