The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds cut out of the sky
I really love this song by the Killers. There's such poetry and heartfelt sentiment embued in every line.
The week has been a bit topsy-turvy. I've managed to get a flat (yay! yay! yay!) in a really lovely tree-lined street which has the potential to be a truly great place to live. I've had a few job interviews; and nearly posted about them in the week, such was my enthusiasm to land them. One I felt quite optimistic about, following the interview, mostly because the guy that interviewed me seemed like a very decent person to work with. But as it turns out both jobs were not offered to me - one because I wasn't ruthless enough *g*, the other because the other candidate was offering less money. Such is life!
Since I've been trying to turn myself around, trying to think better about situations personally, I'm doing my best to take these things in my stride. They weren't meant to be - because something better is waiting around the corner. I just need to chill, stay optimistic.
I'm constantly impressed by people that can suffere heartache, defeat, seemingly insurmountable bad times and then can manage to turn themselves around. Get up the next day. Go out and do the business. Keep on keeping on. I guess this is why I appreciate some sports players for their professionalism (let's not speak of the madness of John Terry's £135,000 a week salary shall we?) and I particularly liked this interview with Andy Roddick where he talked about picking himself up after his horrendous defeat at Wimbledon. Sometimes you need to read these things just to think, I can do it too.
In the meantime, I went to an exhibition at the Barbican called Panic Attack: Art in the Punk Years. It was quite interesting - lots of different ideas and displayed some of my favourite artists: Robert Mapplethorpe, Patti Smith, Cindy Sherman, Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat. Some of the video art was very basic - I suppose, given that the medium was just in its infancy. Other works were incredibly explicit. One showed photographs of a piece of performance art where the performers had a threesome on stage. I was just trying to imagine if this kind of thing would ever happen now. Somehow we've got more and more repressed in the last 30 years. But there was also some terribly iconic work that screams ideas of youth and raging against the machine and the weight of living - a series of photographs by Nan Goldin were particularly arresting.
As ever, I'm around but not really at the weekends. Have two more interviews on Monday - so wish me luck!
The week has been a bit topsy-turvy. I've managed to get a flat (yay! yay! yay!) in a really lovely tree-lined street which has the potential to be a truly great place to live. I've had a few job interviews; and nearly posted about them in the week, such was my enthusiasm to land them. One I felt quite optimistic about, following the interview, mostly because the guy that interviewed me seemed like a very decent person to work with. But as it turns out both jobs were not offered to me - one because I wasn't ruthless enough *g*, the other because the other candidate was offering less money. Such is life!
Since I've been trying to turn myself around, trying to think better about situations personally, I'm doing my best to take these things in my stride. They weren't meant to be - because something better is waiting around the corner. I just need to chill, stay optimistic.
I'm constantly impressed by people that can suffere heartache, defeat, seemingly insurmountable bad times and then can manage to turn themselves around. Get up the next day. Go out and do the business. Keep on keeping on. I guess this is why I appreciate some sports players for their professionalism (let's not speak of the madness of John Terry's £135,000 a week salary shall we?) and I particularly liked this interview with Andy Roddick where he talked about picking himself up after his horrendous defeat at Wimbledon. Sometimes you need to read these things just to think, I can do it too.
In the meantime, I went to an exhibition at the Barbican called Panic Attack: Art in the Punk Years. It was quite interesting - lots of different ideas and displayed some of my favourite artists: Robert Mapplethorpe, Patti Smith, Cindy Sherman, Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat. Some of the video art was very basic - I suppose, given that the medium was just in its infancy. Other works were incredibly explicit. One showed photographs of a piece of performance art where the performers had a threesome on stage. I was just trying to imagine if this kind of thing would ever happen now. Somehow we've got more and more repressed in the last 30 years. But there was also some terribly iconic work that screams ideas of youth and raging against the machine and the weight of living - a series of photographs by Nan Goldin were particularly arresting.
As ever, I'm around but not really at the weekends. Have two more interviews on Monday - so wish me luck!