I was just watching a Ted video on youtube that basically said if you are stuck spend about five minutes just writing and see what your brain is trying to say to you, so I thought I would give it a try.
I want to get my hands dirty, grow vegetables, flowers, learn about their needs and help them grow. I want to wake up and have somewhere to go everyday where I have a purpose. I want something that isn’t my job that I love, something I don’t care what other people think of, something I only care about. I’m not sure I’d even let anyone know. I want something that is going to make me feel like I am giving back into the world something where I can start to discover who I am and what I am capable of. More importantly I want the voice of my dad inside my head telling me “not too bother because you won’t practise anyway” to get the fuck out.
After a very satisfying nine seasons I have come to the end of a very emotional series. “How I Met Your Mother” as dramatic as it may seem and I’m sure quite lame Robin,Ted,Barney,Lily and Marshall have been keeping me sane for the past handful of weeks and going through 10ish years of their lives with them has brought me a weird kind of peace.
(photo from this link)
What started of as a time filler, I fancied something light to put my brain to rest before I tried to sleep, became an emotional commitment. Following that yellow umbrella as Teddy Westside climbed his way through hundreds of “the ones” I became attached to each of the characters.
Marshall with his kind hearted but loyal personality and of course his hilarious puns, Ted with his calligraphy, Lily who I’m sure scared everyone around her, Robin who annoyed the shit out of me and Barney who we all knew had a soul.Even Patrice.
I have noticed a lot recently the only shows I can really enjoy are the ones where you can tell there is a deeper connection between the actors than just the show, shows like Top Gear and League of their own were where I first noticed how friends working together really makes a difference. There is something about how I met your mother where you can feel a real life friendship that sneaks out throughout the seasons, something that makes it really special,it was fantastically thought out and managed to hold my attention even if I just stuck an episode on to take my mind away from everything else going on.
As I’m sure I’m a late bloomer to HIMYM I’m still not going to throw any spoilers into the mix but the ending really did break my brain and my heart as well as my tear ducts.
Even after finishing Sons Of Anarchy I’ve never quite enjoyed an ending to the point I just turned the tv off and sat in silence and enjoyed the emotion that pulsed through me.
(Photo from this link)
It’s so sad to say goodbye to such a fab show, no doubt to become a comfort blanket for the tough times.
Closing my eyes, I sit crossed legged on the bed my heart still thudding making the muscles in my body tense but I do as instructed and breath out like a lion, although today I do not feel like a Lion more like a deer. The video continues to play “And now focus on your breathing forgetting the day, forgetting anything that is happening…”.
Suddenly I feel myself plodding my flat feet making soft thudding noise on the floor every now and then cracking an old branch as I pass by. The lights dancing in between the trees catching my eyes every now and then causing them to sting. The silence is making me feel nostalgic, almost home sick. I spy those tiny little upside down tear drop flowers, a gorgeous blue colour almost brighter than the sky blue. What are they called? Pear Drops? no no. Bluebells!
Almost as if a cold finger has run a nail up my spine I feel a chill come over me but the forest remains so still, so peaceful. Memories of this place start to stir, my grandad hiding his huge walking branch behind a tree, hoping no one would steal it and mushroom picking with the both of them.
A sharp pain starts between my rib cage starts again, my breathing becoming harsh and my eyes snap open wide.
Feeling a bit lost after coming to terms with the fact that I left school five whole years ago and my baby brother is now about to finish his exams and soon start sixth form, it has been quite hard not to just stay in bed and stay in my safe place with Marshall,Lily,Ted,Robin and Barney (the cast of How I Met Your Mother). So I decided I needed to do something, something that made me feel like I was growing, would throw me out of my comfort zone and wouldn’t make me feel like I was just floating through time now that I didn’t have the structure of school. I realised whilst at school there is always a Next. Infants and then you do your sats in Juniors and then you go to secondary school and then decide whether you want to go to college or sixth for and,and,and. What I had never considered was how hard it would be when they took all those and’s away.
Every month I started looking into a trying to pay for some courses at City Lit College in Covent Garden, I live in the West Midlands but luckily I have someone to stay with for a night whilst I do my course( just a quick note for anyone considering a course in london getting a railcard makes it really affordable just to go up for the day) Originally I wanted to get back into my artistic side, I felt like I needed motivation and picked an Art and Design portfolio course that helps people get into foundations and universities and then last minute I couldn’t stop thinking about doing a Creative writing course.
What has surprised me about doing both these courses which may seem similar in creativity but I find extremely contrasting.In both courses i have already pushed myself so much in 3 lessons in. Although one of the down sides for me personally is Art has just reminded me of my old bad habits, not wanting to do the work in such limited time for example have 45 minutes on two different pieces of art so never actually being able to build a relationship with a piece.I’ve also found it extremely hard to connect to the idea of art this time round and this has made me realise maybe I have changed, maybe not going to Uni to do fine art was the right decision. I can’t love it anymore and that is okay.
Both of these courses and if you are reading this thinking why should I do a evening course this is my biggest selling point. I’ll start off with describing myself I am quiet, not overly confident and I hate it, I want to be able to push myself and for a while I stopped believing I could both these courses have made me speak about work I have put myself into. I have never physically shaken so much in my life doing it, but it feels so good to know I have. You have never done enough learning the world is far too magical to stop.
I’m only halfway through these courses but I know I will definitely be taking more courses and pushing myself it is hard. It is so hard but I can just tell it is going to be worth it.
(photo taken from http://boardofwisdom.com/togo/Quotes/ShowQuote?msgid=53590#.VzWvDfkrK00)
Some days I feel like i’ve forgotten how to feel happy, I feel like screaming “I DON’T KNOW HOW TO BE HAPPY ANYMORE” today is one of those days. Maybe I am over tired, but right now I am feeling ridiculously restless, like I have jumping beans in my body full of motivation that are trapped in a lead cage so thick that the motivation can’t get out and i’m just left trying to find a youtube video or a blog piece that will help me break them out. I don’t mind because I know it will pass after a good nap, just the wasted time makes me feel so useless.
We live in a time where beautiful is probably one of the most well received compliments given, no one thinks anything of it, just walks away with a smile. Whilst listening to one of my tutors stories about how at one time having your piece of work called beautiful meant that yes it did look just lovely! but it meant nothing. I may not be so sure about the art world at the moment, but I know for a fact that art means everything to the artist, personally I believe that makes it art. Sometimes it may start as just an idea – no real meaning too it but it grows and it festers and that idea becomes physical.