Rebirth in Spring

Spring fever was short-lived here this year. The first few days of February were beautiful; bright, sunny, warm – the daffodils just beginning to push their short green stumps out of the cold ground. But now, drawing towards the end of March, it is cold and wet and wintry. We even had a few days of snow – blown almost horizontal by the sharp wind, the small hard snowflakes stinging our faces.

I feel as though I’m waiting for the weather to change, stuck in hibernation mode, my own blooming forth curtailed.

My life is, in practical terms, completely transformed from this time last month. In February, after almost two months of anxiety and pressure, I was offered a nine-month internship with the organisation I most wanted to work with. This essentially means that I don’t have to think or worry about money or my career for the next six to nine months. It also means that I now, as of the beginning of March, have somewhere to be six hours a day five days a week, and mountain loads of work and responsibility.

I am glad to be doing something concrete every day. If there’s one thing that the past six months have taught me, it’s that I probably could never be entirely self-employed; I would at the very least need somewhere to be going out every day, and preferably someone to be working alongside with. As the months dragged on, I became less and less productive, whiling way the hours of each day. Having somewhere to be every day, and specific work laid out for me to do, seemed necessary for me; at least for a certain amount of time every week.

But the transition stage is being a lot tougher than I expected. I feel… somehow less clear, more muddied, than I would have expected. As though I’m walking around in a kind of haze. I go to work, I come home and relax (being productive after work is sill not on the cards in terms of energy levels), and despite having quite a lot of time to myself, when I go to bed at night I feel like I don’t really know who I am anymore. As though I haven’t spent any time with myself in a long time – as though I have been absent from myself.

I wanted this new start to be huge, to change my mood and my habits and my personality all in one fell swoop. These catalysts rarely work out the way you expect them to, though. I am still expecting to reach that point, that feeling that I was hoping for. But it might take a few months.

I did, however, sign myself up for a ballet class. This was, perhaps, my primary triumphant move in my reinvention of myself. I flew in the face of my own procrastination and hesitation, and went ahead and paid for an 8-week term. So two weeks ago, I had never taken a dance class in my life. Now, I feel as though I’m starting to learn a new language, alongside my new life. A language of French words that translate to instructions of movement; a language of the limbs, of the legs, of strengthening and lengthening. I feel fantastic afterwards. Maybe not changed and renewed and courageous like I had hoped, but healthy. Calm.

But so far, these new and strange daily tasks at my computer in work, these weekly new and strange physical instructions, are combining to make me feel like a puppet. I feel pulled, drawn, exhausted, mindless. But any week now, I expect my energy to figure itself out. I will be able to cut the strings and dance.

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Work-free, tooth-free

Well, I finished the librarianship Masters last Friday, so I guess that makes me officially a qualified librarian. It’s all been a bit of an anticlimax though, because I had the pesky tooth finally removed the previous Tuesday, and I ended up not being able to do any more work on it after that. It was lucky it was a group thesis, as it meant the rest of the group could take over with getting it in, otherwise I might’ve had to get an extension.

So basically the past week has been a haze of recovery. I spent three days looking like a chipmunk and vomiting regularly, which was a lot of fun. And then I ended up with a fluey thing on top of the tooth pain and discomfort. But over the past few days I’ve finally been feeling more like myself. I’m hoping to get back to photography over the next few days, and writing too.

With the end of this masters, and the start of a new (renewed) relationship, right now is very much a time of change and new beginnings. I’ve had the time and space to do a lot of thinking – about my writing, about where I want to go from here, what direction I want my life to go in. And also about larger philosophical and existential questions that I regularly come back to.

I feel that I want this blog to take a slightly different turn, but I’m not sure how. I like the idea of having a better structure to it – maybe a specific type of writing each week, and particular days when I post photographs, to give it some structure. I absolutely love The Boy With A Hat’s 50-word stories, so I suppose that kind of thing is what I mean, though of course I don’t mean to copy him!

Alternatively, I might start a new category of posts. I picked up a pencil and drew for a while today for the first time in years, so who knows, maybe that will turn into something.

For the moment, it’s over and out. But I’m hoping to reinvigorate Sirens & Muses very soon!

Catch your fall

He’s closer now
He’s closer now to losing
To losing it all
And he’s closer now
He’s closer to the
Final fall

She pushed him to
She pushed him to a cliff top
A knife edge
But his love still holds
And his heart enfolds
The crumbs she’s left

But when he jumps
He will fly like a fallen angel
Without wings
And when he jumps
He will leave behind
All the mess she’s left him in

I will not let you drown
And I’ll be waiting on the ground
To catch your fall
I will never let you drown
I have learned from my mistakes
And I’ll be waiting on the ground
To catch your fall

He wakes up cold
He wakes up cold and shaken
And shaken by life
Cos the nights are long
And he prays for day
But it looks worse by light

He’s tired of this
He’s tired of crying
And that’s how it starts
But I’m not her
And I’ll never be
Cos I don’t break hearts

But when he’s ready
He will face the truth
And she’ll come tumbling down
He’ll spread his arms
Like wings or a crucifixion
And embrace

I will not let you drown
And I’ll be waiting on the ground
To catch your fall
No I will never let you drown
You won’t suffer my mistakes
And I’ll be waiting on the ground
To catch your fall

He will suffer
He will not believe
That he can survive
He will suffer
He will learn
And he will heal

Cos the saddest thing about love
Is that you can just have enough
And then it stops

But I will, I will not let you down
I will, I will not let you drown
No I will never let you drown
I won’t let you suffer my mistakes
And I’ll be waiting on the ground
To catch your fall.

Cherry Tree

The first raindrop
upon my rooftop.
The first teardrop
singular and lonely on my cheek.
But I’m not grieving,
no, I’ve just stopped believing
in the undying truth
of the words I’ve yet to hear you speak.

The first star dies
in my black skies.
The first fallen sun
so graceful in decline.
And I’m not leaving,
my heart is only bleeding
at the thought of losing
what we might find.

Watch me, watch me fall.
You make me feel too much.
Watch me, watch me lose
my heart to you.
I surrender
I surrender it now.

One cherry tree
still holds its blossoms.
I want to stand beneath it with you
and watch them fall.
We will catch them in handfuls
and I will kiss you
until the petals coat the ground
and I can’t feel at all.