I wasn't going to blog about yoga, because i take it very seriously.
But tonight was an exception.
The whole purpose of yoga is that you think about your body and not the outside world. This allows you that little inner window that could be expanded and be called Peace. No matter what is going on around you, you should (with practice) be able to filter out any extraneous sound/activity and concerntrate on the minutiae of the asanas.
There used to be a group of people who sat outside the building drinking and shouting at each other. That was when i practised this technique.
Recently though, there has been a choir singing African songs/the hits of Paul Simon in the room down the hall. There was also a meeting of the Kippax Flat Earth Society in the adjoining room. (This joke is purely for the benefit of my sister and no-one else - i don't know who they were really.)
We were all trying our best with Akarna Dhanurasana.
Homeless Homeless
Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake
"Now bring your foot closer to your ear"
Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih
Somebody sing Hello Hello Hello
"..and closer if you can"
Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih Somebody cry Why Why Why
They actually came out into the hallway at one point. Their voices wrapping round us.
I didn't fare so well in Sirsasana. I was just getting to three minutes when i actually stopped thinking about the pose. I started thinking about something else entirely, and fell on my ass.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
F.E.A.R
This morning, Comedy Dave played Ian Brown's F.E.A.R on 'Tedious Link'. I have to admit i had tears rolling down my face. I absolutely love that song. It's one of those songs, which i wouldn't put on my i-pod (if i had one, which regrettably i don't). I wouldn't put it on my i-pod because i like to choose my moments for my favourite albums. Obviously i have played it many times since 2001, but i would hate to ruin it by hearing it too much. Also, it would be very inconvenient to be crying in that way, unexpectedly in inappropriate places.
I saw Mr. Brown perform that song on TV - i think it was that Eden Project gig last year. I really hope i get to see that for myself at some point. I cried then as well. My friend and i texted each other some of the lyrics like a couple of teenagers. There is nothing to say about Ian Brown that isn't a cliche, that hasn't been said before, so i'll stop now.
It seemed clear to the Pythagoreans that the distances between the planets would have the same ratios as produced harmonious sounds in a plucked string. To them, the solar system consisted of ten spheres revolving in circles about a central fire, each sphere giving off a sound the way a projectile makes a sound as it swished through the air: the closer spheres gave lower tones while the farther moved faster and gave higher pitched sounds. All combined into beautiful harmony, the music of the spheres.
I saw Mr. Brown perform that song on TV - i think it was that Eden Project gig last year. I really hope i get to see that for myself at some point. I cried then as well. My friend and i texted each other some of the lyrics like a couple of teenagers. There is nothing to say about Ian Brown that isn't a cliche, that hasn't been said before, so i'll stop now.
It seemed clear to the Pythagoreans that the distances between the planets would have the same ratios as produced harmonious sounds in a plucked string. To them, the solar system consisted of ten spheres revolving in circles about a central fire, each sphere giving off a sound the way a projectile makes a sound as it swished through the air: the closer spheres gave lower tones while the farther moved faster and gave higher pitched sounds. All combined into beautiful harmony, the music of the spheres.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Indian Prince
Yesterday i went for a walk in one of my favourite parks, and i saw a guy who keeps cropping up.
I first met him at the disaster-piece festival last summer. We were the only two people eating this terrible food from one of the few stalls that were there, at about 2am in the morning. He talked about what it was like being the only Indian guy where he had been to school in New Zealand.
Then he stopped me at Across the Tracks and said, "Hi, I knew i'd see you here! My girlfriend said, 'Well how are you going to remember what she looks like?' and i told her, 'I'll remember'."
So, yesterday he appears in the park with his girlfriend and three other girls. He kissed me on the cheek (platonically of course). But it all seemed too weird. I tried to make conversation with the girlfriends, but it was too much effort, so i said "Nice to see you" and went on my way.
I was actually going to the heather garden because my grandad's ashes were sprinkled there -I was going to ask him for some help with my love life. Over the last couple of years, it seems like i have had a sign above my head (that everyone but i can see) saying Men in Relationships, Please Apply Here.
I'm hoping that this is a phase of my life that will soon be replaced by some other, more satisfying phase that is not about what i cannot have.
I first met him at the disaster-piece festival last summer. We were the only two people eating this terrible food from one of the few stalls that were there, at about 2am in the morning. He talked about what it was like being the only Indian guy where he had been to school in New Zealand.
Then he stopped me at Across the Tracks and said, "Hi, I knew i'd see you here! My girlfriend said, 'Well how are you going to remember what she looks like?' and i told her, 'I'll remember'."
So, yesterday he appears in the park with his girlfriend and three other girls. He kissed me on the cheek (platonically of course). But it all seemed too weird. I tried to make conversation with the girlfriends, but it was too much effort, so i said "Nice to see you" and went on my way.
I was actually going to the heather garden because my grandad's ashes were sprinkled there -I was going to ask him for some help with my love life. Over the last couple of years, it seems like i have had a sign above my head (that everyone but i can see) saying Men in Relationships, Please Apply Here.
I'm hoping that this is a phase of my life that will soon be replaced by some other, more satisfying phase that is not about what i cannot have.
Friday, September 22, 2006
36 m.p.h
I can't believe this.
I just received a NOTICE OF INTENDED PROSECUTION
.............for speeding!!!!**
This is great. I can't describe the relish with which i filled in the back part, thereby providing my personal details for intended prosecution. I was only momentarily distracted by the fact that i can't afford to be fined for anything, never mind something as ridiculous as this.
The funniest bit is that i was only doing 36 in a 30 zone: there is leeway that allows you to go 5 over the speed limit, so in fact , technically, i was only 1 m.p.h.over!
"Your honour, there were extenuating circumstances. I had just been subjected to the lunacy of the woman i am about to buy a house from for over an hour! In addition to this, i was made late for an extremely important hair appointment. My hairdresser himself commented that I had never been late: in the whole 15 years that he has been cutting my hair, i have never once been late for an appointment."
This is so not rock and roll. Next time i'm on that stretch, i'm going to make sure i really put my foot on the pedal.
More haste.....
I just received a NOTICE OF INTENDED PROSECUTION
.............for speeding!!!!**
This is great. I can't describe the relish with which i filled in the back part, thereby providing my personal details for intended prosecution. I was only momentarily distracted by the fact that i can't afford to be fined for anything, never mind something as ridiculous as this.
The funniest bit is that i was only doing 36 in a 30 zone: there is leeway that allows you to go 5 over the speed limit, so in fact , technically, i was only 1 m.p.h.over!
"Your honour, there were extenuating circumstances. I had just been subjected to the lunacy of the woman i am about to buy a house from for over an hour! In addition to this, i was made late for an extremely important hair appointment. My hairdresser himself commented that I had never been late: in the whole 15 years that he has been cutting my hair, i have never once been late for an appointment."
This is so not rock and roll. Next time i'm on that stretch, i'm going to make sure i really put my foot on the pedal.
More haste.....
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Who's that lady?
I have finally found an image for my profile!
Girls: some of you may recognise this woman.
Guys: you may have to ask your girlfriend or girl friend.
She's the woman who hides those things which should not be seen to come out.
Inevitably though, all things which are held inside for a time, must come out. Even those things which are most often thought of as unpleasant, even nasty; that are not that socially acceptable or desired to be seen in public, should have a place to go.
She's the woman who gives those things a place to hide.
Crinoline skirts- perfect for concealing all manner of secrets!
God, i love my own jokes.
Girls: some of you may recognise this woman.
Guys: you may have to ask your girlfriend or girl friend.
She's the woman who hides those things which should not be seen to come out.
Inevitably though, all things which are held inside for a time, must come out. Even those things which are most often thought of as unpleasant, even nasty; that are not that socially acceptable or desired to be seen in public, should have a place to go.
She's the woman who gives those things a place to hide.
Crinoline skirts- perfect for concealing all manner of secrets!
God, i love my own jokes.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Chile Day
My friend invited me to her house for Chile Day. We ate fantastic food with her family and friends, and we danced till 2 am. The older couples danced La cuenta to traditional Chilean music with white handkerchiefs for dramatic emphasis. Their children put on Brasilian and reggae variations of the same. The next generation down fought in a heap over the contents of the pinyata.
I had to dance barefoot in the end because my boots were restricting my feet.
There was a boy from the Dominican Republic who had me completely entranced. He was beautiful and he managed to lead the whole room when he was dancing. He danced with all the older women in a way that was sexy enough to be flattering but respectful at the same time. I looked at his hand on a woman's back. It made kind of an 'S' shape as he held her. He was guiding her in a really subtle but amazing way. He was setting a limit for her body without restricting the ebb and flow of the dance.
The father of one of the gorgeous Latino girls told me about growing up in a shanty town in Chile. His parents had no money and sent him out to look for food. He did not find food as often as he found books, and he taught himself to read English and French.
In order to stop Pinochet's special police force from literally washing out their homes with water cannons, the people of la favela erected a Chilean Flag in it's centre. This made the site untouchable and they named the shanty La Victoria. A. is writing the stories of his childhood, and has said he will show me the photos he took recently when he returned to visit the place in which he grew up.
This week is an different anniversary for the Chilean people. A. said that Allende was a socialist and told me that when he saw the twin towers go down he thought he was watching a re-run of a bad disaster movie. He was not happy to see those people die, he said, but that date should also remind the US of what they did to Chile.
I had to dance barefoot in the end because my boots were restricting my feet.
There was a boy from the Dominican Republic who had me completely entranced. He was beautiful and he managed to lead the whole room when he was dancing. He danced with all the older women in a way that was sexy enough to be flattering but respectful at the same time. I looked at his hand on a woman's back. It made kind of an 'S' shape as he held her. He was guiding her in a really subtle but amazing way. He was setting a limit for her body without restricting the ebb and flow of the dance.
The father of one of the gorgeous Latino girls told me about growing up in a shanty town in Chile. His parents had no money and sent him out to look for food. He did not find food as often as he found books, and he taught himself to read English and French.
In order to stop Pinochet's special police force from literally washing out their homes with water cannons, the people of la favela erected a Chilean Flag in it's centre. This made the site untouchable and they named the shanty La Victoria. A. is writing the stories of his childhood, and has said he will show me the photos he took recently when he returned to visit the place in which he grew up.
This week is an different anniversary for the Chilean people. A. said that Allende was a socialist and told me that when he saw the twin towers go down he thought he was watching a re-run of a bad disaster movie. He was not happy to see those people die, he said, but that date should also remind the US of what they did to Chile.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Mary
Things are looking up.
Today Radio One had their Scissor Sisters day.
Now i have mixed feelings about the Scissor Sisters. When i first heard them i thought, 'Why would you need these guys when you could just listen to Elton John?'
However, driving home from work tonight listening to Scott Mills, i thought it would be really good if they performed 'Mary'. It's the only song of theirs that i really like. It could actually be considered to be a fitting tribute to Elton circa 1973 rather than just completely replicating his sound. It has that combination of swirly electronic break and heartfelt piano that Elton did so well.
When they played it, i felt like a small wish had come true.
We could all do with more of that now couldn't we?
Today Radio One had their Scissor Sisters day.
Now i have mixed feelings about the Scissor Sisters. When i first heard them i thought, 'Why would you need these guys when you could just listen to Elton John?'
However, driving home from work tonight listening to Scott Mills, i thought it would be really good if they performed 'Mary'. It's the only song of theirs that i really like. It could actually be considered to be a fitting tribute to Elton circa 1973 rather than just completely replicating his sound. It has that combination of swirly electronic break and heartfelt piano that Elton did so well.
When they played it, i felt like a small wish had come true.
We could all do with more of that now couldn't we?
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Losing the plot
I'm extremely unsettled at the moment. I think I'm on the brink of massive changes, but it's not happening soon enough as far as i'm concerned. My copying paranoia has been activated.
Therapist: Let's reframe this particular destructive tendency. After all it stops you from sharing things with people.
Nina: Okay... (desperate to get rid of it).
Therapist: You could look at it as influencing people in a positive way.
Nina: Go on. (thinks- please don't say 'Imitation is the best form of flattery.')
Therapist: After all, you've probably been influenced by many people in many ways yourself. Think of it as generosity, you could just let it go.
Maybe i just need to get laid.
Not laid by just anyone though. Laid by someone who i really, really want. Someone who really, really wants me.
There's only so long a girl can last on just masturbation and chocolate.
Therapist: Let's reframe this particular destructive tendency. After all it stops you from sharing things with people.
Nina: Okay... (desperate to get rid of it).
Therapist: You could look at it as influencing people in a positive way.
Nina: Go on. (thinks- please don't say 'Imitation is the best form of flattery.')
Therapist: After all, you've probably been influenced by many people in many ways yourself. Think of it as generosity, you could just let it go.
Maybe i just need to get laid.
Not laid by just anyone though. Laid by someone who i really, really want. Someone who really, really wants me.
There's only so long a girl can last on just masturbation and chocolate.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Where were you?
This day five years ago, i was coming back from a job interview and was calling my friend to update her. It had sounded like a teaching job with some technicians duties, but it turned out to be a technicians job, with some teaching duties. She said, "Just switch on the television a minute. There's a plane flying into a building."
We watched the plane gliding towards the towers and felt the resulting mayhem and confusion. Like everyone else, i then couldn't turn the TV off. I had been thinking of quitting my masters degree, and the programme director rang me (a minute after i put the phone down) to tell me not to leave, to take as long as i needed to finish. It was good advice, ten months later i wrote a brilliant dissertation on Sophie Calle.
I'm aware that there are tragedies and massive loss of life all over the world - and far too often; but there is something about this image that has retained it's shock value. Despite it's endless replaying, it never suffers from compassion fatigue. As well as this, this event was one which revealed one of the primary functions of blogging.
If you'd like to put the whole thing back together again, you should look at this film clip by artist Runa Islam.
We watched the plane gliding towards the towers and felt the resulting mayhem and confusion. Like everyone else, i then couldn't turn the TV off. I had been thinking of quitting my masters degree, and the programme director rang me (a minute after i put the phone down) to tell me not to leave, to take as long as i needed to finish. It was good advice, ten months later i wrote a brilliant dissertation on Sophie Calle.
I'm aware that there are tragedies and massive loss of life all over the world - and far too often; but there is something about this image that has retained it's shock value. Despite it's endless replaying, it never suffers from compassion fatigue. As well as this, this event was one which revealed one of the primary functions of blogging.
If you'd like to put the whole thing back together again, you should look at this film clip by artist Runa Islam.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Dark, Dark, Dark
I didn't do what i was supposed to do this weekend. I've let myself be consumed by that thing that makes me look at everything as though under a microscope.
I was supposed to go and stay with N and Dimitri. I want to write about Dimitri, or make a film about their life or something. But i didn't go. The self-destruct button had been leaned on. I convinced myself that i could not do it, that the circumstances were not right: so here i am. Things are not as they should be in my life. I feel like i need somone to help, i can't do it all on my own anymore. I'm in fucking pain and i need it to go away. I can rationalize and see that i am healthy and intelligent and in many ways blessed but it does not make the slightest bit of difference when i feel like this.
I know that this will go away, and that it doesn't even last as long as it used to, but i cannot help but mourn for all that wasted time.
I was supposed to go and stay with N and Dimitri. I want to write about Dimitri, or make a film about their life or something. But i didn't go. The self-destruct button had been leaned on. I convinced myself that i could not do it, that the circumstances were not right: so here i am. Things are not as they should be in my life. I feel like i need somone to help, i can't do it all on my own anymore. I'm in fucking pain and i need it to go away. I can rationalize and see that i am healthy and intelligent and in many ways blessed but it does not make the slightest bit of difference when i feel like this.
I know that this will go away, and that it doesn't even last as long as it used to, but i cannot help but mourn for all that wasted time.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Sting in the.....
It's the story on the lips of school children world-wide.
Steve Irwin is dead.
A real life super-hero has been defeated. The man wrestled crocodiles; it was highly theatrical but undeniably real. His death is also spectacular in it's nature. A wierd reversal of the Dracula myth, we see him pulling the barb from his heart. We don't need to see the TV show footage. We can see it all. I've already seen the tape of the last moments, I've already seen the film of his life with it's dramatic and upsetting finale.
I wonder did he write his own plot? Did he think he was invincible or did he always have a sneaking suspicion that he would die in bizarre circumstances, doing what he was famous for?
I've just realised the idiocy of what i've just said. People who take more than the average quota of risk probably don't go round speculating on their own death any more than anyone else does. I don't know what i'm trying to say here. There are just some images that are collectively compelling, and oddly, this is one.
Steve Irwin is dead.
A real life super-hero has been defeated. The man wrestled crocodiles; it was highly theatrical but undeniably real. His death is also spectacular in it's nature. A wierd reversal of the Dracula myth, we see him pulling the barb from his heart. We don't need to see the TV show footage. We can see it all. I've already seen the tape of the last moments, I've already seen the film of his life with it's dramatic and upsetting finale.
I wonder did he write his own plot? Did he think he was invincible or did he always have a sneaking suspicion that he would die in bizarre circumstances, doing what he was famous for?
I've just realised the idiocy of what i've just said. People who take more than the average quota of risk probably don't go round speculating on their own death any more than anyone else does. I don't know what i'm trying to say here. There are just some images that are collectively compelling, and oddly, this is one.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
The story so far
One of my objectives for last weekend was to put up some posters advertising my new storytelling project. I'm looking for people to tell me stories about a particular bar, with which i have had a long and meaningful relationship.
So, off i go, posters at the ready, camera in hand; to the big city.
I completely bottled it. I went home, not having visited any of the carefully picked destinations on my itinerary. When it came down to it, i was really scared that once i start this, i'm going to have to do it. And although i think this is a great idea, i was immobilised with fear. The gremlin of self -doubt was muttering in my ear.
I tried not to berate myself further and went to see SOAP, going for a drink afterwards. Looking down the pub to my left, i saw two guys who had been practically permanent fixtures in the bar in question. It was like something from a film. A perfect segue in the plot. I didn't even know their names, but i remembered their faces. One of them was bursting to tell me his story, but i managed to persuade him to save it.
I love it when an idea has a life of it's own, then you know you're on to something.
So, off i go, posters at the ready, camera in hand; to the big city.
I completely bottled it. I went home, not having visited any of the carefully picked destinations on my itinerary. When it came down to it, i was really scared that once i start this, i'm going to have to do it. And although i think this is a great idea, i was immobilised with fear. The gremlin of self -doubt was muttering in my ear.
I tried not to berate myself further and went to see SOAP, going for a drink afterwards. Looking down the pub to my left, i saw two guys who had been practically permanent fixtures in the bar in question. It was like something from a film. A perfect segue in the plot. I didn't even know their names, but i remembered their faces. One of them was bursting to tell me his story, but i managed to persuade him to save it.
I love it when an idea has a life of it's own, then you know you're on to something.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
For Kay (Mellor or Richardson)
I was coming home from town, using public transport. I was just sitting there reflecting (in a pretty patronising way) how anyone who wants to write should travel on public transport 'keeping it real'- y' know. I was thinking that writers (once they have become successful) probably never do this, except if they live in London because everyone rides the tube in London.
So, i was thinking, 'Step aside Kay Mellor etc., it's time to let someone else (er, that'd be me then) have their say!'
I was sitting close to the back, upstairs -Mistake Number One.
Five young men in baseball caps and casual sports wear got on. After shouting out of the window and calling their friends (who had not managed to catch the bus) cunts, they sat down behind me and regaled the top deck with the story of how they had just bumped into the girl that one of them lost his virginity to. It descended into a dialogue about shaved pussy. One of them had one of those balloons that zips around making a loud noise: note the weird juxtaposition of childish activity and sexually explicit conversation- freaky.
The balloon thing kept whizzing round the back of my head, and the nearest one to me said to balloon boy, 'Hey, i'd laugh if that woman came over and smacked you one for doing that.'
Mistake Number Two: I laughed.
But it was funny! The very idea of me going over and cracking some kid round the head on a bus! Fucking hilarious!
Anyway, he saw me laughing and then leaned over and said, 'D'you want me to hit him for you love?'
It was at this point that i realised that this wasn't a threat, he was flirting with me!!*** He followed this by asking me where i lived!!!***???
This was both frightening and hilarious at the same time. Hilarious because i am old enough to be this guys mother; and frightening because i realised we were propelling ever forward towards my home. I sat there thinking maybe i should get off at the stop after my own. Then i got all street and thought, 'No, i'm not doing that. I'm a big woman, they're sixteen year old boys.'
As i stood up to get off they all started jumping around and shouting, 'Fucking hell, she gets off at our stop. Where d'you live love? Where d'you live?' and then listing all the names of the streets nearby. I have not often felt that particular combination of wetting myself with laughter and crapping myself with fear.
I was saved by the fact that they weren't going straight home, and i watched the bus pull away with five kids in baseball caps banging and shouting towards me from the upstairs window of the 49 bus.
Suburbia here i come.
So, i was thinking, 'Step aside Kay Mellor etc., it's time to let someone else (er, that'd be me then) have their say!'
I was sitting close to the back, upstairs -Mistake Number One.
Five young men in baseball caps and casual sports wear got on. After shouting out of the window and calling their friends (who had not managed to catch the bus) cunts, they sat down behind me and regaled the top deck with the story of how they had just bumped into the girl that one of them lost his virginity to. It descended into a dialogue about shaved pussy. One of them had one of those balloons that zips around making a loud noise: note the weird juxtaposition of childish activity and sexually explicit conversation- freaky.
The balloon thing kept whizzing round the back of my head, and the nearest one to me said to balloon boy, 'Hey, i'd laugh if that woman came over and smacked you one for doing that.'
Mistake Number Two: I laughed.
But it was funny! The very idea of me going over and cracking some kid round the head on a bus! Fucking hilarious!
Anyway, he saw me laughing and then leaned over and said, 'D'you want me to hit him for you love?'
It was at this point that i realised that this wasn't a threat, he was flirting with me!!*** He followed this by asking me where i lived!!!***???
This was both frightening and hilarious at the same time. Hilarious because i am old enough to be this guys mother; and frightening because i realised we were propelling ever forward towards my home. I sat there thinking maybe i should get off at the stop after my own. Then i got all street and thought, 'No, i'm not doing that. I'm a big woman, they're sixteen year old boys.'
As i stood up to get off they all started jumping around and shouting, 'Fucking hell, she gets off at our stop. Where d'you live love? Where d'you live?' and then listing all the names of the streets nearby. I have not often felt that particular combination of wetting myself with laughter and crapping myself with fear.
I was saved by the fact that they weren't going straight home, and i watched the bus pull away with five kids in baseball caps banging and shouting towards me from the upstairs window of the 49 bus.
Suburbia here i come.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Blogstipation
Okay, who wants to hear about what i did over the holiday weekend?
Phone lines are open; you can vote for the story of your choice by leaving me a message in the comments!
Do you want to hear how
Phone lines are open; you can vote for the story of your choice by leaving me a message in the comments!
Do you want to hear how
- I got chatted up by some sixteen year old chavs on the bus?
- I got soaked at carnival?
- I got my new storytelling project underway?
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Courting
My first memory of this guy is thinking, 'I must have him. Girlfriend or no girlfriend.'
In the beginning i used to joke about it, but i stopped when i realised i meant it. Right from the start, i've always had this overwhelming desire to have some kind of physical contact with him-when he has held my hand, it feels like i'm holding my own hand.
I also really like it when he's in the building. I like to hear his voice if i'm upstairs and he's down.
When he told me how he felt about me, he pretty much described word for word what i had been thinking and not saying for nine months.
I have often wondered if i'm addicted to unrequited love-too much Thomas Hardy at an impressionable age.
I don't know what to do with it, this stuff, it doesn't go in a box.
He said he didn't want to end up on my blog. I can only apologise, in advance, but this is where i get to say what i need to say.
When i was a little girl, my grandad used to tease me by asking me if i was courting. This is the guy that my grandad would have wanted me to be with.
This part of the blog is getting ridiculously soppy, and for that, i can only apologise again.
In the beginning i used to joke about it, but i stopped when i realised i meant it. Right from the start, i've always had this overwhelming desire to have some kind of physical contact with him-when he has held my hand, it feels like i'm holding my own hand.
I also really like it when he's in the building. I like to hear his voice if i'm upstairs and he's down.
When he told me how he felt about me, he pretty much described word for word what i had been thinking and not saying for nine months.
I have often wondered if i'm addicted to unrequited love-too much Thomas Hardy at an impressionable age.
I don't know what to do with it, this stuff, it doesn't go in a box.
He said he didn't want to end up on my blog. I can only apologise, in advance, but this is where i get to say what i need to say.
When i was a little girl, my grandad used to tease me by asking me if i was courting. This is the guy that my grandad would have wanted me to be with.
This part of the blog is getting ridiculously soppy, and for that, i can only apologise again.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Photos of me
A friend of mine recently sent me a really nice photo of me.
I don't have many photo's of me, as I'm usually on the other side of the camera. I (half jokingly) asked him to send me every photo he had ever taken of me.
It was really weird. The other half of me (that wasn't joking) was absolutely loving the fact that i could have access to the, previously unattainable, 'how other people see you'.
It's the Big Brother effect. It's the lure of that other perspective- that is not unlocked in everyday life. This is why i admit that i think Big Brother is genius. If i had come up with that idea; i would consider myself the keeper of the zeitgeist.
Anyone who looks down on that aspect of reality television is suffering from reverse snobbery. I don't see what's wrong with admitting that you want to be loved. That's what you hear time and time over in BB, "i just want to be accepted for who i am."
We all do that: at work; when blogging; in our social lives. I'm not above that.
Perhaps it's a particularly British thing - not showing emotion in public, not admitting that you have desire (whether that be for money,love or sex). They're just doing it more openly. You could look at it as sharing.
I've been getting a guilty sort of pleasure from looking at those photo's. It allows me to love myself a little bit more. I don't think there's anything wrong about that.
I don't have many photo's of me, as I'm usually on the other side of the camera. I (half jokingly) asked him to send me every photo he had ever taken of me.
It was really weird. The other half of me (that wasn't joking) was absolutely loving the fact that i could have access to the, previously unattainable, 'how other people see you'.
It's the Big Brother effect. It's the lure of that other perspective- that is not unlocked in everyday life. This is why i admit that i think Big Brother is genius. If i had come up with that idea; i would consider myself the keeper of the zeitgeist.
Anyone who looks down on that aspect of reality television is suffering from reverse snobbery. I don't see what's wrong with admitting that you want to be loved. That's what you hear time and time over in BB, "i just want to be accepted for who i am."
We all do that: at work; when blogging; in our social lives. I'm not above that.
Perhaps it's a particularly British thing - not showing emotion in public, not admitting that you have desire (whether that be for money,love or sex). They're just doing it more openly. You could look at it as sharing.
I've been getting a guilty sort of pleasure from looking at those photo's. It allows me to love myself a little bit more. I don't think there's anything wrong about that.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Blogging
I wasn't going to write about blogging because i thought it would be like one of those pictures that i really liked when i was a kid- you know the ones: it's a picture of a room, and on the wall there's a picture of a room with a picture of a room on the wall, and in that room ....and on and on forever.
Well i changed my mind.
Blogging is the thing that's been missing from my life since i was thirteen! It's a place to put all that miscellaneous STUFF that there isn't really anywhere to put. I've always kept diaries but 'What's the point in that??!!' They're under your bed in a box and no one ever reads them (except the person that you absolutely don't want to read them) and then it causes loads of trouble and it's all really dramatic.
This way you get to say whatever you want-and you're not hiding it, in fact, the opposite- you are inviting people to read it, "Come on, have a look inside my soul!"
All of this would be true if i weren't doing this anonymously. It would be true if i were inviting my colleagues and friends and family to read this, but i'm not. I'm not writing for people i know, i'm writing for people i don't know.
What's that all about then?
Well i changed my mind.
Blogging is the thing that's been missing from my life since i was thirteen! It's a place to put all that miscellaneous STUFF that there isn't really anywhere to put. I've always kept diaries but 'What's the point in that??!!' They're under your bed in a box and no one ever reads them (except the person that you absolutely don't want to read them) and then it causes loads of trouble and it's all really dramatic.
This way you get to say whatever you want-and you're not hiding it, in fact, the opposite- you are inviting people to read it, "Come on, have a look inside my soul!"
All of this would be true if i weren't doing this anonymously. It would be true if i were inviting my colleagues and friends and family to read this, but i'm not. I'm not writing for people i know, i'm writing for people i don't know.
What's that all about then?
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Petite Anglaise
...is a blogger who got sacked when her employer discovered her site, and is now getting a book deal.
I was reading her entry of 14.07.06 which describes her 'feeling good about being alone' after splitting with her partner. The comments that follow are congratulatory, especially that she has reached this point so quickly.
Why does everyone else's life read like fiction to me?
There's lots of romantic symbolism about her new apartment and the freedom to choose her own paint colours. I'm about to embark on my third house move alone and i can tell you that aesthetic decisions like that are not a measure of your inner freedom. I mean, i'm the first one to admit that your environment affects your psyche (and therefore concievably your external life) but fucking hell. I think it would be more realistic to say that enjoying your new found 'freedom' as a single parent is just that- it's new found, it's novelty/romantic value is a phase of breaking up with someone- it's not something you earned yourself, it's a side effect!
It's obviously helping her get through it (and i shouldn't be such a bitch). The word 'bitter' comes to mind. I'm not bitter, i have admitted for at least the past two years that i don't want to be single any more. This is a separate issue from enjoying your singularity as i see it. I have lots of really good friends, i love my social life and after many years of repair work on this, i have a close family also.
She says that there isn't enough of her to go round: because she's a single parent!!??
This is why i am the antithesis of Bridget Jones: there's too fucking much of me for any one person. Now i sound like one of those wierd polygamists. What i mean is, that when i meet someone i sincerely hope to retain all the qualities of singularity listed above. I want to share everything with somebody, my soul mate, but i have no intention of giving up all the other things that ten years of being single has provided me with- and want to meet my equal in that respect.
Have i got ridiculously high expectations?
Perhaps that's why I'm still on my own.
I was reading her entry of 14.07.06 which describes her 'feeling good about being alone' after splitting with her partner. The comments that follow are congratulatory, especially that she has reached this point so quickly.
Why does everyone else's life read like fiction to me?
There's lots of romantic symbolism about her new apartment and the freedom to choose her own paint colours. I'm about to embark on my third house move alone and i can tell you that aesthetic decisions like that are not a measure of your inner freedom. I mean, i'm the first one to admit that your environment affects your psyche (and therefore concievably your external life) but fucking hell. I think it would be more realistic to say that enjoying your new found 'freedom' as a single parent is just that- it's new found, it's novelty/romantic value is a phase of breaking up with someone- it's not something you earned yourself, it's a side effect!
It's obviously helping her get through it (and i shouldn't be such a bitch). The word 'bitter' comes to mind. I'm not bitter, i have admitted for at least the past two years that i don't want to be single any more. This is a separate issue from enjoying your singularity as i see it. I have lots of really good friends, i love my social life and after many years of repair work on this, i have a close family also.
She says that there isn't enough of her to go round: because she's a single parent!!??
This is why i am the antithesis of Bridget Jones: there's too fucking much of me for any one person. Now i sound like one of those wierd polygamists. What i mean is, that when i meet someone i sincerely hope to retain all the qualities of singularity listed above. I want to share everything with somebody, my soul mate, but i have no intention of giving up all the other things that ten years of being single has provided me with- and want to meet my equal in that respect.
Have i got ridiculously high expectations?
Perhaps that's why I'm still on my own.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Veneer
I was listening to Jose Gonzales 'Veneer' and thinking something that i've thought a million times. I was thinking that i really like those bits in recordings of guitar music when you hear the fingers sliding, squeaking, up and down the guitar strings in between the finger positions. I love the fact that you can hear that, and i love the fact that as technology advances those in between bits are posssibly going to get more and more audible. It's a democracy of sound- that those bits are as valid as the actual music itself.
It also reminds me of another bit i love. i love the bit where Paul McCartney laughs in 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer'. I's not my favourite song (although it is my favoutite Beatles album)-not by any means- but i love the bit where you can hear him unable to supress an outburst in the line, "Writing fi-hi-(laughs)fty times, 'I must not be so-o-o-o'."
I wonder if he he was laughing at the ridiculousness of the song; the fact that he has to sing it like it's a music hall farce. Obviously George Martin was way ahead of his time (and now sadly techonlogy is disturbing him as it catches up with his art) and i love the fact that they left that in for people to discover.
It's those in between bits that i live for. The bits in between what's supposed to be happening. I love those.
It also reminds me of another bit i love. i love the bit where Paul McCartney laughs in 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer'. I's not my favourite song (although it is my favoutite Beatles album)-not by any means- but i love the bit where you can hear him unable to supress an outburst in the line, "Writing fi-hi-(laughs)fty times, 'I must not be so-o-o-o'."
I wonder if he he was laughing at the ridiculousness of the song; the fact that he has to sing it like it's a music hall farce. Obviously George Martin was way ahead of his time (and now sadly techonlogy is disturbing him as it catches up with his art) and i love the fact that they left that in for people to discover.
It's those in between bits that i live for. The bits in between what's supposed to be happening. I love those.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Across the Tracks
There were two extreme ends of the festival for me. One was Roy Ayers and the other was Jamie Lidell.
We had to go and see Roy because he's part of our musical history. Even if it was just for 'Everybody loves the sunshine', you have to give him credit. Any song that has that kind of endurance (30 years in this case) has to be saying something important to lots of people.
His band were incredible. I nearly cried in one of the sax solos (which sounds really crass now). At one point the drummer, who had done this electrifying solo spot where you couldn't even see his hands, then balanced one stick on his head and carried on playing; came out to the front of the stage and drummed with the sticks on the floor- right the way back to his kit and carried on playing. The bass player played the thing like a guitar, and at one point everyone on stage got down on the floor -laying further down to a deeper and deeper chord. And Roy was so clearly loving what he was doing that of course we all loved him back. I have some great footage of this if you want to see it. We were standing at the very edge of the press area.
I only went to see Jamie Lidell on the recommendation of a guy called M who tells me stuff to listen to when I see him in the place where i go to get my lunch. The set was in one of the waterside arches which has been made into a club. It's all hot and fucked up and there's a really strong smell of rotten fruit. Jamie's in the middle of something when we walk in. He's beatboxing unintelligible sounds and playing keyboard at the same time. He also has a VJ with him on stage. It's packed in there and we can't get anywhere near the front. People are also queuing outside. He gets a mad response. In the middle of the next track he comes out to the front of the stage and sings with this deep soul voice that doesn't look like it could be coming from a white boy wearing a silk smoking jacket. Then he goes back and carries on with this really dark electronic stuff.
M is going to do me a CD.
We had to go and see Roy because he's part of our musical history. Even if it was just for 'Everybody loves the sunshine', you have to give him credit. Any song that has that kind of endurance (30 years in this case) has to be saying something important to lots of people.
His band were incredible. I nearly cried in one of the sax solos (which sounds really crass now). At one point the drummer, who had done this electrifying solo spot where you couldn't even see his hands, then balanced one stick on his head and carried on playing; came out to the front of the stage and drummed with the sticks on the floor- right the way back to his kit and carried on playing. The bass player played the thing like a guitar, and at one point everyone on stage got down on the floor -laying further down to a deeper and deeper chord. And Roy was so clearly loving what he was doing that of course we all loved him back. I have some great footage of this if you want to see it. We were standing at the very edge of the press area.
I only went to see Jamie Lidell on the recommendation of a guy called M who tells me stuff to listen to when I see him in the place where i go to get my lunch. The set was in one of the waterside arches which has been made into a club. It's all hot and fucked up and there's a really strong smell of rotten fruit. Jamie's in the middle of something when we walk in. He's beatboxing unintelligible sounds and playing keyboard at the same time. He also has a VJ with him on stage. It's packed in there and we can't get anywhere near the front. People are also queuing outside. He gets a mad response. In the middle of the next track he comes out to the front of the stage and sings with this deep soul voice that doesn't look like it could be coming from a white boy wearing a silk smoking jacket. Then he goes back and carries on with this really dark electronic stuff.
M is going to do me a CD.
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