Showing posts with label decide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label decide. Show all posts

Monday, November 11

Monday

So, Monday!

It's currently nearly 3am.

Tomorrow I want to.
Call the music school.
Call the pianist about listening to a lesson.
Call the singing teacher.
Message about theatre.
Go see National Theatre 50 at the cinema.
Make a now-till-end-of-year plan.
Write up some programme stuff, for 30.11 aaand January.

That's that.
OH and I also want a nice breakfast.
So.
For me to get this, I must get sleepy.

Love and light.
Yours truly.
M.






Saturday, November 9

ce soir

Tonight literally just hammered, and I mean, HAMMERED-hammered-hammered in, the message from last night.
Like, violently, hammered, screwed it in, nuts and bolts and all the hardware.

The Doing.

It's getting to a point where this is making me so frustrated.
This idea, this idea of not doing.

Apparently I've got pretty eyes.
That was really nice.


Theatre.
And life, and art.
And thoughts.

And competing.
And understanding.
And accepting.
And all the things.
All of them.

I just want to be what I see and know I can be.
Because of the deafening mundane-ness.

My problem has been - solo in the sandbox.
Well then f*ck me - don't be?!

Don't waste the partners.
Seriously.
Seriously.
Seriously.

Learn, and evolve.
And make smart analytical decisions, please.
Reason, and discover.


Empty sandbox or fascinating sandbox?
Surely this is what moves me, improves me, challenges me.
Tantalises, tickles and teases.
Seriously.
Surely?

What do I choose?

One frustrated cat.


In other news, tonight was so awesome.
Here's a photo from the set.
Super.
The future is now.


And I'm not going to wish love and light.
I'm going to wish, the productivity to make yourself shine.
Shine, shine, shine.

Yours truly.
M.

Monday, May 13

5 days

5 days non-blog.
5 days of some rehearsals, a lot of time in a library trying to find some music, which I found.
5 days of stressing about two gigs, and doing the two gigs, and them going well.

So in short all is well.
In some more detail, however, stuff's weird.
I still don't get where this weirdness is coming from.
It's boring to experience so I don't even know how boring it must be to read about it.
But as ever, everything is a work in progress, so I'm not despairing too much.

There's some things I need to do, and get done.
So I'll do that soon.

For now, I'm eating some cantarell mushroom pasta in Vapiano.
Seeing dad and the spanish one later.
Things need to be decided and I don't like deciding.
Note to self: make friends with decision-making.

I'll do my very very best not to disappear.

Peace out, lovely-ones.
M.




Tuesday, February 19

choose

I think we have a choice.
Or at least I have decided I want to have a choice.

Either to live my life according to the ingrained calling of the Nordic logic, of pre-plan everything or imminent death and starvation through lack of crops and cold will arrive.
Or the way of the warmer, damper parts. You can plan, but you can also wait. Because there's fruit and there's heat. So you won't die.

"Life is a privilege, not a right."
(The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.)

And we are in charge of shaping how we see this privilege, how we shift and form it. Whether we have time or not, to stop and maybe look, and enjoy, and be.
Because if the only thing you're concerned with is the next step and the step after that and the one after that, you'll end up missing the entire journey.

And where is the sense in that.

I choose south.
Take time, my darlings. Because that tricky f*cker can sometimes steal away, and really quietly.

Infinite possibilities. 
M. 






Sunday, February 3

time


I have time.
Okay, yes, it's constantly reducing, but still, I have time.

I have time.
To live a life that I've chosen for myself.
To do the things I want to do.
To decide
To change
To learn
To grow
To laugh
And dance
And travel
And adventure
To see
To hear
To taste
To touch

And I can only do this for myself.
I cannot convince anyone else of anything, unless they want to do it or want to be convinced.
February is for making sure I do the best I can with me, and leave others to do their own growing, and whatever.
And there's plenty I want to do with me. Things to decide and find out and explore and, just so much.

I have time.
Use it well.

Here's to time.
M.

(I think I dreamt something weird.)



Thursday, January 17

stories


Telling stories.

It's so important.
There's something so simple and so powerful at the same time about telling stories.
About deciding to share that little part of you or share that little bit of imagination, or fact, or whatever with someone else.
Deciding they are worth your special story, or deciding you like them enough to really tell them a story.
Or finding someone who respects you enough to really listen to your story.
So simple it's just crazy, so basic.
But in this basic-ness there's just something absolutely magical.
I don't trust people who underestimate telling stories, or listening to stories.
And I don't only mean fairytales. I mean, what happened to you yesterday, or something your little brother once did, or something your grandfather told you, or something you read, or some lyrics to your favourite song.
This sort of sharing, all of this, is storytelling.

And it is important.
I think that's why I like blogging. It doesn't have a word-limit, and I can just tell my stories.
And sometimes the stories are so good I have to re-tell them to my friends in person, message them, or anything. It's the easiest way of sharing and the easiest way to really get under someone's skin. Sharing your stories.
Your adventures
Your likes, and dislikes
Your favourite animals and colours
Your patterns and structures
Your dreams and schemes

Share.
It is scary but it makes life so much more fun. So much more excitement to find someone who is into the exact same dried autumnal leaf shape. Or like, someone who pairs their socks the same way. Or changes octaves when singing along to a song exactly when you do. Or someone who has the same favourite Monet. Or someone who folds their linen the same. Or someone who holds their fork the same way. Or someone who has the same dreams. Or laughs the same way.

Tell stories, because we base ourselves in this context. The giving storytellers give a little bit of themselves to each story and really root and ground themselves. It's nice to belong to stories because they can't shift and change. If you tell them, they are the way they are. The next one will be different.

So therefore.
Tell

dem
stories

M.









Sunday, November 11

it's beautiful outside

decisions
decisions
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decisions.
M.