20 years ago, cycling alone in Norfolk on a blue sky day, staying at my boyfriends parents house, needing some headspace maybe. Looking up I saw a solitary swan, flying high above, pure white and distant, its long neck held out straight as an arrow.
Passing through Kings Cross prompts memories of a former life, as the timings for my Wakefield train coincide with announcements listing all the stations on route for the departing train to Kings Lynn. I once had a boyfriend at one of these stops and always think of him when hearing the announcements. This memory reappeared towards the end of my journey today, it lingered and got me pondering.
Monday, 20 February 2017
nostalgia
Two weeks ago today I went on a birthday walk with my sister. Off Oxford Street is Great Titchfield Street, where our Uncle Fred used to live. We found the doorway to his flat, then headed to the nearby BT Tower and onwards, past the cliff like edifice of the hospital I was born in to St Pancras, rising like a ships bow from the Euston Road.
Doorstep of Radiant House, Mortimer Street
Uncle Fred's doorway
BT Tower
University College Hospital
St Pancras
Friday, 27 January 2017
art social
This week I spent an enjoyable half hour engaging in an activity led by the Art Social young people's group at The Hepworth Wakefield. Art Social selected and placed four artworks in Gallery 1, producing interpretation text and poems to accompany the work. They invited gallery visitors to create their own poems using pre-written words. Below is my poem in response to A Picnic.
The Eva Rothschild sculpture bought back memories, as she was the first contemporary artist to exhibit in the gallery when THW opened in May 2011.
Eva Rothschild, Wandering Palm, 2011
Jesmonite, aluminium, patent leather
Albert Wainwright, A Picnic 1928
Ink & wash, watercolour on paper
Wednesday, 25 January 2017
Tuesday, 17 January 2017
Saturday, 31 December 2016
year word
Realising that I'd been working too hard in 2014 I gave 2015 the word FUN, and lived with that in mind during the year. In 2016 my word was SHARE, as I'd recognised a trait of self sabotage in negative self talk, gaging myself in expressing thoughts and ideas. So, in 2016, whenever I had an idea, wrote something, had a response to someone, positive or challenging, I shared it! Praising and naming qualities admired in others, calling others out if their behaviours were destructive in any way. Professionally, the result is 30 posts on this blog, 30 news updates on my website, a successful application for a residency, exhibiting in four exhibitions and developing a new body of work.
Emotionally, in telling my truth I've not allowed assumptions to be made. It was uncomfortable at times and in this discomfort was a new experience, of pushing against a boundary, of misbehaving and not being the good girl. Some friends have drawn closer, others become distant.
December was a relief, as I'd begun to tire of speaking my truth and will relish not telling. Not telling will feel different, it will be my choice if I allow assumptions to be made or allow the emotional intimacy of sharing my inner life, this is me - who are you?
Emotionally, in telling my truth I've not allowed assumptions to be made. It was uncomfortable at times and in this discomfort was a new experience, of pushing against a boundary, of misbehaving and not being the good girl. Some friends have drawn closer, others become distant.
December was a relief, as I'd begun to tire of speaking my truth and will relish not telling. Not telling will feel different, it will be my choice if I allow assumptions to be made or allow the emotional intimacy of sharing my inner life, this is me - who are you?
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