Bird cyclone

A little more about me.

I’m quite arty and creative, but my technical skills are poor. After school I attended art college for two years before taking a year in a specialist psychiatric unit. Upon leaving the unit I went back to college for another year, though this was interrupted by a number of acute psych. admissions. Somehow I qualified! I have a vivid imagination and an admiration for conceptual work. I envy people who are either creatively neat, precise and considered, or wildly and unabashedly expressive. I am neither, and usually succeed in creating little more than a mess.

I take photos a lot. Not with any special camera, but with a smartphone which is so outdated I can’t even download apps to crop or adjust photos so I end up with terrible filters. The photo in this entry was taken today. It’s only part of the photo though? Strange.

Anyway! Today I went for a walk, even though the rain was pouring down (again). The young trees were sitting in puddles; the grass was waterlogged. There were swarms of birds flying in unusual, deliberate patterns between skeletal branches. 

The large expanse of grass was a good place to see they sky changing clearly. Colours and shadows moved slowly over church steeples and the surrounding trees were still strung with Christmas lights.

I had lunch at a pub over the other side – a savoury, vegetarian pastry with buttered new potatoes and squeaky beans – before walking through one of the more expensive areas of town, where houses have their own gated drives (with intercoms) and one or two rivers meandering through their gardens. 

This day smelt of flowery hand cream hung outside the door of a shop, slightly smoky air, and oven chips. It felt like clean teeth, cuddles from mum, the sock in my walking boot slipping off, and muscle micro-movements trying not to slide in the mud. It sounded like whistling coffee machines, rain against the window and music nostalgia (if you leave me now, you take away the biggest paaaart of me… woooohooohooo… ). It tasted of burnt buttery pastry and tangy hot apple juice. It looked like extremely large dogs on red leads, rainwater bubbling up out of overwhelmed drains, extravagant high-backed chairs and fences with crumbling old paintwork.

This entry is fragmented because of poor concentration. That’s okay.

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