Last year our creative writing group at IPO/ONS put together a publication of short fiction under the title 'A Winter Bizarre' which was sold at our respective workplaces for charity. Here is my contribution; a story adapted from a longer project that I have had in mind for quite a while. This piece is called 'Minding Amy'.
Enjoy.
MINDING AMY
Saturday, 11 February 2012
On Horses, Canaries and Flattened Laundries
It is with much regret that the subject of my earlier post has now ceased to be. Or at least is in the process of it. Sadly, The Old Laundry at Penylan is being demolished as I speak. Or type, rather.
A bit melodramatic perhaps as this was to be expected; I never really thought the campaign to save the building was strong enough to take on the might of the developers, and that is a real pity. But it is sad to see such a quirky building disappear to be replaced by what I imagine to be a dull residential block of flats, no matter how "architecturally sensitive" to the area the developers may claim them to be. But then that's the direction I imagine our society to be heading anyway - the all the quirkiness ironed out to be replaced by reliably dull, bland homogenisation. I fully expect to be bulldozed any day now.
But it's been a pretty good week; as I mentioned in an earlier post, Stu and I went to see Spielberg's adaptation of Michael Morpurgo's 1982 children's novel War Horse at the Cineworld in Newport on Tuesday. It was pretty much as I expected; a solid Hollywood movie but one that is old-fashioned in nature. There's little flash but a lot of drama, the dialogue veering on the side of cheesy (Hollywood-cheesy that is), great leaps in logic and cinematography by Spielberg's regular DOP Janusz Kaminski that gives the film a bizarre artificial aspect, especially in the early scenes which look like they have been filmed in the studio even though the actors are on location. But I have to say, it was never less than entertaining and kept me enthralled for the two and a half hours. But I didn't cry as some said I would - dammit, I am not letting that guy manipulate my emotions like he did with E.T.!
Finally, a little something about a book I have just finished reading. My fabulous sister Marcia bought me Sandi Toksvig's wonderful Hitler's Canary for Christmas, a book based on the experiences of Toksvig's father during the Nazi occupation of Denmark during World War II. It's written simply (from a young boy's point of view) but is intelligent, thoroughly gripping and, of course, Toksvig's fabulous humour permeates the proceedings. And I learned a lot about a side of World War II I never even knew - so much is made about the UK, France and Germany during this time but what about the smaller countries? They have tales to tell too. A brilliant book, thoroughly recommended.
Thus ends Lance's reviews of the week. I'm off now to knock some vodka down my throat and heat up a rather fine home-made chilli while practising my tap-dance steps in the kitchen. Sans tap shoes though. Last time I did that the landlord's red kitchen tiles were peppered with silver streaks. He was not happy.
A bit melodramatic perhaps as this was to be expected; I never really thought the campaign to save the building was strong enough to take on the might of the developers, and that is a real pity. But it is sad to see such a quirky building disappear to be replaced by what I imagine to be a dull residential block of flats, no matter how "architecturally sensitive" to the area the developers may claim them to be. But then that's the direction I imagine our society to be heading anyway - the all the quirkiness ironed out to be replaced by reliably dull, bland homogenisation. I fully expect to be bulldozed any day now.
But it's been a pretty good week; as I mentioned in an earlier post, Stu and I went to see Spielberg's adaptation of Michael Morpurgo's 1982 children's novel War Horse at the Cineworld in Newport on Tuesday. It was pretty much as I expected; a solid Hollywood movie but one that is old-fashioned in nature. There's little flash but a lot of drama, the dialogue veering on the side of cheesy (Hollywood-cheesy that is), great leaps in logic and cinematography by Spielberg's regular DOP Janusz Kaminski that gives the film a bizarre artificial aspect, especially in the early scenes which look like they have been filmed in the studio even though the actors are on location. But I have to say, it was never less than entertaining and kept me enthralled for the two and a half hours. But I didn't cry as some said I would - dammit, I am not letting that guy manipulate my emotions like he did with E.T.!
Finally, a little something about a book I have just finished reading. My fabulous sister Marcia bought me Sandi Toksvig's wonderful Hitler's Canary for Christmas, a book based on the experiences of Toksvig's father during the Nazi occupation of Denmark during World War II. It's written simply (from a young boy's point of view) but is intelligent, thoroughly gripping and, of course, Toksvig's fabulous humour permeates the proceedings. And I learned a lot about a side of World War II I never even knew - so much is made about the UK, France and Germany during this time but what about the smaller countries? They have tales to tell too. A brilliant book, thoroughly recommended.
Thus ends Lance's reviews of the week. I'm off now to knock some vodka down my throat and heat up a rather fine home-made chilli while practising my tap-dance steps in the kitchen. Sans tap shoes though. Last time I did that the landlord's red kitchen tiles were peppered with silver streaks. He was not happy.
Tuesday, 7 February 2012
You gotta hit low...
...to appreciate the highs. At least, that's the philosophy I'm adopting at the moment and it seems to be working for me.
I was prepared for the beginning of 2012 to be a hard slog in many ways. Not only was I financially depressed due to the excesses of Christmas and losing a day's wage through the November strike (something I was happy to do, mind), I had to steel myself for the final clearing of Dad's house. I had set aside the first week in January for this and co-ordinated with other family members to help out. The actual process was engrossing as we only had limited time to completely empty the building of the contents and dispose of/keep the items therein as we saw fit. It was only after it was finally done did the upset finally hit and the grieving properly began.
However, by the end of January my mood had lightened - I was not deliriously happy or anything like that but rather a feeling of contentment had settled within me. Of course the sadness of finally losing my one remaining parent permeates every single day, but I feel I am dealing with it better than expected. A lot of this however is due to external factors.
Saturday 28 January was a particularly good day for me. It was a cold, brightly sunny morning and I was walking round Roath Park, taking pictures and generally feeling happy. Thinking back, it had been a good week for me and I had been helped enormously by a couple of wonderful individuals. I had been on a 2 day committee meeting up in Birmingham earlier in the week and in the evening I met up with a lovely guy called Martin who I had been corresponding with through the Tantra4GayMen website. We had a meal, went to a gay pub and nattered constantly about everything - coming out, sex, tantra, union stuff, massage, yoga, work, more sex... I found I could chat to him easily and without inhibition. It was a lovely evening.
Then on Friday my friend Jonathan (one of the most beautiful individuals on the planet) gave me a follow up Reiki session to the one he had given just before Christmas. He noted how different I was from the initial session - happier, calmer, the energies flowing more freely round my body. And to be honest I felt much better too. It may have been the Reiki or just spending time in Jonathan's company that left me on a high that continued into the next day. Here is a shameless plug for his website - Greenfield Therapy.
Since then I feel I have a much more positive outlook (oh and the tap dance DEFINITELY helps!!) and I guess it was working through the bereavement of both my parents that has instilled that in me. There's a long way to go and I will admit I'm not the quickest on the uptake. But with an upbeat frame of mind - and knowing some wonderful individuals - I feel quietly optimistic that this year will be quite good. Well, when you're on the bottom you've got no option but to look up.
Anyway, enough of that. Stu and I are off to see Spielberg's 'War Horse' in Newport tonight; it's highly likely that it will be overly sentimental and a tad slushy and I'll cry like a baby, but who cares. I'm quite partial to that right now.
I was prepared for the beginning of 2012 to be a hard slog in many ways. Not only was I financially depressed due to the excesses of Christmas and losing a day's wage through the November strike (something I was happy to do, mind), I had to steel myself for the final clearing of Dad's house. I had set aside the first week in January for this and co-ordinated with other family members to help out. The actual process was engrossing as we only had limited time to completely empty the building of the contents and dispose of/keep the items therein as we saw fit. It was only after it was finally done did the upset finally hit and the grieving properly began.
However, by the end of January my mood had lightened - I was not deliriously happy or anything like that but rather a feeling of contentment had settled within me. Of course the sadness of finally losing my one remaining parent permeates every single day, but I feel I am dealing with it better than expected. A lot of this however is due to external factors.
Saturday 28 January was a particularly good day for me. It was a cold, brightly sunny morning and I was walking round Roath Park, taking pictures and generally feeling happy. Thinking back, it had been a good week for me and I had been helped enormously by a couple of wonderful individuals. I had been on a 2 day committee meeting up in Birmingham earlier in the week and in the evening I met up with a lovely guy called Martin who I had been corresponding with through the Tantra4GayMen website. We had a meal, went to a gay pub and nattered constantly about everything - coming out, sex, tantra, union stuff, massage, yoga, work, more sex... I found I could chat to him easily and without inhibition. It was a lovely evening.
Then on Friday my friend Jonathan (one of the most beautiful individuals on the planet) gave me a follow up Reiki session to the one he had given just before Christmas. He noted how different I was from the initial session - happier, calmer, the energies flowing more freely round my body. And to be honest I felt much better too. It may have been the Reiki or just spending time in Jonathan's company that left me on a high that continued into the next day. Here is a shameless plug for his website - Greenfield Therapy.
Since then I feel I have a much more positive outlook (oh and the tap dance DEFINITELY helps!!) and I guess it was working through the bereavement of both my parents that has instilled that in me. There's a long way to go and I will admit I'm not the quickest on the uptake. But with an upbeat frame of mind - and knowing some wonderful individuals - I feel quietly optimistic that this year will be quite good. Well, when you're on the bottom you've got no option but to look up.
Anyway, enough of that. Stu and I are off to see Spielberg's 'War Horse' in Newport tonight; it's highly likely that it will be overly sentimental and a tad slushy and I'll cry like a baby, but who cares. I'm quite partial to that right now.
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