Hiya, I’m CC
I carve metal, melt stories, and drag memory into matter.
Corrode & Crown is my workshop and my witness stand: jewellery builds, rage essays, field fragments, myth scraps, and cultural autopsies.
Common as muck. Crowned in ruin.
🔥 RockSolidOpinions
MODE: Polemic.
VOICE: Blunt, sardonic, personal-political.
STRUCTURE: Essays, rants, cultural autopsies, overheard nonsense turned indictment.
Blunt opinions, bile where it belongs, not satire for comfort but polemic with teeth. Cultural autopsies, rage pieces, overheard nonsense and personal rants. Gallows humour stitched with theory, sharpened by sarcasm, ridicule and wit. I drag culture into the light and sometimes drag myself with it. Hybrid nonfiction that blends philosophical argument, mythic commentary, autobiographical memory and a sermon-like literary voice. Expect depth, not fluff; indictment, not comedy.
This is my anchor journal.
My loudest voice.
My cultural scalpel.
🗝 The Ornamentarium
MODE: Making-lore.
VOICE: Maker, grafter, storyteller in metal.
STRUCTURE: Rough ideas, select builds, scraps of process, object notes, myth-links.
This is where I keep the jewellery side of my world. The bits I’m working on, the pieces that get finished, the things I melt, sand, swear at and occasionally wear. Not tutorials. Not step-by-step guides. Just the honest mix of it all. There will be wax blobs, patina tests, mood shots and on-body glimpses. You’ll find rough sketches, studio mess and metal thoughts. And the small stories that link a piece to the rest of my lore. A working record of what I’m making and what it’s turning into.
This is my metal scrapbook.
My graft in one place.
The proof I’m still building.
🌿 Garden Gods
MODE: Myth-making.
VOICE: Pantheons, creatures, deities, the land itself.
STRUCTURE: World-building, lore, myth-compression.
A pantheon of insects, flowers and feral divinities. Bickering gods, hostile roots, myth turned compost. World-building and character sketches from a garden that refuses to behave. Where essays decompose into myth. Most wander free; some are caged for those inside. Grief becomes fable. Rage becomes ritual.
This is my mythology engine.
The cosmology behind my cosmology.
⭐️ Field Fragments
MODE: Fragmentation.
VOICE: Lyrical, ritualistic, uncanny.
STRUCTURE: Shards, poems, corrupted lullabies, micro-incantations.
Scraps of corruption, myth and atmosphere stitched into whatever the rot drags in. Traditional(ish) poetry, corrupted lullabies, incantations and sea-shanty mutations. Short jolts. Ritual shards. Some pieces come with writer’s notes, the ritual chamber with the mask off. Scaffolding exposed, myth-making pulled apart. Think blooper reel. To get it, you need the DVD.
This is my ritual drawer.
My lyric engine.
Where the scraps speak.
💀 The Corpus Delicti
MODE: Testimony.
VOICE: Witnesses, survivors, artefacts becoming narrators.
STRUCTURE: Document-horror, bureaucratic rot, ontological confusion.
Fiction-as-testimony. Ontological essays, witness accounts and bureaucratic autopsies of grief, myth, memory and metaphysical rot. Narrated by survivors, objects-turned-people and landscapes learning to speak. Dense, suffocating horror-documents designed to mould under your ribs. No tidy arcs. No resolutions. No happy endings. Rot turned paperwork, stamped and filed.
This remains my heaviest journal.
My autopsy room.
My redacted archive.
🕯Parlour of Idioms
MODE: Folkloric microfiction.
VOICE: Characters born from idioms, proverbs, sayings — distorted folklore.
STRUCTURE: Standalone vignettes, dark-fantasy, British grotesque.
A cabinet of feral idioms and corrupted sayings. Dark-fantasy micro-stories and folkloric transformations stitched out of everyday language. Each idiom becomes a creature, a curse, a host. Brief, barbed tales with grim humour and uncanny domesticity. The parlour where language comes alive, bites back and asks who invited you.
This is my folklore laboratory.
Not myth, not testimony.
But good old language rot.