I am not a burning boat

I’ve been all too miserable recently. Things are starting to wrap up here at college, my friends starting to leave. I have to decide whether to go home in two weeks and commute in, since I still have stuff to do here, or stay here in halls, for which I’d need a new p.a, as charlotte is going home on the first. No p.a, no dinner. Hungry cripple. Bad medicine. Cant decide what to do.

This problem is getting to me, as there are too many variables. How feasible is commuting etc. Argh. I prefer essays. Writing essays I can manage. Making decisions never!

Time to cheer up. I heard today of the tragic news about the cutty sark. I should be sad, but I’m not because it will be rebuilt. It is part of our heritage. If that problem can be overcome, so can mine. Okay, I’m not a 19th century tea clipper, nor have I recently been on fire, but you get the idea. Mine is, in the grand scheme, a minor problem.

Right. Time to stop typing drivel and actually do something.

nearly time to go home, i think

I’m afraid to say things got depressing around here today. Rocky said goodbye, making her the first of our cohort to leave, and there were indeed tears. It wasn’t so much fun, and to be honest it made me a bit homesick. Think I’m ready to go home – not that I want to leave my friends, but when they leave I want to leave myself. Campus without them will just fill with ghosts. Yes, I’ll soon be ready to go home. I still have artscool to work on, but sin ce thats in crewe, I think it would be more viable to commute. (mind you, either way its aa head ache)

power of drama

Powerful drama

I guess its why academia is so great. One cannot realise how powerful or how beautiful an art form is until you start to study it. Read a poem once and it may strike you as beautiful, but once you start to read and study literature in general, then a whole new world opens up. You get to compare and contrast; you get to see more in that poem when you read it in relation to a whole literature. I have found this with writing and film, of course, as I have studied them for many years, but I have only just discovered the wonders of drama.

Before now, I have seen drama as writing made visual – that is to say, a secondary outlet. But in and of itself, drama can be beautiful. I realised this only after I started hanging around with graham; going to rehearsals, seeing how a play is put together. I got to see how scenes are put together. It isn’t a case of merely reading lines: it is far less clinical, more human, and quite quite fascinating. Whereas writing is a solitary rather simple process – you just sit at a desk and tap away upon your keyboard – creating a piece of theatre takes more time and physical, emotional and, to an extent, intellectual effort. Theatre also kind of bridges the gap between my two loves of writing and film, or else fits comfortably into a tripartite, so knowledge of the dramatic process as well as the literary and filmic ones will almost certainly come in handy with my m.a.

Watching the rehearsal this afternoon, I had an idea. The actors were trying out ways of becoming old people. they were working with a dancer, who was teaching them how to walk like old people. I was suddenly hit by a fascinating thought – is it possible to act disabled? Is it possible for a normal person to simulate something like athetoid cerebral palsy? Earlier today, me and graham had been throwing about ideas to do with working together: if I transformed Moby dick into a script, he would direct it. Now, melleville’s classic has a great narrative, but the narrative is largely secondary to the human story of Ahab and his decent into vengeful madness. It is this which interests me, especially when applied to disability and it’s representations.

My mind is now abuzz with ideas; the two link rather well. Is it possible to explore the nature of disability through drama. I try to bring people into my world through my writing, articulating the paradox of being different, yet the same on my blog. But would it be possible to do this more physically through drama? Can people be brought into my world, not just through writing but through playing? And what would we all learn?

Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.

afternoon sport

Amazingly, I had no idea the FA cup final was on until my carer-lady came breezing in, telling me all about it this morning. To be honest its pretty upsetting news me and graham hatched a plan yesterday to meet in the yeoman this afternoon to watch the cricket, but now it seems all pubs will be packed, their televisions set to the football. Mind you, I suspect g forgot too. Ho hum, I guess I could watch the football, silly sport though it is, and watch cricket tomorrow. Mind you, if England bowl as well as they batted yesterday, it’ll be over by kick-off.

culture show palin special

I found a decent interview with Michael Palin on youtube yesterday. I don’t get to watch much TV these days, since I don’t have a TV in my room. There’s hardly anything on these days, but oddly I miss the ability to channel hop. You know, when you just want to crash out on the sofa and turn off. Maybe I’m a little homesick, and this has brought forth a need for my old favourites – Palin, Attenborough etc. they both kind of give you a warm glow. I also think my wanderlust is fermenting again. Uni is a little depressing, now everyone’s going away. thats why I drank so much at steve’s party last night. it’s sad.

Ho hum, summer’s almost here. Cricket’s on the TV in the wes, and I’m out tonight. Wonder what Mr. Palin would make of brandies.

link. [warning – 50 mins long]


Those of you who know me quite well will know I’m a sucker for fantasy novels and films. I simply adore Tolkien, ever since dad read it to me and my brothers when I was 8 or 9. you can guess my elation, then, when I came across this yesterday. It seems the film of the hobbit will be out in two years. If lotr was anything to goby, it will be superb. see also this


when writing last nights entry, i forgot two things. firstly, ‘hey beautiful day’ is not called ‘hey beutiful day’. Its called ‘when the night fills my soul. I’ve been humming it all morning secondly, the magnificent sum of £47 was raised for onevoice. I think this is wonderful. thanks to evveryone in the gospel choir!

Smile when you say godbye

I have turned my computer on simply to record this feeling. This evening’s gospel choir concert was wonderful. It was beyond beautiful. The singing itself was extremely good, but it was something else that made the concert so bittersweet. It acted as a swansong for the entire third year, and once again I found myself wanting to cry.

Charlie did an excellent job. No doubt about it. It was almost intended to make us cry – why else should she include tearjerkers such as Joe and sally singing ‘eye of the sparrow’ and John singing ‘what a wonderful world’? there was sort of a terrible beauty about it, for the entire third year saw it as a final assembly. We all know what’s about to happen; we know our parting is inevitable, but none of us want it to happen.

Of course, there were happy tunes too. It would not be a concert by Charlie if it did not include a bob Marley medley. I suspect that she had me in mind when she left my favourite – ‘hey beautiful day – to last, allowing me to dance with Emma. In all probability, that moment was, at one and the same time, both the happiest and saddest of my life.

Charlie’s most apt inclusion was her own song, Smile When you say Goodbye, written for her brother. It truly is a happy song; yet, as I ay, we all know we will soon part.

At the end of the concert, I just felt…well, I can’t describe it. Both elated and desperately sad. It is both happy and heartbreaking. I find myself wanting time to stand still, to live forever in this moment, with all my friends. But I know it won’t. Time never ceases – there will be other people to meet, other places to see. If uni has taught me anything, it is that there are no barriers.

Sitting there, after the concert, I suddenly remembered a line from what was once my favourite book, and one which I still cherish. The words of a wise old man, delivered at a parting of friends: ”I will not say do not cry, for not all tears are evil.”


It’s been a long long day. I’ve been filling in forms and sending off letters and going to meetings. I’m just knackered, and irritated by all the little things that go wrong, and short tempered. I got the feeling that all my applications for funding would be rejected. I simply do not have experience in those things. I shouldn’t be so down because today Dave told me my mark for my heimat essay – 72, a first. I should be feeling happy, but for ome reason I’m not. Maybe later, after dinner, when I get time to relax, I’ll calm down and cheer up. Anyway, it’s the gospel choir concert tonight; they’re raising money for 1voice. Maybe by then this mood will have passed.