“Pandapa”, the Sock Panda: #25yearsonearth

(For those on my Instagram, you might see me posting a lot of digitally 'rejuvenated' images at the moment as I approach the big 25, along with quotes or references to old stories I've written that I'm fond of. Despite being a favourite character of sorts, this fella never had a proper story, so I … Continue reading “Pandapa”, the Sock Panda: #25yearsonearth

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FUNCTION II – Introduction

Warning: Contains Adult Content. Janet gave thanks to the Wolf as she took another deep drag. It was a miracle, it seemed to her, that the Wolf had been able to make any spliffs at all out of the grimy wasteland they had to call home, yet she had been able to do that, and … Continue reading FUNCTION II – Introduction

‘Rest’ (The Other Mr. Whitfield)

With fluctuating self-esteem, resting can be like confectionary. Recharging is like sugar, making you warm inside, calm about the future and its plans and in the moments of meditation. Then with all rises comes crashes. You become fidgety. Conscious that people might think you've given up trying or can't do as much as you used … Continue reading ‘Rest’ (The Other Mr. Whitfield)

The Other Mr. Whitfield: Heal

(Personal) We were atop Dartmoor five years ago now, in dryer if not more spectacular conditions. Not that it mattered: what was important was the rolling of round stones under our feet and the steady warmth emerging in our clasped hands. Togetherness felt effortless then. We were at the stage, then, where we could answer … Continue reading The Other Mr. Whitfield: Heal

Jak Whitfield Creative in 2018

Hi there everyone, What a year. Life, physically and creatively, has continued to relentlessly surprise and challenge. I've met some amazing people in the process, both online and in-person; everlasting thanks goes to you who follow me on this site, as many of you are consistently reading and liking my bizarre writings and drawings, and … Continue reading Jak Whitfield Creative in 2018

Nanowrimo ‘17: Race (to the end…)

Geoff was sure this was the end. He was now being stolen away with a rogue team of robotics, which had been a delirious and unaware decision, having only just come into consciousness. Behind them, no doubt, was a team of expert robotic assassins. He was their bartering chip, though somehow he thought his value … Continue reading Nanowrimo ‘17: Race (to the end…)