Has seen some blessed times, but now I’m sad and sulking for missing my first gig of the year because I’m ill and skint and just not up for doing things. 2016 exhausted me. Had a beautiful time last weekend seeing friends though, drawing on happy memories to drg through. That and plans of better times ahead.
So, here are my plans/goals/wishes for this year:
- learn to drive
- cycle regularly
- more poetry
- perform at some more places
- get some performance videos done
- perform at festivals
- get my show on the road
- write a new book of conceptual stuff
- actualise some visual/video/multimedia creation
- get some decent boots and walk
- walk long ways
- have adventures
- get strong – lift weights, run, yoga, eat food that isn’t cheese
- blog and diary and record everything
- get some proficiency in tarot reading
- meditation focus
- graduate from DBT having learned all the skills and able to use them in life
- carry on helping out at Derbyshire Refugee Soidarity
- do more Belper stuff
- get new glasses
- go foraging
- get my stupid painful tooth sorted out/stop moaning about the tooth
- go to more amazing camps and festivals
- visit many friends, especially the ones I haven’t visited in years
- learn/revise Basic First Aid
- learn a few tunes by heart on the tin whistle
- learn to crochet
- sell a load of stuff to declutter and fund all this
- apply for a Masters (finance permitting)
- don’t drink all the damn time
- get some independent self sufficiency
- get some community
- Edited to add: Run the Tenby Half Marathon again! What am I even doing?! My family talk me into these ridiculous things.
I think that’s enough to be going on with. I’ve made a start today by putting a couple of things on ebay, and I’ve been keeping organised with a Bullet Journal and to do lists. I know Bullet Journal sounds like an enraging gimmick, but I was doing the basic form for half of last year and found it really helpful,so I’m carrying on. Got no memory in general, so writing it down helps.
Keep your peepers open though folks, maybe some interesting things will happen this year…
Everyone told me that Arbor Low, toppled stone circle and barrowful of bones, was a place of bad vibes. So of course I had to go. Sunday was sunny and bright, the kind of day that makes you ache to get out of the house. Chris drove us into the countryside along a series of narrowing and increasingly rutted trails, following the Satnav because we still foolishly haven’t gotten round to buying a map. Yes, that’s right. We’re those idiots, charging into the unknown, relying on Google Maps and Chris’ uncanny homing pigeon abilities to save us.
So we found Arbor Low, and the cheeky farmer trying to charge an access toll because you have to walk through their field to get there. The circle is on high ground, and the surrounding earthwork is imposing, giving a sense of shadowed claustrophobia to the central ring of stones. To induce claustrophobia on top of a moor, under a beautiful blue sky, is quite a feat. The rest of the landscape has such a feeling of expansiveness, entering the circle is like feeling a cloud cover the sun. Each stone lies flat in the grass, toppled perhaps by witch-fearing medieval folk or just the ravages of time. The wind whips around the circle, the head-high raised earthworks somehow offering no shelter at any angle. Sheep wander freely, and some hikers sat happily picnicking on one of the stones. That seemed like a bad idea. Too many ghosts for sure, and maybe they’re contagious. The least evil-feeling place was, surprisingly, the round barrow forming part of the earthworks, where archeologists have found human remains and grave goods. They also found human remains in the centre of the circle. Human sacrifices? Honoured burials? The neolithic equivalent of someone doing Black Mass in your favourite cathedral? It’s a mystery.
The feeling of sorrow is there. A similar melancholy to ruined churches, but with more than a touch of enmity. 4000 years is a heavy weight of history. So now there’s a place which could have been beautiful, now haunted by ghosts and hostile weeping, out there on the moors. It’s cold and lonely at Arbor Low.
For more fascinating historical info on this place, click here. They seem to know their stuff, and cite a fascinating array of historical sources.
As for myself, maybe I’ll do a cleansing ritual just in case. The mourning of the Earth is not to be trifled with.