There's something really frustrating about not being able to read books at the pace you would like. It seems, that people believe that by reading books fast, your ability to enjoy the book is higher. Not too mention also your general intelligence level, too.
That is a huge, huge literacy myth.
I hate when people always feel as if they should justify as to why they haven't read their books 'fast enough'. There's a plethora of different reasons as to why people don't read fast, and they don't need justification.
I have always read slow - Ever since I was a child. Whenever my dad told stories to me and my sister, he would deliberately cut off at a tense point. The tales of Jimbob and Raynard, made up stories my dad told us about a relationship between a talking fox and a farmer, was our absolute and our absolute favourite. Whenever they found themselves in peril - the story would end until tomorrow night. That way, it belonged to me and my sister. We would speculate all day, grow increasingly more excited, come up with theories as to what would happened next, it created such a wonderful relationship between reader and story. Then, naturally, with other books, I would do the same. I would cut off purposefully at point just to make the suspense feel more heightened. It's like watching a TV Show and the screen fades to black when their is a gun to the protagonist's head - The exhilarating feeling you get from not knowing what would happen next is so rewarding for me.
I also don't like consuming too much information all at once. My brain will just overload after a while and I won't be concentrating all that much, and I'll miss important parts of the narrative. By breaking it into small chunks - this doesn't happen and I really take in whatever was going on in that chapter, as it gives me time to think about is as an individual sector.
This doesn't mean/reflect anything about my intelligence or reading abilities.
And if you do find reading difficult, that is perfectly okay. You can still enjoy the book just as much.
Showing posts with label blog everyday in june. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blog everyday in june. Show all posts
Saturday, 15 June 2013
Friday, 14 June 2013
#BEDJ14 Don't Dream it, Be It
So I couldn't post yesterday due to how much of an intensely busy day it was BUT I have many a story from it to make up the lack of posting.
First of all, I went to see Rocky Horror. To a thespian kid who's never really fully felt comfortable with the squeaky clean nature of musicals, but definitely (a little too much actually) enjoyed the idea of them, Rocky Horror is perfect. I watched the film when I was 14, slightly too young to grasp the full picture, but old enough to embrace it anyway - and fell insanely in love with it. Ever since then, it's always been attached to my bucket list.
There's something extremely unique about how timeless it is. The community never really changes - it just gets bigger and better. I think I will like ANYTHING which is defiant of the norms and has means of being empowering, but a musical that does that, is literally paradise. Which isn't also to say, however, that Rocky Horror is devoid of any problems or critique. But I won't focus too much on that, because I had a pretty awesome time all and all.
Of course, I dressed as Columbia. I have no idea why I have such an intense love for her character, because really, we aren't that much a like. I just like how (even though this is the same for all rocky horror characters, it's just hers especially) she doesn't fit into musicals but rocks it anyway. Her voice is jarring, her moves a little bit too quick and fruity, her appearance striking - Columbia represents everything I wish I could see on stage. We also both have crooked teeth. Paired with a gold glitter hat and silver glitter shoes, I practised hiccuping mid speech and laughing manically - and of course - feeling fabulous in order to gear up for my role.
The atmosphere is something really, really rewarding. When we first arrived and got out of our taxi, a man behind us dressed as a Frank N Furter said ''You know there's something up when I'm wearing higher heels then you ladies''. He also rocked a pair of heels way more then I ever could. Everyone there, even before the play had begun, was just instantly willing to talk to you and make jokes and generally just have a good time. I was a little nervous that it wouldn't be that way, because obviously, after hearing so much about how much of a community the show is - I didn't want to be let down. Another thing which was awesome about the audience was the way they enhanced the show's experience. For example, the people sat on our row all sheltered newspapers on their heads like Janet does throughout There's A Light, while other people shone torches and glow sticks. The audience participation was great, there were so many people there that shouted out, some knowing the typical phrases, while other people hurling them out randomly, and of course the beloved Time Warp was everything it possibly could be.
The overall production was also impressive. The casting was literally flawless - each character played homage t the movie portrayal, but added their own fare to it with like a variation in their accent or switching up their movement a little. The obvious stand out was Frank N Furter, who was played by Oliver Thornton. He commanded the stage so naturally, while also making his Frnk N Futer very emotional and raw at points. The only downfalls was Magenta & Brad. Magenta, who was an understudy, obviously felt a little out of place and time. She didn't command enough as Magenta, nor did she have that low, husky demeana - but having said that she wasn't entirely all that bad. Brad's voice was lovely, and his performance wasn't terrible - It's just his accent slipped at times and his interactions on stage were kinda off putting. In terms of the technical choices, I was personally impressed. Enough colour and interesting set design without it being too in your face.
It's safe to say I gave myself over to absolute pleasure.
Music for this blogpost
The entire Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack.
First of all, I went to see Rocky Horror. To a thespian kid who's never really fully felt comfortable with the squeaky clean nature of musicals, but definitely (a little too much actually) enjoyed the idea of them, Rocky Horror is perfect. I watched the film when I was 14, slightly too young to grasp the full picture, but old enough to embrace it anyway - and fell insanely in love with it. Ever since then, it's always been attached to my bucket list.
There's something extremely unique about how timeless it is. The community never really changes - it just gets bigger and better. I think I will like ANYTHING which is defiant of the norms and has means of being empowering, but a musical that does that, is literally paradise. Which isn't also to say, however, that Rocky Horror is devoid of any problems or critique. But I won't focus too much on that, because I had a pretty awesome time all and all.
Of course, I dressed as Columbia. I have no idea why I have such an intense love for her character, because really, we aren't that much a like. I just like how (even though this is the same for all rocky horror characters, it's just hers especially) she doesn't fit into musicals but rocks it anyway. Her voice is jarring, her moves a little bit too quick and fruity, her appearance striking - Columbia represents everything I wish I could see on stage. We also both have crooked teeth. Paired with a gold glitter hat and silver glitter shoes, I practised hiccuping mid speech and laughing manically - and of course - feeling fabulous in order to gear up for my role.
The atmosphere is something really, really rewarding. When we first arrived and got out of our taxi, a man behind us dressed as a Frank N Furter said ''You know there's something up when I'm wearing higher heels then you ladies''. He also rocked a pair of heels way more then I ever could. Everyone there, even before the play had begun, was just instantly willing to talk to you and make jokes and generally just have a good time. I was a little nervous that it wouldn't be that way, because obviously, after hearing so much about how much of a community the show is - I didn't want to be let down. Another thing which was awesome about the audience was the way they enhanced the show's experience. For example, the people sat on our row all sheltered newspapers on their heads like Janet does throughout There's A Light, while other people shone torches and glow sticks. The audience participation was great, there were so many people there that shouted out, some knowing the typical phrases, while other people hurling them out randomly, and of course the beloved Time Warp was everything it possibly could be.
The overall production was also impressive. The casting was literally flawless - each character played homage t the movie portrayal, but added their own fare to it with like a variation in their accent or switching up their movement a little. The obvious stand out was Frank N Furter, who was played by Oliver Thornton. He commanded the stage so naturally, while also making his Frnk N Futer very emotional and raw at points. The only downfalls was Magenta & Brad. Magenta, who was an understudy, obviously felt a little out of place and time. She didn't command enough as Magenta, nor did she have that low, husky demeana - but having said that she wasn't entirely all that bad. Brad's voice was lovely, and his performance wasn't terrible - It's just his accent slipped at times and his interactions on stage were kinda off putting. In terms of the technical choices, I was personally impressed. Enough colour and interesting set design without it being too in your face.
It's safe to say I gave myself over to absolute pleasure.
Music for this blogpost
The entire Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack.
Wednesday, 12 June 2013
#BEDJ12 Death but with a capital D.
I see Death as a lonely old creature, a man of solitude who often at times is sarcastic - weaves intelligence into his rhetoric - A cunning being with cunning conversation. Still, even through these traits, I see him as a very pleasant character. A man that's wit is actually rather charming.
I feel for Death. After years of both his cold exterior and rather gruesome appearance leading people to believe he is infact ‘unapproachable’, most of his encounters with people have lead to demises and, at best, half hearted friendships.
It's surprising Death even can conjure up a smile, but he does. And he does it with a certain elegance that only Death could wear - A grim faced, slightly sadistic smirk that habituates its self from one corner to the other. Death wears this smile in order to invite, but while it is a sight to see, his intentions are mis uninterpreted. As if his grin is one last reminder for all the sadistic smiles they have faced in Death's acquittance's life, like the bully who smiled when teasing you, or the aggressively hated boss, who smiles first thing on a Monday morning.
Death shrieks fear into the hearts of his unexpected acquaintances. Death has seen many denouements, well, the matter of the fact is that he’s seen them all. Some less tragic then others, but most equally and ultimately as tranquille.
History never mentions the role of Death in major history events - 'death' is mentioned but not Death himself. He is merely dismissed; his counterpart is apparently nothing but mere folk law, a hushed tale that only gossip-full house wives and naive children whimper among their friends. He’s always there though. Maybe not in the photographs, but he is. Sometimes lurking in the background, bearing his peace to those around him; sometimes in the heart of the action.
Business is business to Death - He works his way in and out every demise, does the job, and there! That’s all right and dusted, right? He has to do what he has to do.
But even Death, the grimmest of them all, still finds him self questioning his role in life (the irony kills). What exactly is your role in life if it is all just to take it away? God - life is hard. So is death. Everything is hard. Life sucks.
Even Death fears 'death' him self. Often he finds himself questioning if there will be a time where his own ghostly friend will visit, and he will be laid to rest in peace. IN a sense, he is very hopeful that this will happen.
He often debates with his acquaintance - the human - as to ”What will happen next?” which the now soulless and scared human curiously asks. ”We wait” Replies death, in a slightly subdued tone, and a small gasp breathe..
Death is a lonely creature - He is simply too much of a solitary man to commit. He has made a few friendships in his time, but he seldom sustains them. When you encounter Death, make some polite conversation. Tell him how that the new stife suits his figure - compliment his handy work; Maybe ask him how his day went. But whatever you may converse about, do not fear him. Don’t hold haste or spite against the bones in which he takes a ghastly appearance. You may notice Death. Sitting on your sofa, enjoying the latest current affairs, for a split second you see him lurking behind the lamp shade.
You may see him in the hospital, watching the heart monitor fall from a great height to a devastating low - you may notice his comforting but cold touch sweep across your shoulder when this happens. You may see him on the street, casually walking along with the hustle and bustle. Don't be afraid of this.
And, also, remember that we all share the same demons. Even a demon its self. Death has insecurities and anxieties, too. So treat Death as you wanted to be treated, smoke a cigarette if you want to flirt with him.
I feel for Death. After years of both his cold exterior and rather gruesome appearance leading people to believe he is infact ‘unapproachable’, most of his encounters with people have lead to demises and, at best, half hearted friendships.
It's surprising Death even can conjure up a smile, but he does. And he does it with a certain elegance that only Death could wear - A grim faced, slightly sadistic smirk that habituates its self from one corner to the other. Death wears this smile in order to invite, but while it is a sight to see, his intentions are mis uninterpreted. As if his grin is one last reminder for all the sadistic smiles they have faced in Death's acquittance's life, like the bully who smiled when teasing you, or the aggressively hated boss, who smiles first thing on a Monday morning.
Death shrieks fear into the hearts of his unexpected acquaintances. Death has seen many denouements, well, the matter of the fact is that he’s seen them all. Some less tragic then others, but most equally and ultimately as tranquille.
History never mentions the role of Death in major history events - 'death' is mentioned but not Death himself. He is merely dismissed; his counterpart is apparently nothing but mere folk law, a hushed tale that only gossip-full house wives and naive children whimper among their friends. He’s always there though. Maybe not in the photographs, but he is. Sometimes lurking in the background, bearing his peace to those around him; sometimes in the heart of the action.
Business is business to Death - He works his way in and out every demise, does the job, and there! That’s all right and dusted, right? He has to do what he has to do.
But even Death, the grimmest of them all, still finds him self questioning his role in life (the irony kills). What exactly is your role in life if it is all just to take it away? God - life is hard. So is death. Everything is hard. Life sucks.
Even Death fears 'death' him self. Often he finds himself questioning if there will be a time where his own ghostly friend will visit, and he will be laid to rest in peace. IN a sense, he is very hopeful that this will happen.
He often debates with his acquaintance - the human - as to ”What will happen next?” which the now soulless and scared human curiously asks. ”We wait” Replies death, in a slightly subdued tone, and a small gasp breathe..
Death is a lonely creature - He is simply too much of a solitary man to commit. He has made a few friendships in his time, but he seldom sustains them. When you encounter Death, make some polite conversation. Tell him how that the new stife suits his figure - compliment his handy work; Maybe ask him how his day went. But whatever you may converse about, do not fear him. Don’t hold haste or spite against the bones in which he takes a ghastly appearance. You may notice Death. Sitting on your sofa, enjoying the latest current affairs, for a split second you see him lurking behind the lamp shade.
You may see him in the hospital, watching the heart monitor fall from a great height to a devastating low - you may notice his comforting but cold touch sweep across your shoulder when this happens. You may see him on the street, casually walking along with the hustle and bustle. Don't be afraid of this.
And, also, remember that we all share the same demons. Even a demon its self. Death has insecurities and anxieties, too. So treat Death as you wanted to be treated, smoke a cigarette if you want to flirt with him.
Tuesday, 11 June 2013
#BEDJ11 Shake The Sun From Your Skin
I
always remember
for some reason
my neck was burning up.
I
accused the sun
of being trouble
when really
I thought I was just
too cool of suncream.
I
yawned
while holding out for
your little palm
to block my eyes.
Monday, 10 June 2013
#BEDJ10 Home
There is this magical scene in Almost Famous where the band in the movie, alongside their crew, are lounging on their tour bus. Elton John's Tiny Dancer is playing and one by one, they all starting singing along. Throughout this Patrick Fugit's Character, William Miller turns to Kate Hudson's character, the mysterious Penny, and tells her ''I have to go home.'' She then replies, ''You are home.''
As Penny implies, home does not just mean your house. It also means the abstract too. Your friends, your memories, your laughter, they are your home, too.
Home to me, when it comes down to the abstract - is going to my local supermarket, which I have lived next door to all my life, and recognizing the staff. Sitting outside the Leeds canal watching the water slowly fold into waves, constantly pondering why they don't just put benches there. Home is being awake at four AM listening to Belle & Sebastian. Home is not brushing my hair ever and wearing clunky too-big-for-me blue docs. Home is writing terribly, but not caring because that's what makes me happy. Home is sitting on trains from London to Leeds and planning the times I will get off at the stations I don't usually. Home is watching you tube videos and learning from them. Home is going to gigs, getting extremely sweaty, but not giving a fuck about it. Home is in a cup of tea. Home is woven into the Yorkshire accent. Home is lots of things.
And, although home is not limited to your house - my house is still very much home for me; the little old brick house I've lived in for 17 years, in my small box room which has pink and black walls because my 12 year old sister designed it. This is home. I very much fear the day we will have to sell it, which is silly because I don't just want to live here forever. I just don't want anyone else to own it. The idea of the house I've come to know so well being changed my strangers is awful - Hopefully I'll be rich enough to buy them out and change it back.One of my friends from school actually moved into our family friends old house, and when I walked past and looked in last year - I noticed they had redecorated EVERYTHING. Stripped down the wall, changed the door, the garden, everything was (and is now) different. I paused looking solemnly at it until my friend's mother came out to the driveaway. I must have looked like a really melancholy burglar to her.
As much as I complain that I am bound to the small city life - and that I wish to seek the great perhaps and travel the vast world as a ambitiously hungry adventurer, there will always be a part of me which will never leave small city life and will never want to leave small city life. Even when faced with the most exciting of places, they don't provide the warmth I get from being in Small Town Leeds. It's the familiarity, the fact I can practically go anywhere and know it off the back of my hand, whilst also knowing the history and the in-jokes hidden in every street corner. It's something which I will always be grateful to be apart of.
Music for this blogpost
Home - Edward Sharp And The Magnetic Zeroes
Disenchanted - My Chemical Romance
You Know Where To Find Me - Imogen Heap
Leeds United - Amanda Palmer
As Penny implies, home does not just mean your house. It also means the abstract too. Your friends, your memories, your laughter, they are your home, too.
Home to me, when it comes down to the abstract - is going to my local supermarket, which I have lived next door to all my life, and recognizing the staff. Sitting outside the Leeds canal watching the water slowly fold into waves, constantly pondering why they don't just put benches there. Home is being awake at four AM listening to Belle & Sebastian. Home is not brushing my hair ever and wearing clunky too-big-for-me blue docs. Home is writing terribly, but not caring because that's what makes me happy. Home is sitting on trains from London to Leeds and planning the times I will get off at the stations I don't usually. Home is watching you tube videos and learning from them. Home is going to gigs, getting extremely sweaty, but not giving a fuck about it. Home is in a cup of tea. Home is woven into the Yorkshire accent. Home is lots of things.
And, although home is not limited to your house - my house is still very much home for me; the little old brick house I've lived in for 17 years, in my small box room which has pink and black walls because my 12 year old sister designed it. This is home. I very much fear the day we will have to sell it, which is silly because I don't just want to live here forever. I just don't want anyone else to own it. The idea of the house I've come to know so well being changed my strangers is awful - Hopefully I'll be rich enough to buy them out and change it back.One of my friends from school actually moved into our family friends old house, and when I walked past and looked in last year - I noticed they had redecorated EVERYTHING. Stripped down the wall, changed the door, the garden, everything was (and is now) different. I paused looking solemnly at it until my friend's mother came out to the driveaway. I must have looked like a really melancholy burglar to her.
As much as I complain that I am bound to the small city life - and that I wish to seek the great perhaps and travel the vast world as a ambitiously hungry adventurer, there will always be a part of me which will never leave small city life and will never want to leave small city life. Even when faced with the most exciting of places, they don't provide the warmth I get from being in Small Town Leeds. It's the familiarity, the fact I can practically go anywhere and know it off the back of my hand, whilst also knowing the history and the in-jokes hidden in every street corner. It's something which I will always be grateful to be apart of.
Music for this blogpost
Home - Edward Sharp And The Magnetic Zeroes
Disenchanted - My Chemical Romance
You Know Where To Find Me - Imogen Heap
Leeds United - Amanda Palmer
Saturday, 8 June 2013
#BEDJ8 - Where will the boat sail?
Even at the ripe age of 17, I find myself thinking ''What the hell am I doing with my life?''
This is due to a combination of external and internal factors. The external routing from school, parents, friends, etc - and the internal being from my own mind (duh). Young people are constantly told to question. Question their life choices, their identity, their abilities and question most of all, whether their contribution to life is somehow valid. This is all an attempt at making sure we are on the glorious path to 'success'. This isn't really a good thing for us.
People don't follow the paths they want to in fear it's not accepted as others - or not the right contribution to society, or whatever that means. So someone won't pursue dancing, for example, for fear it's not a solid career. People won't dye their hair a vibrant colour - something like bright teal - incase people judge them for it, or because they won't get employed, or they won't seem 'approachable'. Or whatever.
Another thing which drives us to question is the fact we are compared so much. Our lives are compared, constantly. Whichever young person is the archetypal angel, whoever they are, be like them. And if you are not like them, you better think long hard hard why not, boy.
I've sort of plagued myself with this constant existential crisis which makes me worry about all the things I do. I've actually found I'm in a position where I put way more pressure on myself then my school and parents do combined. From my school subjects, to my friendship group, to my wardrobe choices - I always question whether they are beneficial, and the right choices to make. Which I think can be a positive thing in ways.
In this year I've had to make some choices to simply let people go. Not because I dislike them - or even that they are toxic people - just because it was the correct thing to do. Friendships are formed really easily, but maintaining them isn't. If you know the friendship isn't really working in reality, it's best to just let it go. If I hadn't over thought this, however, I would still be desperately trying to latch myself onto people, and I wouldn't have made the decisions I ha, so I am grateful for this weird trait of mine.
The centre of your questioning shouldn't just be stopped at your own experiences, of course. It's good and very healthy to question things. I'm a firm believer in questioning. Question gender, question science, religion, education systems, politics. But don't forget that it's not always going to help you - particularity when it comes to your own life. You need to enforce a system of confidence and solidarity, you need to have the believe that not everything you do needs questioning, otherwise you will just lose your sanity. And you certainly won't find the answers you are looking for.
I am now at the stage where I will be finishing high school and moving onto higher education. The process is daunting, scary, and nerve wrecking. It's make or break. Everything we do now, will determine the next couple of years and how we will spend them. I'm lucky, or at least I think I am, because I've always known the field I want to go into. I've been interesting in writing, literally for as long as I can remember. Now as I've got older, there are numerous different media related things I've become interested in - TV, Films, Publishing, Social debate, Theatre. So it should be easy, right? Just pick a course that caters to that and work hard for it?
No. My stupid-little-questioning brain is telling myself I have no idea what I am actually capable of, no idea what actually interests me, and that I can't function as a normal human being let alone an ambitious one.
My brain secretly knows this is silly. But it's because I've been conditioned that I do it anyway so I avoid failure.
So you know what? Fuck failure. Fuck success, too. Fuck grade targets. Fuck comparing. Fuck what is socially acceptable and what is not.
Which ever way the boat sails, it's always going to be in the water. It's always going to moving with the current - even if only by a little bit. And that's what's mast important.
Music for this blogpost
We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed - Los Campesinos
Failure - Laura Marling
Squares - Stepdad
Everything Turns Gold - George Watsky
This is due to a combination of external and internal factors. The external routing from school, parents, friends, etc - and the internal being from my own mind (duh). Young people are constantly told to question. Question their life choices, their identity, their abilities and question most of all, whether their contribution to life is somehow valid. This is all an attempt at making sure we are on the glorious path to 'success'. This isn't really a good thing for us.
People don't follow the paths they want to in fear it's not accepted as others - or not the right contribution to society, or whatever that means. So someone won't pursue dancing, for example, for fear it's not a solid career. People won't dye their hair a vibrant colour - something like bright teal - incase people judge them for it, or because they won't get employed, or they won't seem 'approachable'. Or whatever.
Another thing which drives us to question is the fact we are compared so much. Our lives are compared, constantly. Whichever young person is the archetypal angel, whoever they are, be like them. And if you are not like them, you better think long hard hard why not, boy.
I've sort of plagued myself with this constant existential crisis which makes me worry about all the things I do. I've actually found I'm in a position where I put way more pressure on myself then my school and parents do combined. From my school subjects, to my friendship group, to my wardrobe choices - I always question whether they are beneficial, and the right choices to make. Which I think can be a positive thing in ways.
In this year I've had to make some choices to simply let people go. Not because I dislike them - or even that they are toxic people - just because it was the correct thing to do. Friendships are formed really easily, but maintaining them isn't. If you know the friendship isn't really working in reality, it's best to just let it go. If I hadn't over thought this, however, I would still be desperately trying to latch myself onto people, and I wouldn't have made the decisions I ha, so I am grateful for this weird trait of mine.
The centre of your questioning shouldn't just be stopped at your own experiences, of course. It's good and very healthy to question things. I'm a firm believer in questioning. Question gender, question science, religion, education systems, politics. But don't forget that it's not always going to help you - particularity when it comes to your own life. You need to enforce a system of confidence and solidarity, you need to have the believe that not everything you do needs questioning, otherwise you will just lose your sanity. And you certainly won't find the answers you are looking for.
I am now at the stage where I will be finishing high school and moving onto higher education. The process is daunting, scary, and nerve wrecking. It's make or break. Everything we do now, will determine the next couple of years and how we will spend them. I'm lucky, or at least I think I am, because I've always known the field I want to go into. I've been interesting in writing, literally for as long as I can remember. Now as I've got older, there are numerous different media related things I've become interested in - TV, Films, Publishing, Social debate, Theatre. So it should be easy, right? Just pick a course that caters to that and work hard for it?
No. My stupid-little-questioning brain is telling myself I have no idea what I am actually capable of, no idea what actually interests me, and that I can't function as a normal human being let alone an ambitious one.
My brain secretly knows this is silly. But it's because I've been conditioned that I do it anyway so I avoid failure.
So you know what? Fuck failure. Fuck success, too. Fuck grade targets. Fuck comparing. Fuck what is socially acceptable and what is not.
Which ever way the boat sails, it's always going to be in the water. It's always going to moving with the current - even if only by a little bit. And that's what's mast important.
Music for this blogpost
We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed - Los Campesinos
Failure - Laura Marling
Squares - Stepdad
Everything Turns Gold - George Watsky
Friday, 7 June 2013
#BEDJ7 - Try not to make a Nickleback reference
I'm a little bit annoyed today. I've started this project (which I will hopefully go into more detail about in a later post) and I've been super excited about it, but then something kinda crappy happened today regarding it and meh, it's left me in a bad mood. It just kinda sucks when you put work into something and it feels as if that work is undervalued and ignored. *The Sound of Silence slowly fades in*
I'm not really in the mood to talk about anything today, so I thought I would share a few photos. Let's try not make a Nickleback reference while doing it.
Thursday, 6 June 2013
#BEDJ6 - Life is a total dance party
So after watching Beyonce's documentary, and after her talking about the importance of empowerment through your own female sexuality - like don't let the fucking men decide what is sexy and what isn't AM I RIGHT LADIES - I really, really admire female dancers. People complain about how they're sometimes hyper sexualised but to me, they are just totally commanding. They decide how in which they are going to move their body, and while their seductive, they are also totally like ''I am fucking here and don't fucking fuck with me. '' It's badass.
If there's the one thing I always wish I could be; it's a successful dancer. I've never been able to bust a move. The embarrassing drunken times at a party and the school productions I've been in will tell you that. But I've always, always wanted to.
On both my mother's and my father's side, there have been dancers. Professional ones too. My grandad even did tap-dancing while cutting people's hair as a performance act. But alas, I can't even do three steps without falling over.
Now while I may not have good co-ordination, I do have good motivation. And there's where me and Beyonce have something in common (there's a phrase I never thought I would write). Beyonce seems to describe dancing as a form of empowerment, something which asserts you power. So if you eliminate dancing as something which is entirely systematic, get rid of the boxes you are suppose to tick, the aesthetic you are meant to have, the idea that there is a particular way of doing it - and just see it as passion, rage and power, it becomes something which I think is achievable for everyone.
Now I know expecting to be Beyonces' level is a little irrational even with such a carefree mindset, but hey.
All the dancers I've seen and appreciated are the ones who seem to completely lose themselves in the act.
They slip up, they're off beat, but they look like they mean game - and you totally feel what they re trying to achieve. So who give's a fuck if your feet are all over the place if you can totally own that? Who cares if you're sweating and tripping up if you are looking like a badass motherfucker who means business?
So this is me saying, hopefully, I will do something related to dance within the next year. I need to figure out what but you bet your ass I'll be busting those sharp moves when I do.
I had a conversation about dancing a while ago and it sounded way better then this. Do you ever wish you could turn your conversations into blogposts? I totally wish I could turn my conversations into blogposts. Anyway, see you tomorrow folks.
Music for this blogpost
Run The World - Beyonce
Dance Anthem Of The 80's - Regina Spektor
Dancing Shoes - Arctic Monkeys
Bubblegum Bitch - Marina & The Diamonds
If there's the one thing I always wish I could be; it's a successful dancer. I've never been able to bust a move. The embarrassing drunken times at a party and the school productions I've been in will tell you that. But I've always, always wanted to.
On both my mother's and my father's side, there have been dancers. Professional ones too. My grandad even did tap-dancing while cutting people's hair as a performance act. But alas, I can't even do three steps without falling over.
Now while I may not have good co-ordination, I do have good motivation. And there's where me and Beyonce have something in common (there's a phrase I never thought I would write). Beyonce seems to describe dancing as a form of empowerment, something which asserts you power. So if you eliminate dancing as something which is entirely systematic, get rid of the boxes you are suppose to tick, the aesthetic you are meant to have, the idea that there is a particular way of doing it - and just see it as passion, rage and power, it becomes something which I think is achievable for everyone.
Now I know expecting to be Beyonces' level is a little irrational even with such a carefree mindset, but hey.
All the dancers I've seen and appreciated are the ones who seem to completely lose themselves in the act.
They slip up, they're off beat, but they look like they mean game - and you totally feel what they re trying to achieve. So who give's a fuck if your feet are all over the place if you can totally own that? Who cares if you're sweating and tripping up if you are looking like a badass motherfucker who means business?
So this is me saying, hopefully, I will do something related to dance within the next year. I need to figure out what but you bet your ass I'll be busting those sharp moves when I do.
I had a conversation about dancing a while ago and it sounded way better then this. Do you ever wish you could turn your conversations into blogposts? I totally wish I could turn my conversations into blogposts. Anyway, see you tomorrow folks.
Music for this blogpost
Run The World - Beyonce
Dance Anthem Of The 80's - Regina Spektor
Dancing Shoes - Arctic Monkeys
Bubblegum Bitch - Marina & The Diamonds
Tuesday, 4 June 2013
#BEDJ4 - Endings
A solid piece of advice: do not go near a park in the glorious sun if you don't want to be swamped with couples.
Couples man. Walking arm and arm, getting all up in my grill. The obvious purpose of their summertime stroll was solely to annoy me. ''Hey, darling. Lovely weather. You know what that means? We need to find Lucy Howell and make her feel lonely.''
I don't mind spending time by myself - infact, I kind of treasure it. I don't suddenly feel validated if I have a person next to me. But boy, I would be lying if said I didn't get super jealous when couples are near me.
And in a really weird way, couples also make me sort of worried for them. I was stood with one couple at the bus stop, and their conversation kind of stuck with me ''What will we do next saturday?' The girl in the couple asked, while looking mildly worried. The boy replied, with a reassuring smile on his face, ''It doesn't matter now, does it? We will find out when we get there.''. It made me worry about them because what if they get there, and there isn't what they want? Or they don't even make it to Saturday? What if they find out one is completely lying to the other on the Friday? Or on the thursday, they realize they are completely separate beings who have nothing in common? I should write a fan fiction for them. The Bus Stop Saga: Passionate Romance on the no 2.
I feel as if that's sort of it for everyone. Just waiting until they get there. Trying hard not to think about what could go wrong - or whether things will even go right. Just carefully waiting, simmering through time, plodding along with the mantra 'ignorance is bliss'. As Fitzgerald said, 'boats against the current' we live by ignoring the overarching struggle we may have in our upcoming futures.
Most couples have endings, but that's always ignored. There is a possibility it won't end, of course, but come on. Most couples have endings, life isn't a Nicholas Sparks novel. Why do we ignore endings? Is it because we are afraid of them? Afraid that when we have love in our lives, the possibility of it leaving us is just to earth shattering to think about?
Endings - just like 'Saturday' - is something we won't know until we get there.
Music for the blogpost
Bookends - Simon And Garfunkel
Brothers On A Hotel Bed - Death Cab For Cutie
New Romantic - Laura Marling
Jam Eater Blues - The Mountain Goats
Happy Endings - Pulp
Bookends - Simon And Garfunkel
Brothers On A Hotel Bed - Death Cab For Cutie
New Romantic - Laura Marling
Jam Eater Blues - The Mountain Goats
Happy Endings - Pulp
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