Sunday, 29 January 2012

Perceiving the New

This was the verse I 'got' when weighing up the options of staying in Stammo, and leaving for Ketters. I felt like I nearly missed out on a new life, and new opportunity and new future when I nearly stayed there instead of coming here, and I have to say, I'm pretty glad I came.

I'm not sure what specifically is going to spring up next, but I've been recently thinking about the amazing people and bits of life there are here already, and getting excited about what's next.

There's something a bit hard about 'forgetting the former things', especially the particularly formative 'former things' that appear to have become ingrained. I mean, the more difficult, or negative formative things. They're the ones that were important to have experienced, but the ones that it is equally important not to dwell on.

That's all, really.

Just wanted to share.

Tuesday, 24 January 2012

The Waiting Room.

Not quite right, but something along those lines...

Why are things sometimes difficult to verbalise?

Or difficult to verbalise well.

Sunday, 22 January 2012

This Week

This week, I have been mostly listening to half-familiar new-ish artists (mostly from the Communion record label, it would seem...)

At this very moment, it is Marcus Foster, with his luxuriously husky mellowness, preceded by the eclectic Peggy Sue, whom I love (though I think I prefer their first album, based on the sound cloud on their website, Through the post this week (I heart, I received the WONDERFUL Benjamin Francis Leftwich album. It is a bit same-y, I suppose, but I also suppose that is what BFL 'sounds' like, and when that sound is so very wonderful, I can't help but be glad of lots of it.

(iTunes has just shuffled onto 'Oh Susannah', by Pete Roe. I am going to see him support Laura Marling at the beginning of March, and I am WELL excited - he is my sound of summer 2011, especially 'Bellina'. LOVE IT.)


This week, I had a birthday. I am old.

But feeling strangely ok about being a bit old.

I am still mid-twenties. Just a bit on the later side of mid-...

Anyway, it was lovely - I saw some family, my year 11s singing to me, my form going crazy because of it being my birthday, and a terrible, terrible film. ("Haywire" - plotless, full of gratuitous thumping and loud violence, plus a bonus scene of completely unnecessary kissing that doesn't fit with any of the rest of the film. Ewan MacGregor is made to speak with a (bad) American accent, and Channing Tatum pouts a bit, before getting shot in his broken arm. Nice.)

This week, I also decided to move on from the church I've been with for the past year or so. It is just a little too far away, really. It worked for a while, but since moving to my current address, it added on about 10 extra minutes. Which isn't a lot, I appreciate that, but it just made everything feel more difficult.

But that means I have the exciting task ahead of finding and settling into a new church. EXCITING!

This weekend, I saw one of my bestest friends (the one who got married in this post). It was SO lovely to see her. We walked, mooched, boggled, drank tea, ate cake, ate soup, ate croissants, watched an obscene amount of DVD (including approximately a million episodes of Flight of the Conchords - she had not seen it. Oh, now she has!)

And this afternoon, I have spent muchmuch time compiling and beginning to tackle a mammoth 'To Do' list. Frustratingly a lot of it has to be completed using information I have on my school laptop, so I will need to complete that in all the spare time I have at school.


Sorry, just the thought of having spare time at school made me laugh a little bit...

Anyway, here's a thought:

I wonder if people can be broken. I mean, not bones, just like... Say, if you'd fallen in love with someone, but it didn't work out, or they didn't love you back, or whatever, and then you don't ever seem to fall in love with anyone else ever, you just stay sort of 'stuck' in love with that person - that sort of means you're ceasing to function properly because of the immovable feelings for that person. So, in effect, you're now broken, because you aren't working as you're supposed to.

Does that make sense?

What would you do? How could you get un-broken?
I'm not really sure what the answer is, or even if the problem is a real one, but it's just something I was thinking of recently.

Anyway, I'm now listening to Ben Howard. His is the sort of voice I would like to hear in the summertime, sitting with a crowd of people, perhaps with some sort of campfire in the middle of us all...

Anyway, anyway.

There is something magical about this year.

I can feel it already.

Tuesday, 10 January 2012

From Russia With Love

So I just looked at the stats of this blog - apparently lots of views come from Russia... I have to say, that surprised me. But in a good way.

So, hello, Russia :-)

Right now, I'm sitting in my bed, listening to Cleo Laine and John Williams on vinyl. It is SUBLIME. Her voice is wonderful. His playing is lush. BEAUTIFUL.

I just watched the film An Education. I had never seen it, but the sister of my friend plays the cello in it, so I wanted to partly for that reason, but also because it was supposed to be a good film.

It is a good film.

It has made me desire to go to Paris, to be knowledgable about art and to look beautiful. (and to get to know a man before deciding to marry him.)

It has made me desire living in a beautiful home, with pictures on the walls and postcards in the hallways, and to go to jazz clubs, and drink Martinis. I don't even know what a Martini tastes like.

I also read One Day over Christmas, which also includes a little reference to Paris.

What IS it about Paris? Do people there really only wear black clothes and Chanel perfume and drink Moet et Chandon for breakfast? Do they really walk down the Champs-Elysées and waltz in the street and make flamboyant gestures of romance?

Truth is, I think they must. Why else would all films and books represent it as such? Otherwise, that's just false advertising.

Anyway, enough pining after Paris (I said that in a French accent. You can't tell, because I typed it.) I am going to turn over Cleo and John, and allow them to serenade me to sleep (I bet they have people who do that in Paris, too).

I can feel a cold creeping up on me, so I'm going to fight it with sleep and tea and other magical methods.


(goodnight, Russia xx)

Monday, 2 January 2012


Happy New Year!

Hurray for 2012.

New year, new adventures...

Bring it.

(I bought two dresses today...)