Work.
Morning, how are you?
Not too bad thanks, how's yourself?
Oh, you know, hanging on in there...
...and so on and so forth, ad nauseum, ad infinitum, and other such latin phrases. Or, as well we know, how to commit to expressing absolutely nothing - at least in a verbal sense - about how one is actually feeling.
Sometimes of course, it's a case of time and place: it would be awkward or inconvenient all round, in certain situations, to express anything more meaningful, honest or open than the above, ultimately coded language.
Other times, it's more a case of habit, politeness, unwillingness, whatever.
Well, I grew bored with that.
Morning trousers, how are you?
Brutalized. How's yourself?
Fine, thanks...what? Brutalized?
- after which there may be a frown, a pause, a laugh, or all three. Or all four if you can't count. There may also be further questions: brutalized? Really?
It just happens to be one of my favourite words, and I decided I would rather use it than come out with something which says absolutely nothing, at least nothing in a direct sense. It does seem to throw people off guard a little, not that my intention is to make anyone feel awkward - but one would hardly expect such an answer to an everyday question: said casually, according to the context of the conversation, it does admittedly tend to jar a little.
It just seems a little more honest sometimes, to say something so obviously, preposterously over the top, in such a context - it does at least have the potential to invite further discussion. In the end it can also serve to put people at ease, when the result is that it's clear that we've opened up a space in which we don't have to follow the usual codes. Namely those codes which allow us to make a habit of ultimately saying nothing with any real meaning.
Of course, I don't really mean that I'm brutalized: the prospect that I might throw such a word into the first conversational greeting of the morning as though I've got the thousand-yard stare thanks to all those inhuman scenes of suffering, mayhem and brutality that I've seen first-hand in some zone of combat, is ever-so-slightly far-fetched. It's not hard though to go from such silly extremes, to somewhere much more reasonable on that particular spectrum, namely what genuine stresses, annoyances or worries may be on one's mind (if indeed such is the case).
It also served as its own form of coded language when things were at their most Kafkaesque, masking certain realities with a veil of humour.
Certain individuals now respond to me in kind, which I think is brilliant - there's an understanding there - but I wonder if it's already reaching the point of having come full circle: brutalized being a convenient shorthand for avoiding any commitment towards expressing anything in particular.
Showing posts with label me me me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label me me me. Show all posts
Thursday, 11 December 2008
Thursday, 13 November 2008
A number of unrelated matters
...well, three unrelated matters anyway. But then, three is a number after all.
*Regular reader(s) might know I've not exactly been unwell of late, but not exactly 100% either: tiredness, lethargy, cold symptoms (including binge-sneezing) amongst other things, compounded a few days ago by sleeplessness and also a cricked neck. Most of the symptoms haven't been so bad in themselves, the problem has been that they've been lingering for 2 or 3 months now, and it's not really much fun.
So I went to the doctors, and it appears that I may have an allergy. I'll be having some blood tests soon, in the meantime I'm taking some anti-allergens: they've stopped the binge-sneezing at the very least and I'm hopeful that some of the other symptoms will be relieved too.
Also my sleeping patterns appear to be settling down (thank goodness - I'm utterly rubbish if I miss out on sleep), though this is a seperate thing from any possible allergies, and more the aftermath of hectic and intense times at work, what with the audit amongst other things. It has at times been difficult to switch off from a constant flow of thoughts and of information.
*This coming weekend I'll be in Paris.
*RIP Mitch Mitchell
*Regular reader(s) might know I've not exactly been unwell of late, but not exactly 100% either: tiredness, lethargy, cold symptoms (including binge-sneezing) amongst other things, compounded a few days ago by sleeplessness and also a cricked neck. Most of the symptoms haven't been so bad in themselves, the problem has been that they've been lingering for 2 or 3 months now, and it's not really much fun.
So I went to the doctors, and it appears that I may have an allergy. I'll be having some blood tests soon, in the meantime I'm taking some anti-allergens: they've stopped the binge-sneezing at the very least and I'm hopeful that some of the other symptoms will be relieved too.
Also my sleeping patterns appear to be settling down (thank goodness - I'm utterly rubbish if I miss out on sleep), though this is a seperate thing from any possible allergies, and more the aftermath of hectic and intense times at work, what with the audit amongst other things. It has at times been difficult to switch off from a constant flow of thoughts and of information.
*This coming weekend I'll be in Paris.
*RIP Mitch Mitchell
Monday, 12 November 2007
Tags (4)
Now as I may have previously mentioned I'm rather ambivalent as regards being tagged, though I've been known to indulge from time to time. It would be hard to refuse this one though, since it constitutes a twin assault from djkirkby and pixie (though presumably not acting in concert...that would be a bit weird). So I shall do it and make the most of rambling on about myself: let none of my ambivalence appear disrespectful to my two taggers, since it's flattering really.
So thank you to the aforementioned, though I shan't tag anyone else: anyone who wishes to do this one though, feel free to.
8 passions in my life
Art. Both the viewing/experiencing of, and also the making of. Finally, in contrast to when I spoke about this a few months ago, I'm starting to breathe a bit of life (only a bit, at the moment) into the seemingly long-since dormant corpse that is (or was) my own artwork.
Music: similar to above, this relates to the listening thereof (?), seeing in live performance, and also producing my own. Sporadically so at the moment, but unlike drawing and painting, I've never allowed this to stagnate for long periods of time.
Reading: no, not the place. Reading books. It's been less fiction and more history over the last 12 months since I first went to Berlin (yes the place), I feel the need to know about these things. Which serves as an explanation for my book list below, which looks a bit obsessive to say the least.
Languages: especially European ones. My love of the sounds and words spoken in other languages is in inverse proportion to my ability to speak them. I'm fascinated by the relationships between words in different languages. I'm a sucker for hearing foreign accents as well.
Cycling: I'm sure I've gone on about this often enough as it is.
Good whisky: single malt, especially Laphroiag. As a real connoisseur might say, "it's the shit."
Decent beer: similar to above (though not the same, obviously, or my liver would have packed in years ago).
An unrequieted one: I'm not saying any more, but see the point about languages.
8 things to do before I die
A total copout answer here, but more of the above. I was tempted to put "breathe in and out four times each" but that's even more of a copout. I'm stonewalling: for some reason this one doesn't present anything satisfactory. The other thing is, what if I don't do them before I die? That will mean I've lied or I've failed, even if I've had a damn good time trying. Yes, I know the whole point is probably to have a damn good time trying, but still I can't think of 8 things to put here that properly answer this question.
8 things I often say
Definitely
You fucking tosser (usually under my breath since I want to stay alive for now)
Er...
I don't know/ I'm not sure
What/pardon/sorry? (see earlier posts about tinnitus)
That'll be them now (whenever the phone rings)
Bollocks
Shitting Crikey
8 Books I read recently
The Great War For Civilisation by Robert Fisk
Ulli Haarburst's Novel of Roy Orbison in Clingfilm
My Summer of Love by Helen Cross
In Search of Adam by Caroline Smailes
Stasiland by Anna Funder
Rising '44 by Norman Davies
The Berlin Wall by Frederick Taylor
The Fall of Berlin by Anthony Read and David Fisher
8 songs that mean something to me
Oh bloody hell, where do I start with this? Another one which is difficult to answer but for a very different reason, i.e. there are way too many. I'll choose eight which aren't necessarily the most meaningful, or even the most meaningful right now, but still they answer the question.
Motherfucker=Redeemer by Godspeed You Black Emperor. An incredible, epic instrumental piece from an incredible, instrumental album by an incredible, instrumental band. I haven't listened to the album that this is from for a couple of years at least, it may well be time to rectify that. Intense and very moving stuff.
Take Me To The Other Side by Spacemen 3. First time I heard this was when I saw them in concert, and I was knocked for six: nearly twenty years later I've still not been to a better gig, and the song in question was an astonishing highlight. Relentless, druggy power-chords and drones: it really had a huge impact on me, and I was stone-cold sober when I saw them.
Jesus by The Velvet Underground. I could choose any of the songs on the first side of their third album. This is beautiful, quiet and has a heartbreakingly simple melody and lyric which gets me every time.
Genetic Transmission by SPK. Because like the album it's from (Leichenschrei), it used to scare the shit out of me and was unlike anything I'd previously heard at that point (early-mid eighties).
Come On In My Kitchen by Robert Johnson. Not sure how I could do this, or its effect on me, any justice.
Yoo Doo Right by Can. Not the first track I heard by them, but the one which instantly drew me in and the one I always come back to, for all sorts of reasons both musically and personally.
Fernando by Abba. Yes it does mean something to me, because as I've written previously, this was the first piece of music I heard, aged about three, in which I felt compelled to ask what the difference between the song and the band was: something which had never previously occurred to me. If we were to talk about an ABBA song that I really like though, that would have to be S.O.S.
Host Of Seraphim by Dead Can Dance. More breathtakingly beautiful stuff (and other such hyperbole). I was reminded of this earlier today: a friend of mine once came round, she was going through a difficult time and we were sat talking. I put this album on and she immediately burst into tears because she knew it and associated it with an even more difficult time. Oops.
Eight Qualities I Look For In A Friend
This might sound disingenuous but it feels quite cynical to list something along these lines. Yes there are obvious ones like sense of humour and so on but if I have to write a list then it feels like it's missing the point really. Sorry!
So thank you to the aforementioned, though I shan't tag anyone else: anyone who wishes to do this one though, feel free to.
8 passions in my life
Art. Both the viewing/experiencing of, and also the making of. Finally, in contrast to when I spoke about this a few months ago, I'm starting to breathe a bit of life (only a bit, at the moment) into the seemingly long-since dormant corpse that is (or was) my own artwork.
Music: similar to above, this relates to the listening thereof (?), seeing in live performance, and also producing my own. Sporadically so at the moment, but unlike drawing and painting, I've never allowed this to stagnate for long periods of time.
Reading: no, not the place. Reading books. It's been less fiction and more history over the last 12 months since I first went to Berlin (yes the place), I feel the need to know about these things. Which serves as an explanation for my book list below, which looks a bit obsessive to say the least.
Languages: especially European ones. My love of the sounds and words spoken in other languages is in inverse proportion to my ability to speak them. I'm fascinated by the relationships between words in different languages. I'm a sucker for hearing foreign accents as well.
Cycling: I'm sure I've gone on about this often enough as it is.
Good whisky: single malt, especially Laphroiag. As a real connoisseur might say, "it's the shit."
Decent beer: similar to above (though not the same, obviously, or my liver would have packed in years ago).
An unrequieted one: I'm not saying any more, but see the point about languages.
8 things to do before I die
A total copout answer here, but more of the above. I was tempted to put "breathe in and out four times each" but that's even more of a copout. I'm stonewalling: for some reason this one doesn't present anything satisfactory. The other thing is, what if I don't do them before I die? That will mean I've lied or I've failed, even if I've had a damn good time trying. Yes, I know the whole point is probably to have a damn good time trying, but still I can't think of 8 things to put here that properly answer this question.
8 things I often say
Definitely
You fucking tosser (usually under my breath since I want to stay alive for now)
Er...
I don't know/ I'm not sure
What/pardon/sorry? (see earlier posts about tinnitus)
That'll be them now (whenever the phone rings)
Bollocks
Shitting Crikey
8 Books I read recently
The Great War For Civilisation by Robert Fisk
Ulli Haarburst's Novel of Roy Orbison in Clingfilm
My Summer of Love by Helen Cross
In Search of Adam by Caroline Smailes
Stasiland by Anna Funder
Rising '44 by Norman Davies
The Berlin Wall by Frederick Taylor
The Fall of Berlin by Anthony Read and David Fisher
8 songs that mean something to me
Oh bloody hell, where do I start with this? Another one which is difficult to answer but for a very different reason, i.e. there are way too many. I'll choose eight which aren't necessarily the most meaningful, or even the most meaningful right now, but still they answer the question.
Motherfucker=Redeemer by Godspeed You Black Emperor. An incredible, epic instrumental piece from an incredible, instrumental album by an incredible, instrumental band. I haven't listened to the album that this is from for a couple of years at least, it may well be time to rectify that. Intense and very moving stuff.
Take Me To The Other Side by Spacemen 3. First time I heard this was when I saw them in concert, and I was knocked for six: nearly twenty years later I've still not been to a better gig, and the song in question was an astonishing highlight. Relentless, druggy power-chords and drones: it really had a huge impact on me, and I was stone-cold sober when I saw them.
Jesus by The Velvet Underground. I could choose any of the songs on the first side of their third album. This is beautiful, quiet and has a heartbreakingly simple melody and lyric which gets me every time.
Genetic Transmission by SPK. Because like the album it's from (Leichenschrei), it used to scare the shit out of me and was unlike anything I'd previously heard at that point (early-mid eighties).
Come On In My Kitchen by Robert Johnson. Not sure how I could do this, or its effect on me, any justice.
Yoo Doo Right by Can. Not the first track I heard by them, but the one which instantly drew me in and the one I always come back to, for all sorts of reasons both musically and personally.
Fernando by Abba. Yes it does mean something to me, because as I've written previously, this was the first piece of music I heard, aged about three, in which I felt compelled to ask what the difference between the song and the band was: something which had never previously occurred to me. If we were to talk about an ABBA song that I really like though, that would have to be S.O.S.
Host Of Seraphim by Dead Can Dance. More breathtakingly beautiful stuff (and other such hyperbole). I was reminded of this earlier today: a friend of mine once came round, she was going through a difficult time and we were sat talking. I put this album on and she immediately burst into tears because she knew it and associated it with an even more difficult time. Oops.
Eight Qualities I Look For In A Friend
This might sound disingenuous but it feels quite cynical to list something along these lines. Yes there are obvious ones like sense of humour and so on but if I have to write a list then it feels like it's missing the point really. Sorry!
Sunday, 1 July 2007
Tags
I've been tagged by prada pixie, which basically means I'm faced with the Herculean task of finding seven fascinating things about myself to post up here. I'm not sure what I think of tags, but I'll see how it goes. Trouble is, I've already written about one fascinating fact, ie my namesake. Never mind, I'll have to scrape around for more. For some reason I don't feel comfortable with tagging other people though - feel free to call me a spoilsport.
Here goes then:
1: I once had a competition with a friend to see who could last longest without washing their hair. My friend lasted a month. I managed 15 years. Should I be telling you this?
2: A few years ago I woke at 4 in the morning to find myself cycling round the small French village of Vias Plage. Well I was on holiday there, but was rather surprised to wake up at the wheel, as it were. I was also looking for some Belgians to check everything was ok with them. I found them, everything was indeed ok, though I wasn't even sure what language we were speaking. Nor, for that matter, was I sure why anything wouldn't be ok. As you might have surmised, I'd had a couple of drinks.
3. I'm a multi-instrumentalist and play sort of experimental-ish music in a band comprised of me and my best friend. Technically we have a recording contract with some bigwig in London but he vanished. Incidentally my drumming is incredible - by which I don't mean that its any good, if you see what I mean.
4. I've got a Master's Degree in Fine Art. Sadly its going to waste at the present time, something which I hope to change.
5. I've a tattoo of the logo of one of my favourite bands, Einstuerzende Neubauten, on my upper arm.
Update: a quick roll up of the sleeves and...here it is, by popular (ie more than one) request!
6. I'm left handed, was born in April and have a predisposition towards counting things. I was informed, reliably or otherwise, that these are common traits of people considered to be geniuses. Even if that were true (which I doubt, and am dubious about the whole concept of genius in the first place), there's always room for exceptions.
7. I have tinnitus, something which has affected me for nearly 15 years. When I was first diagnosed, I was terrified that within the space of several years it would be difficult to hear what people around me are saying, for example, on a night out . Well I've got to that stage and I have to admit, I'm quite happy about it.
Here goes then:
1: I once had a competition with a friend to see who could last longest without washing their hair. My friend lasted a month. I managed 15 years. Should I be telling you this?
2: A few years ago I woke at 4 in the morning to find myself cycling round the small French village of Vias Plage. Well I was on holiday there, but was rather surprised to wake up at the wheel, as it were. I was also looking for some Belgians to check everything was ok with them. I found them, everything was indeed ok, though I wasn't even sure what language we were speaking. Nor, for that matter, was I sure why anything wouldn't be ok. As you might have surmised, I'd had a couple of drinks.
3. I'm a multi-instrumentalist and play sort of experimental-ish music in a band comprised of me and my best friend. Technically we have a recording contract with some bigwig in London but he vanished. Incidentally my drumming is incredible - by which I don't mean that its any good, if you see what I mean.
4. I've got a Master's Degree in Fine Art. Sadly its going to waste at the present time, something which I hope to change.
5. I've a tattoo of the logo of one of my favourite bands, Einstuerzende Neubauten, on my upper arm.
Update: a quick roll up of the sleeves and...here it is, by popular (ie more than one) request!
6. I'm left handed, was born in April and have a predisposition towards counting things. I was informed, reliably or otherwise, that these are common traits of people considered to be geniuses. Even if that were true (which I doubt, and am dubious about the whole concept of genius in the first place), there's always room for exceptions.
7. I have tinnitus, something which has affected me for nearly 15 years. When I was first diagnosed, I was terrified that within the space of several years it would be difficult to hear what people around me are saying, for example, on a night out . Well I've got to that stage and I have to admit, I'm quite happy about it.
Tuesday, 19 June 2007
Hello me
Yep, that's the other reason I keep banging on about going away - I'll get some of ME back (cos this is all about me, obviously...). A change from the everyday, externally imposed routine and restrictions should give me enough space for my own normality to return, even just for a short while.
See if you can spot me strolling/staggering down Unter den Linden on here sometime between Thursday and Tuesday. For those of you who don't know what I look like, I'll be wearing a black T shirt, probably.
Be good, in the meantime.
See if you can spot me strolling/staggering down Unter den Linden on here sometime between Thursday and Tuesday. For those of you who don't know what I look like, I'll be wearing a black T shirt, probably.
Be good, in the meantime.
Wednesday, 23 May 2007
Signposting
Having closely viewed some thought-provoking posts by both Ms Melancholy and Stray, I got to thinking about my own experience as a Mental Health Worker in various roles and settings, stretching back almost a decade and a half. Its not beyond the realms of possibility that I may publish some posts in the near future about this. As yet, I'm not sure precisely what form this/these might take.
Whatever I might come up with, here's what I'm posting as a starting point: I don't want to do it anymore. The job, that is.
Working in this area can be very challenging and stressful - though not for the reasons people tend to think. I think I've grown and learned something from the most difficult and challenging situations and interactions with people. I'm sure I've discovered plenty about myself as well. Then there's the wealth of times when things go well, are positive, when people move forwards in all sorts of ways (or even just stop moving backwards quite so quickly). Its not the clients (or whatever term you wish to use) that are making me want to leave, far from it.
The structure of service provision - and, crucially, funding - has changed in recent years. It has led to the provision of an increasingly target-based, outcome-led service which to my mind treats people more as statistics than individuals. I've no problem with accountability and so forth, but I think the balance has tipped too far. What targets can you set for the days when taking the time to listen or just being there for someone may be what they need at that particular moment in time? No boxes get ticked for these moments, no clear progress can necessarily be measured: no markers for what can be a valuable experience upon which rapport (and other benefits) may be built. Until very recently however, these changes haven't had such an impact on my work, and again don't constitute the reason that I want to get out.
The amount of paperwork we now have to complete is astonishing. Everything has to be signed for and agreed, and the time taken to carry this out ("did you just breathe out then? You need to sign this box here...and here if you breathe in again") regularly gets in the way of the work that we're supposed to be doing. It also reflects on the changes mentioned above: it seems less important to be supporting individuals, than to be seen to be supporting individuals, and having their signature to prove it. Its a pain, and its tedious. Even so, its do-able - just . As above though, this on its own or in combination with any of my other moans, is not reason enough for my wishing to bid it all farewell.
The wages? Don't even go there.
I could go on, but it would be sidestepping. The thing is, there's just something besides all this which, if I ignore it, will be to my peril.
Its me. There's not enough of me in this job, not anymore. I'm not fulfilled, my heart is no longer in it. There are other things I need to do, and I need to find out how. I need to get back to being seriously creative. I need a real change. Apart from applying for other jobs, I'm puzzling at the moment as to precisely how to go about it. I'm not even asking for answers or suggestions from anyone who might read this: I'm just posting on where I'm at right now. Perhaps this will serve as my own marker from which I can start moving forwards (or even sideways). I hope so.
Whatever I might come up with, here's what I'm posting as a starting point: I don't want to do it anymore. The job, that is.
Working in this area can be very challenging and stressful - though not for the reasons people tend to think. I think I've grown and learned something from the most difficult and challenging situations and interactions with people. I'm sure I've discovered plenty about myself as well. Then there's the wealth of times when things go well, are positive, when people move forwards in all sorts of ways (or even just stop moving backwards quite so quickly). Its not the clients (or whatever term you wish to use) that are making me want to leave, far from it.
The structure of service provision - and, crucially, funding - has changed in recent years. It has led to the provision of an increasingly target-based, outcome-led service which to my mind treats people more as statistics than individuals. I've no problem with accountability and so forth, but I think the balance has tipped too far. What targets can you set for the days when taking the time to listen or just being there for someone may be what they need at that particular moment in time? No boxes get ticked for these moments, no clear progress can necessarily be measured: no markers for what can be a valuable experience upon which rapport (and other benefits) may be built. Until very recently however, these changes haven't had such an impact on my work, and again don't constitute the reason that I want to get out.
The amount of paperwork we now have to complete is astonishing. Everything has to be signed for and agreed, and the time taken to carry this out ("did you just breathe out then? You need to sign this box here...and here if you breathe in again") regularly gets in the way of the work that we're supposed to be doing. It also reflects on the changes mentioned above: it seems less important to be supporting individuals, than to be seen to be supporting individuals, and having their signature to prove it. Its a pain, and its tedious. Even so, its do-able - just . As above though, this on its own or in combination with any of my other moans, is not reason enough for my wishing to bid it all farewell.
The wages? Don't even go there.
I could go on, but it would be sidestepping. The thing is, there's just something besides all this which, if I ignore it, will be to my peril.
Its me. There's not enough of me in this job, not anymore. I'm not fulfilled, my heart is no longer in it. There are other things I need to do, and I need to find out how. I need to get back to being seriously creative. I need a real change. Apart from applying for other jobs, I'm puzzling at the moment as to precisely how to go about it. I'm not even asking for answers or suggestions from anyone who might read this: I'm just posting on where I'm at right now. Perhaps this will serve as my own marker from which I can start moving forwards (or even sideways). I hope so.
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