On my way back from the station I wandered past the little box on the bridge which always has art instillation in it and today there were paper seagulls flying round inside while the rain drenched us all. It made me smile, just a little slice of fun and chaos on a bleak Sunday when I'd usually be either hungover or avoiding work I should be completing.
My sleep pattern has been all over the place recently, before the new year I'd wake at the smallest noise in my flat and would be awake for hours, too wired to go to sleep too tired to think properly. Now I sleep for twelve hours straight one day then wake at five am and lay for hours as the sun rises behind my curtains.
My mum suggested writing things down, all the swishing thoughts that keep me up at night, and so I used one of the journals I was given for Christmas by a friend.
I've been listening to a lot of Bowie (I'm still too upset to properly write a tribute but one will come) recently and radio shows about real life crimes, movies and art to help me sleep.
There must be a secret club somewhere, of those of us who cant sleep but should sleep.
I long for nights out to last longer, till the sun rises, so I can sleep better the next night but I just end up worse than before.
I;m saying goodbye to 2015 late, as I always do, I don't think I've ever written my new years resolutions less than a week after January the 1st before and for the last few nights when I can't sleep or wake up too early I've started looking through old folders on my computer, unearthing old blurry photos from before I realized it's okay to leave auto focus on when you honestly have the worst eyesight for digital cameras.
The other day I was trying to find old selfies and instead ended up finding my 'home videos' folder which is just a few videos of me dancing in empty rooms, shakey footage of road trips that need serious editing and cute clips I took at the Stedelijk museum in Amsterdam.
Its funny because I might be going back to amsterdam this spring with my dad and grandpa and I found out around the same time as I first edited this video, then forgot about both things then when my dad asked me to look at dates I found the video again.
*PS I have no idea who the artist is, we were just sat there for a while and I left my camera running while editing a photo for instagram.
After a chill christmas and a start to 2016 spent dying in my bed due to an intense horrible cold I'm finally back in Bristol and trying to gather together the energy to face uni and work all over again for another term.
I also finally found the pictures on my computer of the Ann Veronica Janssens exhibit me and Niamh visited in London. The exhibit is at The Welcome Collection, called simply yellowbluepink it's described as both 'disorienting and uplifting' and I'm glad I'm not having to review it for real because I feel for whatever poor soul has to because it's utterly indescribable.
After waiting in the queue for half an hour and watching small groups trail into a glowing pink room my expectations were kinda 'ehh'. I'd seen photos from instagrams and thought it looked kinda interesting, maybe a bit of fun running round a smokey room for a bit.
That all changed once you stepped through the first set of doors, pass placed on your chest, watching the baby pink smoke filter through the gaps in the door and took your first steps into that world.
It hits you straight away, a thick smog that is impossible to see through, like when an airplane flies into a cloud and its a special kind of smoke and blank.
The attendants had warned us it was difficult to see and it was normal to feel disoriented and we obviously didn't pay that much attention but honestly it was so hard to see anyone more than a few feet away from you that I felt lost and confused once my friend faded into the fog.
Also my camera was playing up a bit and makes the photos look darker/murkier than it was.
Portraits in the pink
Selfies in yellow (although my camera read it as red/peach)
Blues are still Blue
Video from the Welcome collection website which kind of gives more of an idea of what it was like
I also felt like this song by Lapsley fits the exhibition with its soft overbearing and disorientating feel
