The Heart of Art

Fun, Life

The two things I love the most in the world are the arts, and community arts.

The arts I love because they are the thing which makes us humans so unique. We create beautiful, thought-provoking, subversive things and then we share them with other people and that makes them happy, or widens their perspective, or teaches them something. And we do it out of sheer brainpower diverted into a huge range of creative pursuits.

I firmly believe art is one of the most significant things we contribute to the universe, and the fact that our government continues to devalue it, as does the world in general, is so painful to watch.

But that’s where my second favourite thing comes in, which is community arts. Because what is more pure than taking the arts, and making them for everyone. I worry that we will never reach a place where artists and their skill are truly valued (we still constantly offer people “exposure” or “experience” instead of “money” in the arts) but the beauty of community arts is that those of us who know the arts will never be our profession can still get involved. Singing, dancing, pottery or poetry, there are more and more community-led opportunities springing up than ever before.

Community arts, and community in general, is really important to me, because as our world declines into political chaos, there is less and less hope of the government ensuring that arts are any kind of priority (or welfare provision, or equality and inclusion, or really anything we care about and actually value, but whatever. Y’all wanna go spend our money on missiles, FINE. We’ll sort out our own stuff). So we have to do it ourselves. We have to create space and opportunities which allow everyone to get involved and access creativity which broadens their horizons.

There’s only one way it works though, and that’s if everyone gets on board. So, here’s the deal. If you have a concert, a show, a display or a workshop, let me know, and I will do my best to come. If you run a raffle or a fundraiser, I’ll buy tickets or buy in. And in return, you have to do the same with every opportunity you see.

Community arts is thriving, but it needs the community to be fully behind it if that is going to continue. We need an audience, we need participants, and we need supporters.

No room in frame (a #metoo story)

Life

I’ve been listening to a great podcast called Invisibilia. It’s all about the things which inherently connect us, but we never really think about or see, and it’s totally fascinating (aside from being well researched and produced, which is always a plus).

The episode I listened to on my walk to work today was about individual frame of reference, and how important it is to how we see and process the world around us, and after a couple of other conversations today, it has really struck a chord. The first section focused on a person with Asperger’s Syndrome, and their realisations about their perceptions of the world vs the perceptions of those around them.

It got me thinking, because while I don’t have Asperger’s, I know I process the world differently from other people. I really struggle to find commonality with my peers, and regularly catch myself thinking of myself as outside of the conversation. These things don’t belong to me, I don’t understand these experiences, they are not for me to engage in, enjoy, bear witness to. It’s not active, or purposeful, it’s just part of my psyche.

And it’s not that I think my experiences are different necessarily, not in a way that is more valuable than someone else’s. It’s the opposite in fact – I feel like I have not had any experiences to the level whereby I can use them to help define myself.

My personal frame of reference is quite broad. I have experienced a range of different socio-economic environments, a range of political viewpoints, an international family and upbringing, and diverse lived experiences. But maybe because of that diversity, I feel like my experience is very shallow. Without meaning to be offensive to any readers, I’d say my life has been consistently mediocre and unremarkable.

So, what are you rambling on about then?

Part of what I realised today, is that due to my own perception of the mediocrity of my existence, and my tendency to other myself, I diminish many of my experiences simply because they are diminished within my own frame of reference.

Here’s my example. A number of times in my life, I have been sexually harassed. It’s never been extreme, I’ve never felt fundamentally unsafe, and I’ve never lost control of the situation. I’ve told my harassers what I thought of them, or ignored them, and I’ve moved on with my life. It has not massively bothered me.

I don’t know why it hasn’t bothered me. But there’s something about my personal frame of reference which means that I haven’t reacted to it, other than to say that it wasn’t a big deal, plenty of people have it much worse, I was probably perfectly safe.

And then today I listened to my podcast, and realised that just because I don’t think it’s a big deal, doesn’t mean that someone else will feel the same way. Which is not to say that if you have an experience you are in any way required to disclose that. But if it makes no difference to you, but might make a difference to someone else, then maybe it’s a thing worth considering.

I do not feel like I have a place in the #metoo movement, and writing this post hasn’t changed that. I still feel like my experiences are vastly diminished in comparison with those of many people. But we live in a world where we perpetuate negative activities by pretending they are a one-off, or that they are unimportant, simply because they don’t feature in our personal frame of reference. And our inability to stand in another person’s place and have empathy with them is allowing people like Donald Trump and Brett Kavanaugh and hundreds of others to get away with unspeakable things.

So you know what, #metoo.

Things I learnt on my holidays

Fun, Travel

I’ve spent the last week in Northern Ireland, and it has been AMAZING. Other than the Giant’s Causeway I really didn’t know what I wanted to see, but I’m lucky enough to have a best friend with all the right knowledge, and a welcoming family to boot. So I couldn’t have been in better hands.

Here are the things I learnt:

  1. The Giant’s Causeway is totally worth it, but definitely go in a storm so that you can combine fear of being blown into the ocean with actually getting to be the only people on the Causeway.
  2. Northern Ireland is excellently provisioned with public toilets.
  3. If you want my money, just make a fridge magnet of your attraction (I came home with 3)
  4. Potato bread is king of the breakfast potato products.
  5. I can withstand gale-force winds.
  6. Rope bridges are fun.
  7. Safely make it across a rope bridge suspended above the tumultuous waters of the Irish Sea? Easy. Just walk along a promenade without throwing my own face at the floor? Can’t do it mate.
  8. I still know all of the words to “Unsinkable Dream” from the Titanic musical I was in when I was about 12.
  9. All of Northern Ireland is in fact Game of Thrones.

NI

Credit to the lovely Mr Gordon for photos containing me (because we all know I can’t take photos of myself on account of my tiny arms)

Little Wanderer

Language, Music, Travel

Bear with me today. I have a cold and my brain feels SO HEAVY rattling around in my skull. I’m not sure if any of my thoughts are going to make any sense, but it’s a while since I shared any regardless, so here goes.

I’ve been listening to Kintsugi (by Death Cab for Cutie, for the uninitiated) on loop for about the last month. And it’s amazing how when you go back to music you hear lyrics differently, or in a new way. I didn’t love their previous album, Codes and Keys, and I think I gave Kintsugi a cursory listen before setting it aside and deciding that I’d only listen to Plans for the rest of my life.

Then I got tickets to see them again in January, and I felt I should catch myself back up. Boy am I glad I did. Your mindset is everything about how you appreciate music, and I appreciate Kintsugi now because I think I have a “kintsugi” mindset. For those who have not yet run to google, let me explain:

Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise

And I mean, how great is that. To recognise that everything about our journey is worth displaying, and that patched-up things can still be beautiful, maybe more beautiful than the original version.

The track I’m particularly fixated on is ‘Little Wanderer’, which I maybe didn’t ever make it to on my first listen, or allowed to blend into the background. I have no idea how, because now that I have given it time I’m falling in love. I think that Death Cab construct their tracks perfectly (I’ve always adored ‘Summer Skin’ just for the structure of the piece instrumentally) and Little Wanderer is rapidly climbing to those dizzy heights.

I also love it because it reminds me of travelling, and that’s something which I’ve not done for so long, I’d slightly forgotten the joy of it all. Today I went and watched Mamma Mia 2 (singalong, of course) and that also reminded me of travelling, and seeing the world in technicolour, and finding the things you love, and leaving the things you love behind, and knowing that they’ll still exist even if you’re miles away.

I apologised at the start, because I knew this post would run away with itself, but here’s what I think I’m trying to capture – I’m so proud of all of my experiences, even the ones which left me a little broken and in need of some repair, and I love having cause to look back on all of the things I’ve seen and all the places I’ve seen them. Here’s to making memories and mistakes, and finding the things you love and knowing that you can go back to them.

Secret Boudoir, Ultimate Man Cave, Apocalypse Bunker

Fun, Language, Life

If you haven’t watched “Amazing Interiors” on Netflix then I thoroughly recommend it. It has been a long day, but now I get to relax and watch a mad American transform a field of bunkers into luxury survival palaces, while a little Italian man expounds his love of faux-baroque design in totally comical French.

It does remind me, however, that I really need to do something with my house. Not that I haven’t done *things* since I moved in, it’s just I haven’t really got round to many of the fun things. I’ve repaired the roof (or rather a fully qualified team of people repaired my roof), I’ve had wiring checked and amended, and I’ve had meters installed. But that’s not fun.

The next plan is to sort out the kitchen. It needs a couple of coats at least of magnolia or cream, to brighten it up and to cover the greasy hand-marks left by my predecessor’s kids. I’m looking forward to getting my Cinderella poster up on the wall, though the fact that it is 5 and a half years since the show is a bit of a sore point.

Next, I’ll move onto the office, which is currently a very fetching shade of yellow. I haven’t decided yet what to do with it, so all suggestions are welcomed – it just needs to continue to house all of my many things, so I’ll probably be avoiding busy wallpaper and things (though there is one wall which is a contender for Marvel wallpaper – depending on quite how young I’m feeling on the day).

In the meantime though, I’ll keep watching Amazing Interiors and making plans for the madness I can inject into my tiny piece of land – maybe by hiding exciting graffiti behind every door, or painting all of the ceilings gold. The possibilities are endless.

Craft Corner

Fun, Life

This week I have been *tired*. I mean it. Today I was basically a zombie at work all day. I can’t tell you a single thing I did (but I can tell you that I definitely did lots of work – hi there any colleagues reading this).

I’ve been that kind of tired where your body just feels a bit too old for your skin. Everything aches, my eyes can’t focus properly, getting off the sofa every evening to go to bed has felt like a trial.

And then, I got home this evening and suddenly had all the energy.

So, I made a pinafore dress out of all the jeans I’ve recently ruined. I ruin jeans fairly often because I have Thighs For Days. I think if I were body-confident and also 10 years younger I’d potentially describe them as thicc. Instead, I’ll just go ahead and describe them as “fairly stocky”. For a tiny little lady, I have quite a lot of thigh, and my cheap high-street jeans just cannot cope.

The big issue with women’s clothing (as we know) is lack of pockets, so I decided I’d make a dress out of all the bits of the jeans which include pockets. I chopped out a number of panels before deciding that really the only pockets I wanted to keep were the back pockets (sensible patch pockets without additional faff, basically). I saved the waistbands to make the straps, because they are already the right shape, and the buttons make for handy fastenings.

Ultimately, it’s not exactly the height of fashion, but it has pockets pockets pockets, and it’s dead comfy.  And having had absolutely no energy all week, I’ll take whatever results I can get.

(Not a professional model, or photographer, just to clarify)

This Sceptred Isle

Travel

I am hugely lucky that in my life so far I have traveled a lot, and lived in 3 other countries than the UK. I’m not the most adventurous person, and I do sometimes wish that I’d done more when I was a bit younger (a gap year to Asia, for stereotypical example), but nevertheless I’ve been to about 20 countries so far, across 4 continents.

And yet, as I’m reminded every time I have a break from work, there’s nowhere I love more than the British Isles. I’m currently in Cornwall, for the first time in my life, and I’m totally in love. The thing I’ve realised though is that this isn’t a new feeling – wherever I go in the British Isles (specifically selected language because Ireland is AMAZING) I fall head over heels within seconds.

We’ve been favoured by the weather in the last few days which of course makes a difference, but I can imagine that in the wind and rain it would be equally as beautiful, if  a bit more aggressive. The north Cornish coast is quite stark in many ways, lots of brushland covering the deceptively mobile sand dunes, which until a few years ago routinely buried St Enodoc church, nearby.

The house we are staying in is a modern mansion, not quite the Agatha Christie 30s murder-house I had in mind. Still, you can imagine taking tea with the vicar on the veranda, while Miss* Marple examines the body in the study. It’s honestly like being in a novel.

Yesterday we visited Tintagel castle – those of you who know me will know that I have a massive soft-spot for a castle – and it was absolutely glorious. If I were King Arthur, I’d have picked there for a castle as well, with astonishing views over the rolling ocean, easily defensible from the mainland, and with a cave underneath for the wizard to live in. What more do you need in a castle?

I’m looking forward to a couple more days here, but already resolved that I need to go out in the next few months and see more of Leeds again. Sometimes it’s easy to get stuck into the daily grind, and to forget how wonderful the world is, even just 15 minutes from your front door.

See you for some more #hometowntourism soon basically. You’re welcome.

*had to retrospectively edit this because I initially put Mrs Marple, and I’m so horribly offended by my own errors. I love Christie and I’ve read them all, and it’s definitely Miss Marple, or Jane Marple, or Aunt Jane, and I’m so sorry

Starter Pack

Fun, Life

Straight out of 2014 (because I absolutely do not conform to trends/am always quite late to everything because of who I am as a person) I decided it might be fun to create a ‘Sally’ starter pack.

I honestly don’t know why, but it’s Sunday and I’m not really that interested in the football, so you’re welcome.

So now you know how you can get my life in just a few simple steps (which I know is what you’ve all been waiting for, you’re [doubly] welcome)

Elite Pastry

Food, Fun, Work

I tried to call this post “cake or death?” but it turns out I’ve used that one before. The problem with writing a sporadic blog over an 8 year period is that occasionally you have the same thoughts twice.

Also 8 years. Let’s just all take that in a bit shall we. I have been wittering on the internet for 8 years, and people have been reading it. I had 18 views today. From who? Who knows? It’s all very exciting.

The length of time I’ve spent writing this blog was highlighted to me today because one of my former colleagues graduated from her undergraduate English degree today, and it reminded me that I graduated from my first degree five years ago. Which feels like a mix of no time and just a huge expansive amount of time ago.

But Sally, wasn’t this going to be about cake?

Yes it was, but I sidetracked myself with nostalgia, you’re welcome.

For the uninitiated, I love baking. One of the greatest joys of owning a house has been the ability to bake almost every weekend, and sometimes mid-week as well. I bake cakes mostly, and buns, sometimes scones. I’ve yet to do bread, but have big plans for later in the summer.

I am ashamed to say I have not seen the most recent season of GBBO Professionals (I have sworn off normal GBBO since the Channel 4 move, but Creme de la creme was too good to miss) but I do plan on going back to it. I’ve seen all of Nailed It (if you haven’t then get yourself over to Netflix NOW).

But my new hobby and secret passion is watching baking montage videos on Instagram. In particular I’m a fan of an account called pastry_academy_of_elite (and no, not just for the name). The account reposts the most amazing baking, stunning mirror glazes, and just insanely detailed and beautiful pastries. As you’d probably expect really. I find myself just scrolling through on autopilot now, admiring all their beautiful creations.

As for me – some of my baking is moderately pretty, but there’s a way to go. All tastes nice though.

Get Found

Language, Life

I love getting lost. Not “I-was-meant-to-arrive-half-an-hour-ago-and-I-still-can’t-get-off-this-ring-road” lost (a frequent type of lost I encounter), but the kind of lost where you’re wandering along and then look up and realise you’re somewhere new and interesting. The kind of place you only find accidentally, probably because you’re already lost in your own thoughts.

I hate feeling lost, however, which I feel increasingly often. Sometimes it feels like the world is moving very quickly and I’m struggling to keep up, and I don’t have people there to egg me on in the same way, or help me work out which direction to go when I get confused and scared. Or rather, I have some people, and those people are great (cheers to those people) but they can’t always be there, and sometimes I lose them as well accidentally, and then it’s all just a whole bundle of lost.

So, like everything in my life (apparently), I’ve approached it from a linguistic point of view. Why am I worried about feeling lost, or being lost? Maybe I should just be focusing on getting found.

And before we continue, let’s clarify what we mean by get found. I am not looking for talent scouts. Photos of me are not posted somewhere on the internet (except here, and Facebook, and Instagram, and…shut up). I just mean getting that feeling of comfort you get when you’re in a place you know really well, or with people you know really well. Warm and fuzzy and home.

A great way to get found is to make everywhere feel like home, so I’ve been paying more attention when I walk. Which is more impressive when you remember quite how obsessive I am about my surroundings and seeing new and interesting things (for reference, my instagram)

I know that 10 years down the line (if blogging/the internet/the Earth still exists then) this is going to be one of those posts that I look back on and cringe, but right now, this is the thing I want to capture. Sometimes, life is scary, and it takes you in directions you weren’t expecting which almost always means you don’t end up where you’d planned. Don’t let it get to you. You don’t have to feel lost, you can find yourself (this is the cringe moment, you’re welcome) instead.