Comfort in Sound

Comfort in Sound

home-chair.jpg

Martin and I are no longer together.

This is the elephant sat in the room with me. I'm sad and it's weird, which is to be expected when we spent two years together. Two years of sharing spaces and sharing experiences.

The night he moved his stuff from the flat I went drinking with one of my best friends; and because we're both so punk-rock we were curled up in my cloud at eleven o'clock at night. Over a greasy-spoon breakfast, hazed with hangover (if you've never watched Absolutely Fabulous, why not?), she asked me what I'm going to do now.

I laid on my closest friends sofa and he asked me if I wanted to talk about it and I said no and shortly after pretended to fall asleep. After staring at his lampshade that I've always coveted for hours I came home to the cats and the quiet.

It's difficult when you love in such a detached way. I love from a distance and I love with my absence. My silence says I love you and I care and my silence says I never ever want to hurt you.

My life these few weeks is very new, I have a new dining table, rendering my desk pretty much useless. I have new chairs for the table. I have new pillows and a duvet from my Father. I have a new daylight lamp to make the dark nights not so dark. I have a few new gifted pieces of clothing. My Aloe Vera plant has new sprouty bits and I think my Orchid is coming back for it's second round of blooms. I bought myself a new sketchbook and new pens because I was bereft that day and spending money seemed like the best way to ease that (it wasn't and it never is).

I'm not good with new-ness. As much as I try to take care of things, they always show the wear and tear of being used, and if that isn't a metaphor for my body and brain; I don't know what is. I'm not good with change or trying something new. I have a perpetual fear of looking ignorant which keeps me in my not-so-comfy-comfort zone.

I'm tired of things feeling new. Part of me feels too old for this crap again. I forgot that when relationships end people talk and this talk gets back to others. I forgot that someone ends up getting blamed, and I forgot what it's like to miss someone. I know that it had to happen in some ways, but it's going to take time for heart to stop aching.

John Berger - The Reading List

John Berger - The Reading List

Internet Art in 2016

Internet Art in 2016