all quiet on the literary front

Not much writing going on, for various reasons (excuses?). I’m still adapting to (resisting) the full time work routine. And then, last week, there was my significant other’s significant birthday to celebrate. Cue: midweek break to Margate for bracing walks, sea air, magnificent skies and a visit to the new Turner Contemporary gallery – unprepossessing on the outside, but impressive inside. The current exhibition, Nothing in the World But Youth, is an eclectic survey of artists’ exploration of adolescence over the last century and a bit. Posters of gigs and rallies from the late 70s and early 80s; a montage of found footage from early rave clubs; The Smiths Meat is Murder album recreated from karaoke recordings of young fans from South East Asia; Glenn Brown‘s sculpted desk, Teen Age Riot, camouflaged in thickest cakings of oil paint (love that smell!); a strangely beautiful (beautifully strange?) short film, Lasso, by Salla Tykkä, with a knowingly manipulative soundtrack, which somehow captures, entirely without words, adolescent longing in all its absurdity and poignancy. Overall, a thought-provoking and moving exhibition. And not at all inappropriate for those of us who survived this turbulent phase of life a not insignificant number of years ago!
Now, here comes the winter solstice, some pagan festivities, and a few very welcome ‘grace days’ away from work. Time (I hope) to declutter the mind and put pen to paper. No pressure. No resolutions. Or so I wish…

from the steps of the Turner Contemporary, 14th December 2011

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