When my friends are away
You find me mid-beginning of a fresh life experiment.
Two and some years since my last ritualistic sloughing off of my old skin I finally abandon stubborn staying and decide to try to evolve. With my usual gifted timing I do so in a recession and societal depression. The Adam Smiths are not exactly rolling in.
My last life experiment was, I think, an independence one: needing to de-compress from a few years of intensity (in love/ out of love, amazing inspiring work life, just general human mud). I wanted to be On My Own for a while. I certainly achieved that. An arm-length romance with The Australian; living on my own in a flat that had the soul of a barque; patchy internet and 4 television channels at best, no internet and an intrusive sign across my teevee screen telling me that "this signal will soon be turned off" at worst; living in a city that, while my home town, is not in any sense the most convenient for visitors from far afield.
My main sources of human contact were my team (LOVE), my grandma (HEROINE) and, after the media crew of summer 2009 disembarked, my friends at work (thanks xx). So, you know, not exactly on my own, but I could go weeks without a hug.
Hugs aren't something that I thought I needed - it'd never crossed my mind in the past. But when hangouts (real ones) with my teammates, family in London and (BELOVED) team awesome friends smacked me sideways with how loved I felt - the contrast to the daily less than loved ground me lower than it ought to have. Maybe I have been spoilt. I have known some good huggers (and I recently discovered another one, my friend just married him. I stole an extra hug from him as I left their wedding celebration. Too good.)
So some of the decision for a city-move to inaugurate this new life experiment is because I want more hugs more often. And as well as that, in the past couple of years I have begun to become more experimental and more creative in my professional practice; it's time to explore this creative evolution. A darwinist approach to becoming what I am.
One of my old bosses gave me two pieces of wonderful advice (paraphrased):
one: "Look for a job where you'll learn. Once you have learned everything you can, or you stop learning, fuck off. This is the important bit: don't forget - never forget - to fuck off."
two: "Look at all jobs, keep clippings of things that interest you. Every now and then look through them and you'll see a pattern appearing... you'll find out what you want to do next."
And, well, London is the greatest city on Earth. There is no possible way to escape having an adventure each time you leave your house in London.
And the London Rollergirls have accepted me, so my self-inflicted broken rollergirl heart may yet be mended through being pulverised by the best team in Europe twice a week.
Anchors are hauled in. I'm underway.
(image source: http://www.spikegifted.net/london.htm )
Two and some years since my last ritualistic sloughing off of my old skin I finally abandon stubborn staying and decide to try to evolve. With my usual gifted timing I do so in a recession and societal depression. The Adam Smiths are not exactly rolling in.
My last life experiment was, I think, an independence one: needing to de-compress from a few years of intensity (in love/ out of love, amazing inspiring work life, just general human mud). I wanted to be On My Own for a while. I certainly achieved that. An arm-length romance with The Australian; living on my own in a flat that had the soul of a barque; patchy internet and 4 television channels at best, no internet and an intrusive sign across my teevee screen telling me that "this signal will soon be turned off" at worst; living in a city that, while my home town, is not in any sense the most convenient for visitors from far afield.
My main sources of human contact were my team (LOVE), my grandma (HEROINE) and, after the media crew of summer 2009 disembarked, my friends at work (thanks xx). So, you know, not exactly on my own, but I could go weeks without a hug.
Hugs aren't something that I thought I needed - it'd never crossed my mind in the past. But when hangouts (real ones) with my teammates, family in London and (BELOVED) team awesome friends smacked me sideways with how loved I felt - the contrast to the daily less than loved ground me lower than it ought to have. Maybe I have been spoilt. I have known some good huggers (and I recently discovered another one, my friend just married him. I stole an extra hug from him as I left their wedding celebration. Too good.)
So some of the decision for a city-move to inaugurate this new life experiment is because I want more hugs more often. And as well as that, in the past couple of years I have begun to become more experimental and more creative in my professional practice; it's time to explore this creative evolution. A darwinist approach to becoming what I am.
One of my old bosses gave me two pieces of wonderful advice (paraphrased):
one: "Look for a job where you'll learn. Once you have learned everything you can, or you stop learning, fuck off. This is the important bit: don't forget - never forget - to fuck off."
two: "Look at all jobs, keep clippings of things that interest you. Every now and then look through them and you'll see a pattern appearing... you'll find out what you want to do next."
And, well, London is the greatest city on Earth. There is no possible way to escape having an adventure each time you leave your house in London.
And the London Rollergirls have accepted me, so my self-inflicted broken rollergirl heart may yet be mended through being pulverised by the best team in Europe twice a week.
Anchors are hauled in. I'm underway.
Click to view (image source: http://www.spikegifted.net/london.htm )