Reflections On Christmas, New Year, Childhood,Teens.

Christmas

Christmas is about re-affirming family ties and stoking up the imagination of childhood zeal, the rest is nonsense. I was lucky as a child as I lived in a large house big enough to accommodate a 'ginormous' Christmas tree, and a large holly bush (tree) in the back garden which I used to love climbing up inside; wedged between its small branches I felt hidden and protected from the whole world by its prickly exterior; it was one of my favourite childhood hiding places only accessible by lying almost flat on the ground and crawling beneath the lowest holly spikes, but once inside no-one could see you as the holly and red berries were so dense it was impossible for adult eyes to penetrate. I sat there often listening to random adults in the garden who no doubt believed I had scampered off upstairs to bed and was either asleep, or hiding in a cupboard!

All I can say now as an adult (sort of) is thank goodness that Christmas/New Year is over. The highlight of my Christmas and New Year was sharing a bottle of Moet & Chandon Champagne with friends. It has a delightful taste that I found quite surprising. I don't normally take much interest in the subtleties of alcoholic beverages, but I am now considering using this Champagne at opening of some future art event I have yet to construct. Call me pretentious and elite if you wish but I always prefer private views when they really make an effort on the social-entertaining side, because let's be honest, most of the time the so-called art is vacant of any real meaning.

New Year

I stopped making New Year Resolutions when I was about twelve and Susan Cureton the girl I was in love went out with my best friend Andrew Lawrence. That was the most emotionally painful thing that ever happened to me as a teenager, more so being beat up skinheads for being "too cool", and more painful than flying off my skateboard down a steep hill, doing a complete reverse somersault and landing on my head and right elbow. Boys always find such events hilariously funny, so my friends wereall doubled-up screaming with laughter, especially Andrew who had tears coming down his face and was laughing so much he could hardly breathe; the girls on the other hand were very impressed that I didn't make much fuss about it apart from a few teenage groans and an intake of a few sharp breaths while the agony slowly declined into a stinging burn-like warmth. I felt more embarrassment than any other other emotion, as I was the only person not to make it down the hill in one piece.

The person who showed the most concern was Julie Walsh, another girl I fell in love with during those hormonal teen years, who at some point I would go out with and share my very first "grown-up kiss" under a tree. (I shall undoubtedly come back to this first real kiss when I write my book.) It was her idea as everyone (mainly the boys of course) was trying to watch us. Now she was cool, a beautiful tomboy who did most things better than us boys including skatebooarding and riding BMX; she made it down the hill with ease! After my skateboarding catastrophe we all walked home staring with fascination at the inner workings of my elbow joint which could be seen moving beneath my skin which was no longer there; no doubt if police forensics had been on the scene they could had easily located the remnants of my elbow skin lying smeared in on the tarmac behind us. What surprised me most of all was that although there was a hole the size of a fifty pence piece in my elbow there was hardly any blood, just a few tiny red dots peeking out through the white flesh, tendons, and bone gristle. It is amazing how the mind works in the strangest of circumstances, why did I notice this? I knew it was my immune system reacting to the shock and restricting the flow of blood to the trauma area,how did I know this, and is this even true?. The pain was still an intense stinging sensation and I was quite worried about the hole in my elbow. Luckily my skull had dealt with the impact admirably, such a design is the skull, and apart from a hugh cone-like cartoon bump and a slight ringing in my ears I was fine. This recollection brings to mind the time I was hit was a car when I was in my late teens which was another strange body experience I shall no doubt write about in the future.

Creative Note:

Mention the school playground incident when you were bumped on the head and actually saw "stars". I think that is interesting.

I always stray from the point where I began when I start writing about things...Sorry........HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Footnote:

I really think I may be ready soon to attempt a book of sorts, I can feel this creative urge to do so becoming stronger.....I hope I'm right because thier is a lot I would like to write about but I have never found, or felt, the right desire to do as my creativity for the past tens years has been focused more on the practice of art and other expressive outlets.