Saturday, 25 June 2005
Sacré-Coeur - Paris
It’s been a long and tiring day.
The heat is baking and we are at the top on the steps leading up to the Sacré-Coeur.
I would like to blame the tiredness on walking up all those hundreds of steps. But we cheated and took the lift.
Three of us are sitting on the steps outside the Sacré-Coeur. Waiting for the others to come out of the church. We have managed to find a spot that isn’t too hot and that is in the shade.
There is a beautiful view from here.
Being so high up,
Over looking Paris.
I look down at the steps, and remember that part of Amelie is filmed here. The part where she leaves a note for the guy whose book she has.
I love that film.
The little things she does,
The little nice things.
I open my bag and take out a card.
I feel slightly nervous as there are so many people around.
But I look around and see that everyone seems so busy, no one is paying any attention to me. I shouldn’t worry so much.
I slip it into a little gap between the metals on the handrail, just before the entrance to the church.
It’s been a long and tiring day.
The heat is baking and we are at the top on the steps leading up to the Sacré-Coeur.
I would like to blame the tiredness on walking up all those hundreds of steps. But we cheated and took the lift.
Three of us are sitting on the steps outside the Sacré-Coeur. Waiting for the others to come out of the church. We have managed to find a spot that isn’t too hot and that is in the shade.
There is a beautiful view from here.
Being so high up,
Over looking Paris.
I look down at the steps, and remember that part of Amelie is filmed here. The part where she leaves a note for the guy whose book she has.
I love that film.
The little things she does,
The little nice things.
I open my bag and take out a card.
I feel slightly nervous as there are so many people around.
But I look around and see that everyone seems so busy, no one is paying any attention to me. I shouldn’t worry so much.
I slip it into a little gap between the metals on the handrail, just before the entrance to the church.
Friday, 24 June 2005
Flight from Liverpool to Charles De Gaulle
We are sitting on the plane in Liverpool airport. We have been sitting here for an hour and a half and still haven’t taken off. Some problem with the airport in Paris.
I have been reading.
But feel like a break from my book.
I search through my bag for my discman.
As I do, I come across my box of cards.
I take them both out.
My sister is sitting on one side of me, and a French lady on the other side. I had been speaking to her earlier so I don’t feel too self-conscious about it. She isn’t looking anyway. Her eyes are closed. So it’s ok.
I pick out a card and place it in the pocket in front of my seat. It falls straight out through the gaps. I am glad the French woman’s eyes are closed. This would have just drawn more attention to myself and I would have started to get nervous about it.
I pick the card up and this time place it inside the safety booklet that is in the pocket.
I take out another card.
Slightly open my seat table.
Slide the card in.
And close it again.
I look over at the French lady. Her eyes are now open, but she is looking out of the window. I don’t think she saw me.
Though it shouldn’t matter if she did.
I don’t know why but it seems to make me nervous if strangers see what I am up to.
I know it shouldn’t.
We are sitting on the plane in Liverpool airport. We have been sitting here for an hour and a half and still haven’t taken off. Some problem with the airport in Paris.
I have been reading.
But feel like a break from my book.
I search through my bag for my discman.
As I do, I come across my box of cards.
I take them both out.
My sister is sitting on one side of me, and a French lady on the other side. I had been speaking to her earlier so I don’t feel too self-conscious about it. She isn’t looking anyway. Her eyes are closed. So it’s ok.
I pick out a card and place it in the pocket in front of my seat. It falls straight out through the gaps. I am glad the French woman’s eyes are closed. This would have just drawn more attention to myself and I would have started to get nervous about it.
I pick the card up and this time place it inside the safety booklet that is in the pocket.
I take out another card.
Slightly open my seat table.
Slide the card in.
And close it again.
I look over at the French lady. Her eyes are now open, but she is looking out of the window. I don’t think she saw me.
Though it shouldn’t matter if she did.
I don’t know why but it seems to make me nervous if strangers see what I am up to.
I know it shouldn’t.
Thursday, 23 June 2005
I’ve been naughty again.
I haven’t kept this up like I promised.
It’s because its summer, and I’ve moved back home and have lots of things to do,
No excuse, but now I’ve set up my computer back at home, maybe now I will keep up.
Am off to gay Paris tomorrow for my cousin’s hen night,
So you I won’t be keeping up till I get back…
Will be back on Monday…
Don’t miss me too much
I tried to draw the Eiffel tower….
But I’m rubbish
I couldn’t do it
I haven’t kept this up like I promised.
It’s because its summer, and I’ve moved back home and have lots of things to do,
No excuse, but now I’ve set up my computer back at home, maybe now I will keep up.
Am off to gay Paris tomorrow for my cousin’s hen night,
So you I won’t be keeping up till I get back…
Will be back on Monday…
Don’t miss me too much
I tried to draw the Eiffel tower….
But I’m rubbish
I couldn’t do it
Wednesday, 22 June 2005
Monday, 20 June 2005
Chester Walls
It’s a warm summer evening. I love it when the weather is like this. It doesn’t get dark until late, and when it does, it seems to get dark slowly as the air starts to cool down.
It’s always strange being home from university:
People have moved on,
Our paths have drifted apart,
They barely cross anymore.
It sometimes feels quite lonely.
I feel restless – I want to be outside enjoying the summer evenings.
My brother decides he wants to go free running.
I jump at the chance, to get out of the house, although I know it will mean lots of traipsing around where he wants to go.
Maybe I’ll get some decent photos though.
So I grab my camera and my box of cards off we go.
I go outside and breathe in the fresh air and feel it circulate around my body. Replacing the humid, warm air of a hot, stuffy day.
My brother picks his best spots.
And I stand around while he looks around planning his jumps.
I take one of my stickers out of my box and put it on the lamppost. I don’t often like to leave the stickers, as it’s not the same as finding a card. But I think tonight it will just be the stickers, as I never leave them. They never get chosen, so I feel like I leave them out.
My brother has planned his jump.
He calls me over to watch.
I get my camera, and take a few photographs as he repeats his jumps in different ways.
It’s a warm summer evening. I love it when the weather is like this. It doesn’t get dark until late, and when it does, it seems to get dark slowly as the air starts to cool down.
It’s always strange being home from university:
People have moved on,
Our paths have drifted apart,
They barely cross anymore.
It sometimes feels quite lonely.
I feel restless – I want to be outside enjoying the summer evenings.
My brother decides he wants to go free running.
I jump at the chance, to get out of the house, although I know it will mean lots of traipsing around where he wants to go.
Maybe I’ll get some decent photos though.
So I grab my camera and my box of cards off we go.
I go outside and breathe in the fresh air and feel it circulate around my body. Replacing the humid, warm air of a hot, stuffy day.
My brother picks his best spots.
And I stand around while he looks around planning his jumps.
I take one of my stickers out of my box and put it on the lamppost. I don’t often like to leave the stickers, as it’s not the same as finding a card. But I think tonight it will just be the stickers, as I never leave them. They never get chosen, so I feel like I leave them out.
My brother has planned his jump.
He calls me over to watch.
I get my camera, and take a few photographs as he repeats his jumps in different ways.
_________________________________
Town Centre – Chester
He has exhausted that spot.
He moves on.
Away from the walls.
Down some back streets,
I follow.
We walk past The Gateway where we both used to attend the youth theatre. Just opposite it is the alleyway where the professional free runners jumped when they came to Chester.
Daniel studies the jump. Wishing that he could do it. But he sticks to smaller ones.
Here I leave two stickers:
One I leave on a railing by the entrance to the car park.
Nearby there is some stencil graffiti of a gas mask. I take a photo of it. Daniel notices and tells me it is Adam’s.
The other I put on a lamppost.
I can see the remains of where a previous sticker had been placed.
Now all washed and peeled away,
Only the white mark left.
I place the sticker of the top of this.
_____________________________
Commerce House – Chester
Commerce house – the memories return.
This is where I used to come when I was younger.
Every single weekend and after school when I could.
We would all congregate here.
It had lots of steps and slopes, which the skaters and bladers loved. Perfect for practising new
tricks.
Now they have fenced it all off.
And tried to remove anything that could have been used for tricks.
To keep the youth away I suppose.
It was a disused building then.
I don’t know if it still is,
I put a sticker on the lamppost:
‘Never forget you’re free’
Wednesday, 8 June 2005
Felt bad for not writing,
For ignoring you…
Walking past you quickly and jumping into bed
Pretending I had forgotten about you…
…I’m sorry.
Now it’s room time
I bought a box today,
It’s grey and simple. I love it
For ignoring you…
Walking past you quickly and jumping into bed
Pretending I had forgotten about you…
…I’m sorry.
Now it’s room time
I bought a box today,
It’s grey and simple. I love it
-my box, although this makes it look like a safe. Which it is not! -
I hoped it will solve all my problems (yes all of them…every single one). Though in reality I know it will only solve one…
The mess that is my room –
At least it’s a start
The mess that is my room –
At least it’s a start
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