Monday, 4 December 2017

Let It Happen...

“Holly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?

Paul: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?

Holly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?

Paul: Sure.”    
Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

I haven’t written anything for a while now.

I’d been keeping myself busy, cramming as much as I could into every free second of the day, then the other week; I came home, and did… nothing.

I guess things just peaked. I felt a bit overwhelmed. I wanted to do everything and ultimately, ended up doing nothing.

I went to work. I came home, turning the music up louder and pouring endless podcasts into my ear holes to drown out the sound of silence and self-questionning.

Sometimes things feel a little fuzzy. Tackling small tasks felt monumental and navigating the day would suddenly feel like trying to crack the enigma code, or deciphering a crossword – one of those hard ones that only your Nan can do.

There can be confusion in the banality of the everyday, often minus the reason, and seemingly, without the resolve.

Writing it down can be cathartic. Spilling thoughts out on to the page. Lessening the load so to speak. However, it can also bring its own anxieties. All of a sudden all of those irrational fears feel very concrete. I didn’t want to have to write another post tinged with melancholy.

But there is something to be gained in taking a reflective pause.

Just like that expired 35mm film, you start to notice there’s something special about the blips in the process, there’s flickers of light in the shadows and a certain kind of comfort in the graininess, and the knowledge that things will become clearer and sharper, just as they did before.

Photos by: Yvonne McKeown.

Wearing: Dress, Bag (similar) & Boots by Zara, Trench coat by New Look.  
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