Reflections.

Memories. They get twisted and warped in our minds. Reflection is a dangerous business.

Reflections- by Charlotte H. Knox

Autumn is coming...

... And i'm getting restless.

Autumn Travel- by Charlotte H. Knox 2009
 

It is to be expected, of course. If you've been 'free', or at least not committed to anything formally for almost a year, just a few weeks of the same place, same routine, same faces, same ness, is going to get boring. But thats not it. I'm not bored. I'm enjoying my job. Enjoying routine. Enjoying the faces i get to see. I'm enjoying the control i've gained. I wasn't in control when i was traveling- not really- i was at the mercy and kindness of strangers.

I have to settle. At least for a little while.

But the world is beautiful this time of year. The cold creeps in and you can wear large coats out. Leaves fall crisp on the ground and force you to walk with a spring in your step. The sunrise is more beautiful. And every city smells of anticipation.

I want to see Europe. Now. 

I need a new project.

A Drink with Jam and Bread.

I awoke yesterday morning to a delightful text, from a delightful lady. Only to find her and my mother in the kitchen, surrounded by the most delightful smell- home made jam cooking.

Yesterday was the start of this roller coaster going up. 

Tea, a drink with jam and bread, that makes the day better and could cure the world.

Favorites

I used to get annoyed at people who had favorites. Like favorite films, or bands, or songs ect. If someone could answer with one straight answer i wanted to tell them to go watch more films and listen to more music. Now, however, i understand a favorite doesn't come about because you haven't experienced enough. You have favorites because it means a lot to you (or at least that is why i have favorites).

So about two years ago my friend Isaac and i were in a car with his older brother and another friend, driving back from Alton Towers (one of my favorite weekends). Isaac brought up a youtube video of his friend, Anthony, who had written this song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kyk3RRSXheE

Now i wasn't that emotional as a person- not that you could tell from this bloody blog. Anyway, i put the headphones in and listened to the song. The last thing i was expecting was to be reduced to tears. But its a beautiful song. And, although the relationship with my father does not resemble the lyrics at all, it still meant a lot to me. It struck a chord pretty hard.

Now, two years later, i still listen to the song most weeks. And i'd say its one of my favorites. 

Confession: I still can't spell the word favorite. I didn't spell favorite correct once when i wrote this. I had to Google chrome spell check it every time...

Soup of the Audible Sort.

Pre Note: I am trying not to offend my friends who work hard and do amazing jobs of creating these events. The events themselves are brilliant. My experiences are just tainted by my lack of ability to enjoy myself in environments created for fun.....

I don't like festivals.

Or at least i think i don't. Large groups of people don't do it for me, generally.

However, last year i attended Doune the Rabbit Hole and had a brilliant time. Chiefly due to people. Some drugs also (sorry parental units), but mostly just people. So this year i went to two festivals: Doune the Rabbit Hole and Audio Soup.

I worked at both (but only took my camera to one) mostly because i want to relieve my friends, at least a little bit, of the huge amounts of stress that comes with organizing and running a music festival. I also figure if i work through the day i can get my quiet time, miss all the waking up and daytime wandering (i'd struggle doing this in company, i am not human when i wake up.), and reduce the number of hours i am focused on enjoying myself and then jump in to the middle of the party where everyone is already having a good time, that i have not contributed to. So i can come and go as i please without taking away from their fun. I have fun just myself. I like just having little snip-its of group enjoyment and the rest of the time i like to wander alone in my own world.

I was in the box office all day at Doune. I had a lovely time there, in the box office. The residents were some of the most lovely people. They brought us wine, and chocolate profiteroles with cream, and cheese and crackers, and hot sausage rolls, and home made double baked chips, and tea on several occasions (which i cant thank then enough for). On the Saturday the lady from one of the cottages came down at the end of my shift, at 10pm, with a torch to take me back to her home and let me shower- a luxury i never underrate. After having, possibly one of the nicest shower of the year, i came out refreshed and warm to be greeted by a cup of tea and a bacon roll with not one, not two, but three bits of bacon on. It is this that made my weekend.

I also had a marvelous time at the festival, with friends. There was a tree in the middle of the site that had lights attached to the branches. I would be standing under this tree, when my friend would appear. He'd sweep me up in a waltz position and dance with me while reciting his poems. He would look into my eye and make me half fall in love, in under 30 seconds. Then he would finish his poem, kiss me on the hand, or the forehead, and evaporate into the darkness. Breaking my heart in the process. That was spectacular. Far too romantic for real life, but it was at a festival and it makes a good story.

The festivals were on consecutive weekends. So by the time i hit up audio soup i was tired. Damn tired. I was pretty sucky person because i was tired. Also because as a person i suck sometimes. I missed helping my best friend. I was not as helpful as i could have been ect ect ect. But the people are so lovely they didn't even mind. It ended up i worked the box office for the whole first day and then i got the rest of the weekend off (far too good a deal if you ask me).

After i had finished my shift i was ready for bed, far too many waking hours and like 12 of them working. I got ready to grit my teeth so i could face a night of excessive alcohol intake, music that would make my head ache worse and generally pretending i was having a great time, so as not to dampen everyone else's good time. This is what i was expecting. I forgot, or hadn't realized yet, the sort of people i had found myself surrounded by.

After i finished my shift, i ran from the box office, in the pitch black, to the festival sight trying to warm myself up. I found some friends and, all of a sudden, there was no obligation. No expectations. In fact there was sympathy and encouragement to go to bed. I had a hand taking all my crap round to a friends tent- i didn't have my own camp, and i got put up for the whole weekend by a marvelous family. I even got hugs goodnight- that made me cry, but only after i was in the tent and no-one could see.

 I am tired and sick so this is mushy. But these people are marvelous. They are genuine and kind. They sort of renewed my want for social interactions and friends. And i don't think they know that they make me happy.

Yet again i enjoyed a festival for large groups of, splendid, people.
And after a year of transitions, travels and brief encounters i've found some wonderful people to call friends.

This guy played at Doune. I enjoyed this:

Esperi

Over the Sea.

We went sailing- some of the best gentlemen i know and i.

I like boats, and i love the ocean- something about fathomless bodies of water, and not being able to touch the bottom alive. So when Tim asked if I'd be interesting in sailing and being part of his new venture (Quetzal Shipping and Trading) of course jumped at the chance.

We went sailing off the west coast of Scotland, up The sound of Mull to Tobermory and back again. Sailing is brilliant, hard work, but brilliant. It was an interesting week for myself. It was the first week of my travels this year and so challenges arose: I like being alone, sometimes i actually need to be alone, and thus sharing 33ft of space with 5 other bodies (no matter how wonderful and lovely those bodies are) was always going to be interesting for me. However, i don't think i done too bad. Everyone else was, of course, too lovely for me to have any complaints about their presence.

 I was also the only female, which is not something that bothers hugely. However, when i am the only girl i feel as if i have to prove myself. At the very least i must match the weakest male emotionally and physically. With this i failed. I cried twice. Once just because the shower i was trying to have ran cold... I am ashamed to admit this isn't the first time a cold shower has reduced me to tears, but there you go my Achilles heal. Everyone was, of course, very nice about my feminine behavior, and that was a huge relief. The whole thing just got me over myself a little bit more, which is always a good thing.

 These aren't complaints, well the lack of decent showering facilities at Oban bay are, but otherwise these are just some of my unfavorable attributes highlighted to me on this trip, that over the last 6 months i've been attempting to adjust. I've found myself observing unfavorable characteristics in myself and at least for now i've recognized them. I'm getting round to fixing them.

Here are some of the beautiful sights we saw on our adventure:

 

 Driving north- less breathtaking thank you'd expect from the west coast of Scotland Due to the heavy fog the whole way- but enjoyable none the less.

 The Skipper. He has the right idea about life.
We liked him instantly. After we all got on the boat for the first time, having introduced ourselves to Paul, our skipper, and having a brief on land introduction to some safety things. We get on the boat, already a little damp and cold from the Scottish weather, and settle down to have a little chat about the upcoming adventure. Our skipper duly produces a long rectangular box and asked us what we thought it contained- baring in mind it was essential for all sailing ventures. After we had all guessed (incorrectly) things like maps, charts and compass. He opened the box and reviled six whiskey tumblers. 

There was just something insanely attractive about boats to me, and the reflections in the water were amazing.

Another first: Rory, Isaac and i climbed the mast!
The view was stunning. The climb was difficult.   

 We Anchored in this bay one night (i've forgotten its name) and went and explored the island while the sun set. Scotland is beautiful.

 Mid week we reached Tobermory,on the isle of Mull. We ate fish and chips- or rather the boys ate fish and chips, while i hid from seagulls.And in the evening we all went to The Mishnish Pub, drank merrily, enjoyed music and played darts. The pub recorded Rory and Isaac playing a little:
Music in the pub.

Our Skipper played us some old island songs, and told some excellent stories.
The pub recorded him also, and the link be Here.

Mr Timothy Dennis- Day Skipper.

Pirating.

Playing.


Beautiful, beautiful.

The last night was splendid. As the sun set over by Ben Nevis, we poured ourselves a well deserved whiskey and danced up and down the boat, swinging each-other by the arm and cheering, to some Scottish folk music. And when the sun set and the music stopped we lay out on deck and watched the stars for a while.

 

So was the first venture for Quetzal. 

 It was an adventure indeed, and the sea has stolen my heart.






A beutiful song for the occasion.
A song for the Sea
By a beautiful friend of mine.

Anxiety.

Anxiety- By Charlotte H. Knox.