Tuesday, 26 November 2013

Solitude Saving my Soul.

I've been home, and settled, for a few moths now. The first week of my return im not sure i left the house once. I certainly wasn't leaving my bed before midday. I just needed to re charge.

 Since ive been home ive barely had a whole day alone. I work Wednesday through Saturday and get three glorious days off to do with what i please. But because i have three consecutive days off ive felt i had to make them into mini holiday every weekend. So ive went away visiting people-every weekend. Its been great fun, and ive had a great time. However, i felt myself dipping. I was becoming rude, internally frustrated and just exhausted. So this weekend rolled around and i just said no and cleared my calendar (genuinely blackened the three days out with a black marker).

And its been marvelous! I slept, a lot. i finished a book.. Took myself skateboarding!? Done some art! A rather big deal since i havent been able to write or paint properly since ive been home. Cried at "Saving Mr Banks". Took some photos. And of course vegetated for about 6 hours watching the first six episodes of the second season of the period drama "The Paradise"- have you seen those dresses and hats?!!

I feel so damn good- refreshed and energized. I want to be nice to everyone again! 

Solitude has totally saved my soul this weekend. 

Tuesday, 19 November 2013


Usual tears are easy enough to hold back, and they are not often triggered by films or images very easily.

These are two images that struck a chord tonight. Without warning i was sobbing. Something about fathers and their children.

2002: A boy holds his dead father’s trousers as he squats beside the spot where his father is to be buried, surrounded by soldiers and villagers digging graves for victims of an earthquake in Armenia. (By Eric Grigorian)

 2003: An Iraqi man comforts his four-year-old son at a holding center for prisoners of war, in the base camp of the US Army 101st Airborne Division near An Najaf. The boy had become terrified when, according to orders, his father was hooded and handcuffed. A soldier later severed the plastic handcuffs so that the man could comfort his child. Hoods were placed over detainees’ heads because they were quicker to apply than blindfolds. The military said the bags were used to disorient prisoners and protect their identities. It is not known what happened to the man or the boy. (By Jean-Marc Bouju)

I mean i don't particularly enjoy how much my father likes to hold my hand, but im glad he does- and can.