Journal Entries

South bound

I've just started the slow move south to the sea. Last week was traumatic
with my very complicated living arrangements unsettling my soul. I have
never felt at home anywhere before London, so leaving her has become a
big thing. It's size, noise and chaos were my playground for so long. So
as I contemplated leaving this old grey city I was full of a mixture of
feelings, my nostalgia is fading though, as the sound of seagulls and the
ever-changing beauty of the sea start to seduce me.

We walked home from a party in Brighton at the weekend along the
seafront, just as the sun was coming up, the sky turned gold and the sea
became quicksilver, it was miraculous. The feeling of freedom and
possibility, and in a very tangible way, of fresh beginnings still glows
in my heart.

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Latest reply: Dec 6, 1999

Leaving home

All my life I have wandered. Amongst dreams, and then between people. The only place I feel eloquent is when I feel the miles speed under my feet. The strongest sense of freedom I have ever felt was on the road.

I realise these days that part of the fascination is anonymity. I settled in an urban landscape. This fed my voyeurism and I fell into that mirror called technology, where I started to find my voice. Easy hedonism allowed night wanderings and tribal connections, I found my family dribbling on the dance floor.

Everything changes. My people make me who I am. They are where I am from and London is the catalyst. I realise this finally as I prepare for my departure.

The gloss has begun to fade.

I always wondered how it would happen, how I would fall out of the flame. I think when it comes down to it in the end it is a physical need. I am beginning to be aware of my body’s needs as I grow older, she needs air to breathe, space to grow and time to be listened to.

I can no longer afford to abuse her as my container in such a blind and careless way. All future abuse must be carefully planned, plotted and paid for.

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Latest reply: Nov 22, 1999

A technological love affair

Mother Techne provided the arena where I found my brain. This was quite late on. After years of people being distracted by my hair colour, so it had a big impact. I was initially seduced by the way I learnt, the validation given to my ability to connect different streams of interest. It gave me a space to realise thatI had to play to learn and that I could do whatever I dreamed.

I now feel at the end of a 7 year love affair, trying to find a way to be faithful to my passion and fighting off the cynicism which creeps like a fungus. My hero is Brenda Laurel. My inspiration was the desire to be able to communicate, clearly and concisely and is now more about using my voice to tell my story, because we all need stories for our children.

I have a sneaky suspicion that technology is more fun to make than to use. I worry that the digital will lead us away from the flesh and I hope and pray that commerce doesn't kill our play. We know too little of this new language for Sillywood to stamp on innovation. Roll on independant production.

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Latest reply: Oct 5, 1999

On my mind

I had felt an impending sense of foreboding all day. From lunchtime the anxiousness rose up in my throat unbidden. I worried about my love lost, but it came across the bows from a completely different angle.

The phone call came at 8pm on Friday, and that was how I found about you leaving. I see your smile and feel the force of your energy all around me as the waves of realisation rise and fall. We walk that well worn path of disbelief, anger and tears as we wish we had been with you.

This world will be an emptier place if you go, come back.

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Latest reply: Aug 31, 1999


It certainly all goes on at once around here.

My current decision is where to move to, certainly one of the most stressful questions to ask. I have lived in Brixton for almost too long, it was the very first place that felt like home.

But now my life is split, between a heart and a head, between the smog and the blue place, between solitude and connection. The irony of these decisions is that they always seem so trivial once they have been lived.

Eeeny meany miney moo...

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Latest reply: Aug 31, 1999

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