Saturday, 21 February 2009

Robot : Doodle

Thursday, 19 February 2009

Thursday : came : round : quickly

Spent today in the gym and wandering through the streets of Nottingham looking for a golf related fancy dress outfit, not a bad day in anyway, but not a particularly exhilarating one either. Happy.

Am sitting in my room listening to a bit of Laura Marling. Her words are soulful, and more often than not relate to my state of mind and current life. Have just spoken to a good and close friend, and will hopefully get the chance to see him on my birthday weekend. Although a brief conversation, his cheeky chappy one liners and general concern are warming to me, I ashamedly feel that I do not appreciate my relationship with him often enough.

The atmosphere is relatively tense, and I find myself unable to share a concern for such trivial matters. I am simply living to the best of my ability, I have no time for grey days or negative thoughts. I am living now, I will worry later.

Have been working on my moodboards today. One for the depiction of the cigarette as a symbol within our society in comparison to a more historical outlook on smoking, and the other for the advance in "Organic" as a trend and fashion. Am very much, not looking forward to the presentation of these moodboards, but will attempt to avoid thinking about it so as not to tye my tummy into too many knots.

Wednesday, 18 February 2009

Buying cups of tea for the big issue man

Blurgh. The gym this morning was definitely a bad idea! Went to Oceana last night and it was truly horrific. Men squeezing past girls and girls rubbing themselves against chaps that are innocently wading through the crowd of hormones and push up bras. . . . The music was as equally disturbing as the folk surrounding me, a mixture of quoestionable remixes such as Kings of Leon and Beyonce, make of that what you will. It is hard to write poetically about such a sorry state of affairs, and because of this I will move on.

Have you ever been in love? I'm not sure if I have or not. I have felt a tremendous movement within my soul, a movement for someone. Frightening at first, almost like a part of me was taken away and would only be returned by the presence of that someone. Strange.

To me love has to be forever, although it can get weaker over time, if you let it, it will always be in you somehwere. Love should be running through your hands when you touch that someone, it should be the sparks in yur mind that trigger the adrenaline rush when you imagine that persons face for the most brief of moments. It should be the difference between listening to a song and hearing its meaning. I tend to ramble like this, but I feel the need to roll out these words across this virtual page, perhaps seeking reassurance, perhaps a simple spring clean within my mind, making space for more pointless thoughts.

Today I bought a cup of tea for a man selling big issues in Nottingham outside The Body Shop, with two white sugars. He seemed pretty chuffed by my act of random thoughtfulness. £1.60 is a small price to pay to make someones day that much easier, or at least warm their fingers and toes for a moment. If you have the opportunity, realise your ability to put a smile on the face of a random member of the public. Sometimes a smile is all it takes.

Tuesday, 3 February 2009

Downtown New York

The two of us continue to wander through the snowy streets, barely a word is exchanged, but currently there is no need ofr verbal distractions, the aesthetic pleasures are more than satisfactory. We decide in our cosmopolitan way to "do lunch", but somewhere local, somewhere with a sense of personality, somewhere with blue window sills and mis-matching chairs....

....Home made lentil soup is on the menu, and it's not long before the dented enamel bowls of steamy broth arrive with chunks of giabatta in a similarly distressed vessel. This is idealic, the buttery liquid warms the throat as the window seat provides a constant film like reel of entertainment, as we watch downtown go about its daily business.

They run across the street, dodging the traffic with a cheeky jump and twirl. Their neon jackets create slashes of colour, cutting across the dull grey of the New York sity skyline by day. They stop in front of an overwhelming wall of colour, covered in ethnic sketches. African tribal attributes are apparent, contrasted with a zesty urban backdrop of vibrant yellow and magenta. He dances, freely and carelessly infront of his scenery, and although his movements are not choreographed his body form shapes artistically familiar with balletic figures such as D.Bussell.