Sunday 30 October 2011
Friends pods
and finding more Djs. Yum Yum Yum. I need a night of lights.
Oliver Huntemann, spangly and delish. A literal kitchen pod surpise. I like beeps and twiddles
Oliver Huntemann, spangly and delish. A literal kitchen pod surpise. I like beeps and twiddles
I don't know really what to say
Well of course I know what I want to say, what to say-there are 1,000,000 things. But they are too scary. There has been too much change.
As I listen to Tom Hanks, I think of love. Words of love, like snow. Autumn is missing winter, I crave for the cold. I see red and blue, the light grey and pink sky-it's no longer filled with pink fog anymore.
'I wanted it to be you so badly'...
I feel empty, filled and shallow. I don't know where it has all gone. I wish I could say more, it this drowned?
So many people want to scream at you when all I would say to them is be quiet. They don't know, you.
I mean, it's all over, isn't it?! I shouldn't even be asking when the answer is clear-ish. Perhaps I need a smack in the face-do I see the other side yet and is there even one? Stuck stuck stuck, choice or phase? There should be no signs, only memories-but I want to make more of the same kind. When two situations exist, one in each hand and another more in selfs control. Well. Well. Settle down.
You know I write for you this time. In hope? Or shudder. No 'thing' can take me out of this one. It's early days, right?
As I listen to Tom Hanks, I think of love. Words of love, like snow. Autumn is missing winter, I crave for the cold. I see red and blue, the light grey and pink sky-it's no longer filled with pink fog anymore.
'I wanted it to be you so badly'...
I feel empty, filled and shallow. I don't know where it has all gone. I wish I could say more, it this drowned?
So many people want to scream at you when all I would say to them is be quiet. They don't know, you.
I mean, it's all over, isn't it?! I shouldn't even be asking when the answer is clear-ish. Perhaps I need a smack in the face-do I see the other side yet and is there even one? Stuck stuck stuck, choice or phase? There should be no signs, only memories-but I want to make more of the same kind. When two situations exist, one in each hand and another more in selfs control. Well. Well. Settle down.
You know I write for you this time. In hope? Or shudder. No 'thing' can take me out of this one. It's early days, right?
Friday 28 October 2011
Thursday 27 October 2011
Wednesday 26 October 2011
Life long answers
Life seems to be all about finding a purpose, but when we don't feel like we have a purpose we end up looking for answers-which we don't get until we find our purpose.
Our brains are like mazes, we all have mind maps. It would seem (of course only I can base this on my experience) that the more experience, good or bad-for me mostly traumatic experiences, are really opened doors of the maze. It's like we have always had these pathways built for us, but only when a particular event happens, these doors open and we choose to take that path or walk towards another one.
I wonder whether particular experiences open these doors up quicker-portals linked to chemical feelings. Drugs perhaps, after all I have read so many articles about an individuals experience on a substance which led them thinking of a better way of life, an alternative to what they already knew. A gain?
It would be too simple to write and debate whether the legalisation of drugs should/would benefit society. Why not narrow it down to whether trying and teasing the brain with a small amount of substance would benefit the mind? You could say these words sound like someone who has tried and tested, and is looking for an excuse to allow certain desires. How about I look at it from the view of a legal substance, alcohol. Who doesn't turn to this whether it's conscious or subconscious to escape from a vile reality?
We drink when we have had a good day, we drink when we have had a bad day. Why? To soothe the brain and bring out other parts of us we rather like against other parts we don't. We drink to enhance a situation. Have you felt a certain part of you suddenly click or feel at ease during this taste? Could we say that substances could allow the mind to realise certain perspectives quicker, are our doors opened faster this way? See, I don't think there is a harm as long as an addiction doesn't occur or accidental overdose. A hangover is an overdose-your body can't cope with the amount of alcohol that you need to process. Unfortunately with drugs this 'hangover' is induced quicker if too much is taken and can result in something more fatal. This all said without regarding long terms effects, but would long term effects exist if abuse, addiction and extreme long term use didn't occur in the first place? Our bodies have a way of healing when something so small has been tried and tested.
In a world currently filled with exciting development mirroring an economic crisis-how can development exist if the world is surely breaking? Crumbling...
I guess we are all tools and pivots making our own glue.
Our brains are like mazes, we all have mind maps. It would seem (of course only I can base this on my experience) that the more experience, good or bad-for me mostly traumatic experiences, are really opened doors of the maze. It's like we have always had these pathways built for us, but only when a particular event happens, these doors open and we choose to take that path or walk towards another one.
I wonder whether particular experiences open these doors up quicker-portals linked to chemical feelings. Drugs perhaps, after all I have read so many articles about an individuals experience on a substance which led them thinking of a better way of life, an alternative to what they already knew. A gain?
It would be too simple to write and debate whether the legalisation of drugs should/would benefit society. Why not narrow it down to whether trying and teasing the brain with a small amount of substance would benefit the mind? You could say these words sound like someone who has tried and tested, and is looking for an excuse to allow certain desires. How about I look at it from the view of a legal substance, alcohol. Who doesn't turn to this whether it's conscious or subconscious to escape from a vile reality?
We drink when we have had a good day, we drink when we have had a bad day. Why? To soothe the brain and bring out other parts of us we rather like against other parts we don't. We drink to enhance a situation. Have you felt a certain part of you suddenly click or feel at ease during this taste? Could we say that substances could allow the mind to realise certain perspectives quicker, are our doors opened faster this way? See, I don't think there is a harm as long as an addiction doesn't occur or accidental overdose. A hangover is an overdose-your body can't cope with the amount of alcohol that you need to process. Unfortunately with drugs this 'hangover' is induced quicker if too much is taken and can result in something more fatal. This all said without regarding long terms effects, but would long term effects exist if abuse, addiction and extreme long term use didn't occur in the first place? Our bodies have a way of healing when something so small has been tried and tested.
In a world currently filled with exciting development mirroring an economic crisis-how can development exist if the world is surely breaking? Crumbling...
I guess we are all tools and pivots making our own glue.
The second city
I can't work out if I am bored, restless, sad or anxious. There's this force saying 'go home, you don't know what to do with yourself.' But there's also a force saying 'stay out, home is too safe right now'.
And so I've stayed out. I bought a cupcake and when there were no seats at Starbucks I asked to share a table with a complete stranger instead. This would usually horrify me when I'm looking for space of my own, outside of home.
I'm not sure if this is indifference.
I think i'm back on the quest for purpose. Perhaps it has come from seeing a damaged friend in a situation i feel too helpless to be able to change-I mean, it's all in her hands. Sometimes you just can't wrap other people up as much as you care for them and want to build, however fragile they are-they have to do it for themselves so they remember their own self strength too. I guess that is what a mother must feel like. And a Dad.
I think i'm feeling lost in how to enjoy myself today. Usually I know but there seems to be too many things to drag out by myself.
There are 1,000,000 things I can do today-I could choose to do, but they aren't apparent.
As the man I share a table with leaves, I realise he is a vicar.
I think I'm remembering who I was in February this year. A person with glitter, before all the heavy cancer and cuts were made to my life. Time before fear. Time when I remembered magic and that flouncy step which wasn't craze, but instead waves of love. Today is about remembering who I am. A re-assessment without the fear, the stigmas and too much pain.
I've missed that person, I'm sure others have too. The energy. The one who woke up and knew what to do instead of wonder- I was the wonder all along.
I remember now what people were and are to me- I remember what we had. I need to make a product for me beyond the obvious orders-ironing clothes, a tidy room, a tidy house. I need to tidy my mind first!
How do you work out what you want to put out there?
And just like that, I know it is right to go home again. To be in warm inside, and warm outside-all by myself.
And so I've stayed out. I bought a cupcake and when there were no seats at Starbucks I asked to share a table with a complete stranger instead. This would usually horrify me when I'm looking for space of my own, outside of home.
I'm not sure if this is indifference.
I think i'm back on the quest for purpose. Perhaps it has come from seeing a damaged friend in a situation i feel too helpless to be able to change-I mean, it's all in her hands. Sometimes you just can't wrap other people up as much as you care for them and want to build, however fragile they are-they have to do it for themselves so they remember their own self strength too. I guess that is what a mother must feel like. And a Dad.
I think i'm feeling lost in how to enjoy myself today. Usually I know but there seems to be too many things to drag out by myself.
There are 1,000,000 things I can do today-I could choose to do, but they aren't apparent.
As the man I share a table with leaves, I realise he is a vicar.
I think I'm remembering who I was in February this year. A person with glitter, before all the heavy cancer and cuts were made to my life. Time before fear. Time when I remembered magic and that flouncy step which wasn't craze, but instead waves of love. Today is about remembering who I am. A re-assessment without the fear, the stigmas and too much pain.
I've missed that person, I'm sure others have too. The energy. The one who woke up and knew what to do instead of wonder- I was the wonder all along.
I remember now what people were and are to me- I remember what we had. I need to make a product for me beyond the obvious orders-ironing clothes, a tidy room, a tidy house. I need to tidy my mind first!
How do you work out what you want to put out there?
And just like that, I know it is right to go home again. To be in warm inside, and warm outside-all by myself.
A jolly hollie diary
Which would be a 'Simple Diary'!!
http://www.simplediary.com/#/Simple_Diary/
A gift to self after a trip to the Tate this Monday. It feels like a voice instead of my own, in a book.
It's nice and makes me smile :)
Mine is orange, which was my favourite colour when I was ten-but it was also the only colour they had. HA!
http://www.simplediary.com/#/Simple_Diary/
A gift to self after a trip to the Tate this Monday. It feels like a voice instead of my own, in a book.
It's nice and makes me smile :)
Mine is orange, which was my favourite colour when I was ten-but it was also the only colour they had. HA!
Monday 24 October 2011
Natural highs
In the sprint of 40 minutes what on earth has elevated my spirit?
Music?
The pace of the day itself?
Reading certain words?
It is like some puzzle pieces have decided to fit. 'so this is what is was'...
Lets hope it isn't the vallium.
Music?
The pace of the day itself?
Reading certain words?
It is like some puzzle pieces have decided to fit. 'so this is what is was'...
Lets hope it isn't the vallium.
Rehab day one
Wake at 8am.
Breakfast at 10.
Music, shower 1pm
Food by 1.30pm
Bus by 2pm.
Hello Waterloo.
Usually when I walk, I like to blast everything out with music and headphones- a casual escape from certain things in the world. This time I decided to challenge myself, and walk naked. My ears were naked, no music!!!
London is loud, too loud for me right now so perhaps that's why music always seemed the best option. Or may be I just like to block out everyone else's rubbish as well.
The walk along Southbank was good. I've decided I hate children. Ok, perhaps hate is too stronger word because I'm sure they are all fabulous (I've been watching too much Sex and The City)... But when they keep cheeping and tweeting and try role reversal with their parents-I find it all a bit too much.
When I stumbled across Bridget Rileys piece it was like an eye fuck oddly pleasurable because the depth my brain had caused grew nice and possessed. I took a picture and blinked to rid my blur.
Breakfast at 10.
Music, shower 1pm
Food by 1.30pm
Bus by 2pm.
Hello Waterloo.
Usually when I walk, I like to blast everything out with music and headphones- a casual escape from certain things in the world. This time I decided to challenge myself, and walk naked. My ears were naked, no music!!!
London is loud, too loud for me right now so perhaps that's why music always seemed the best option. Or may be I just like to block out everyone else's rubbish as well.
The walk along Southbank was good. I've decided I hate children. Ok, perhaps hate is too stronger word because I'm sure they are all fabulous (I've been watching too much Sex and The City)... But when they keep cheeping and tweeting and try role reversal with their parents-I find it all a bit too much.
'smile and wave smile and wave Hollie...shut up you stupid kid...'
I'm just not ready to be around children yet.
Right now, i'm sat in a Starbucks in Southwark.. and I'm dreading to go home. I will be going home to blank. Do I keep myself busy, or set myself a task? I know the biggest one is sorting photographs, though with tiredness creeping in I feel perhaps I could quite happily just lay down and snooze all night. Perhaps I'm missing some sort of conversation, after all there is only so much you can say to yourself. I think I am in need of a self spark. Could sleep bring in the answers?
The Tate was interesting. Busy then I had seen it before, but more artworks which I think were bollox. Taryn Simon's pictures capturing the family portraits I thought were too craftily shot and framed with the characters eye level meeting the middle of the frame, all too crafted to make them look smaller- I did not like and remained unimpressed. I felt no sympathy. Perhaps I'm a cynic. Her doc photography did nothing for me, I think I was looking for more.
When I stumbled across Bridget Rileys piece it was like an eye fuck oddly pleasurable because the depth my brain had caused grew nice and possessed. I took a picture and blinked to rid my blur.
I'm sat here now after a Mango mix up drink wondering what I am going home for. My space? That sense of alone? I'm sure soon I will be bored with my own cynicism, or perhaps a boring self right now. Get over yourself... is just too easy to be said. We all have to figure things out.
I think i'm realising how much of a restless person I am!! Well, I always was, but when things feel like they are missing and only you can reassure yourself-perhaps the goal of the chase feels longer and further away than ever before.
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