Sunday, 25 September 2016


Fascination with objects and things just for the way they feel and look is good for the part of your mind that processes shapes and colours. I have no science behind that, just experience. Enjoying craftsmanship and invention and design just because it exists feels very... pleasant.

Today when we drove home from one of those beautiful, harmonised family days out the sunlight was so awesomely clear that it illuminated one of the most magnificent rainbows I've ever seen. The colours, too vibrant to be real, were fantastic. We enjoyed looking at it, a full and exciting scene for our eyes.

We'd been at a house full of a collection of 'things' that had been collected just for the pure enjoyment of them. Tiny figures carved from bones, strange paintings, doll's houses, jars of exotic beetles coloured like gems. Everything was brilliant, just because they were. The house was meant for people to have an adventure in each room, to spend time just looking around and discovering bizarre and wonderful objects.

Fascination with what the world has to offer you is healthy and it is good. It means you are alive, and you are using every part of yourself to take that all in.

Saturday, 17 September 2016

Bodies are cool.

I am fascinated by but also completely ignorant of the human body, like most people. I have a general idea of how certain systems work and why but really there are enormous parts of understanding that are missing. The scary/cool/bizarre thing is that huge parts of that understanding are missing from even the greatest doctors' minds too, except they may be closer to working it all out than I ever will be. But that's the thing: I'm walking about in what I think of as a case for carrying my thoughts and feelings without much knowledge for how the hell it's been keeping me alive all this time.

If you think about it, I mean really think about it, your body is the coolest thing you'll ever have. Right now I'm thinking about words in my head and then without consciously telling them to do so my fingers are finding letters on a keyboard that have been memorised and are turning them into words on this page. And at the same time there are white blood cells in my blood stream that are working really hard, doing whatever it is they do, fighting against tonsillitis. I didn't tell them to do that, whoever "I" is, they're just doing it. At the same time as all of this my body is doing a thousand other things working like an extremely complex machine to do who knows what whilst I am sitting here, inside of my body, completely unaware of it all going on. My body is really cool.

We sit inside our heads as if we have any control or any idea about what's going on inside of our complicated shells and we rarely appreciate it. We never really stop to think about the fact that our bodies stopped us from falling flat on our faces without our conscious mind sending a conscious message, or that our skin sewed itself back up after a deep cut because it can, because it's there to protect us. Whoever "us" is. I think our bodies can be unsung heroes a lot of the time, when we ignore the fleshy home we live in. Perhaps we should stop and think about them once in a while, not  as separate to "ourselves" in fact, but just stop and watch our beings be. It's really, really cool, if you're paying attention.

Saturday, 10 September 2016

Sugar and spice and all things nice.

I experienced internalised misogyny last night. I don't know if I have done before but I was certainly aware of it then. It was one of those moments where my brain forgot to filter unwelcome social conditioning and I actually targeted myself in my judgement of women, of womanhood, of femininity.

It was extremely trivial, but extremely dangerous, and I immediately pulled back from the thought I was having in shock. I was thinking about a style of top a friend of mine owns. I was thinking about what that style of top would look like on me, what it would go with, where I would wear it. It's a pretty top; it has a Peter Pan collar and cute, short sleeves and an empire line and it's in a delicate blue. I like the top, I think it looks very lovely, but my thought was this: It looks too feminine, you don't want that to be your image.


I actually considered that by wearing that top I would look too girly and therefore not be taken seriously enough. It wouldn't be cool because it wouldn't be ever so slightly masculine and therefore more grounded, more intelligent, more focused.

How dare I insult my own femininity like that. I'm so amazed at that thought, that creeping, sly misogyny poisoning my tastes and desires. Being feminine does not equate to being a woman, but despising femininity acknowledges the fact that female is inferior.

I actually had that idea run through me for a hot second: female is inferior and male is powerful, supreme, superior.

I think I must wear frills and bows and pretty things forever whilst stamping gleefully on the patriarchy just to prove that stupid idea wrong now. But I don't need to prove anything, my femininity is strong and serious and grounded, I won't be forgetting that again.

Friday, 2 September 2016

September stationery.

So the time has come for the summer to end and the world of students to trundle off back to school. Or university, in my case. For many this is a delicious time of year. The air cools, the trees set on fire,  new shoes and new stationery are in order. In fact it's that specific part of September, the buying part, that many find so exciting.

This year I have a much longer list of things to buy. Not only do I get to look through pens and pencils and notebooks and folders this time round but duvet covers and pots and pans are a necessity too. This genuinely excites me. The IKEA shop is calling to me, over the hills, through the wind. I can't wait. I'm going to get a new backpack, it's very thrilling.

And yet, I can't help but wonder if this excitement over the prospect of buying new things is a problem. Why do I feel any emotion in acquiring objects that will ultimately lose their fun new shine in a matter of months or weeks? What I will buy will mean nothing. Ok, so I need a few pots and pans to cook my dinner, and the backpack's going to be pretty helpful when I'm cycling to and from the city centre, but do I need to feel anything about it? Is any sense of attachment to a bag or a pen or a notebook healthy?

You could say I've been overthinking this, and I most definitely have. September is new academic beginnings and I am lucky enough to be able to afford all the pens and equipment I need to help me with that. I don't resent it at all. I just wonder why it feels so good purchase new stationery...