All was well

The Harry Potter era has ended. Truly ended. All that is and all that has been and will be is over. No more books, or films. It feels weird. Future generations will be told by my generation - the 'Harry Potter' generation - of how great it was. We'll tell them about how we reserved the books months and months in advance, waited eagerly for the post man on release day, or cycled down to the nearest book shop for the moment it opened to get the book we'd all anticipated, theorised and dreamt over. In my life time I doubt that there will be another such phenomenon.

I didn't start reading Harry Potter until quite late in the cycle. The first book was published in 1997, it was when I started school at the age of 4. My primary school was a Church of England school and so banned the books and unlike other schools who read them as class texts we were highly discouraged not to read them at home either. My headteacher was very strong with the point that the books taught nothing my witchcraft and therefore were not suitable for a Christian upbringing. Subsequently she was featured on the BBC news and I am lead to believe that there is a deatheater called 'Rookwood' - apparently not a completely fictitious name. Yet, looking back on these strong opinions, I cannot think that Harry Potter is about witchcraft at all. Instead it is about love, friendship and overpowering evil rather than capturing dark magic and the supernatural.

Despite the banning of books I remember that in year 2 a lot of my friends reading 'The Chamber of Secrets'. Of course many copies got confiscated from my friends, but Harry Potter lived on. I was never a massive reader when I was younger, sure I read some Enid Blyton books, and Jacqueline Wilson books as every other 8 year old girl, but Harry Potter never featured heavily due to the banning in primary school. I'd seen the films, but I was a wimp and found them scary beyond belief. I remember watching the second film and having to sit on my mother's lap because I was so jumpy.

It was when book 4 came out that I really started to show an interest. I read it. I enjoyed it. And so my love began. I started from the beginning and became enthralled in the world that JK Rowling had created. I discussed with my mum what we thought would happen next and how Voldemort would affect the wizarding world this time.

In secondary school I found other people who shared my love for the books and I would go and see the films with them and have massive detailed discussions with them about our theories for the next books. I started to ask for Harry Potter cakes and wands for my birthday and even went to the premier for the Half Blood Prince despite the torrential rain. We made new friends and had an amazing time. I have so many memories of making up songs to do with Harry Potter and having Harry Potter birthday parties, making Weasely jumpers, Luna Lovegood earrings, writing to Warner Brothers to become and extra and surviving a whole spoiler free day of school after Deathly Hallows came out and not having read the ending due to untimely family outings!

The first book was published in 1997 and the last film is out in 2011. The Harry Potter phenomenon has spanned my whole childhood. In some ways it marks the end, in some ways it will never end. It will always be loved and the stories will always be read, but no one aside from a small selection of people born at exactly the right time can say that they have lived with Harry Potter for the whole of their childhoods.

Musicians unite

First of all. I got my IB results. Freaking FORTY-TWO! I'm very very happy though I didn't have much time to dwell over them because this all happened around one hour afterwards:

I go to a music centre on a Saturday morning with loads of my friends and we were invited to go and play with the Royal Engineer's Military band in one of their summer concerts. It was all very exciting. So we got on the coach up to Twickenham to their music school headquarters where they have an outside concert venue. Now for anyone in England, you'll know that last week the weather was a bit temperamental, so we were crossing our fingers for no rain. No rain came, instead gusts of wind were in the air, which makes an outside concert that little bit more exciting. We played first to load applause and then the RE band followed. It was a truly amazing concert complete with fireworks and flags and horn players. Beautiful.

The next day life got even more musical. Every year Kent Music take over Benenden school, which is an independent boarding school in the middle of no where with no signal. It's so much fun! You walk in and you feel inspired to go that extra mile with your playing. In KYWO I'm constantly surrounded by amazing players and we work hard in our sections and as a whole band to create an amazing concert on the final day. This year we had an African theme but then we also branched out to other countries like America and Spain, but which had an overall effect of journeying. Our conductor had composed the finale piece himself, which much to our surprise became everyone's favourite piece and included singing and swaying - which is not as easy as it sounds.

To be with all my music friends again was so lovely and to make more new friends every year is the best. They are all genuinely lovely people who have the same passions as you and won't laugh or judge in anyway (other than being awesome) for listening to classical or instrumental music for fun. I think after our concert I hugged just about everyone, everyone was on such a high from the whole week and the music which was a blast to play.

Life has been so good recently. I'm kind of at a loss to what to do today, though I'm going back to Benenden later today to watch Charlotte's concert. Really, I have exciting stuff to do all summer and I haven't been truly bored once in these epic two months. Life is good. I am happy and I'm sure that the annual Benenden Blues will soon be taken over with more exciting adventures.

The dilemma whilst watching Wimbledon

So Wimbledon is over for another year. It was the first time I felt that I had time to really engage with the championships, which I know sounds weird and you're probably wondering how you can get engaged and attached to sport, especially when you don't play it. But the thing with Wimbledon is that it's not just about the sport and who can win. It's about their journeys and experiences, placing them altogether, adding thousand of spectators each day and seeing what goes on, who comes out on top. This year especially players were under estimated. The favourites to win the women's singles title didn't even get into the quarter-finals. One player, named the best ever tennis player got knocked out in the quater-finals against a 12th seeded player. The final outcome was talked about, but the champion was not predicted by the majority. They're all good. There is no question about that, but I think it's the mentality of the players that puts them one step above the rest. Having no doubt in your mind that you can win against someone else is something that brings determination, agression and strength to the game. You can see that being in control creates winners.

So I'm happy about the result, all bar the 'best player' who went out in the quarter-finals, but whilst watching the matches I don't know who to support. See when you watch tennis, your favourite may be knocked out (as in my case) in the earlier rounds. Who does that leave you with? It's not like a team sport, where you watch only when the team you support is playing, you watch Wimbledon regardless of that. This is my dilemma whilst watching Wimbledon. One of the matches had a British player in it, but he was against my 'second favourite' player. What to do? Stay true to my country, be patriotic, or go with my favourite? I was in constant moral dilemma throughout the match and in the end I took to support the Brit, just because he was loosing. He lost in the end. But this became a thing.

The final. World number 1 against world number 2 - soon to be reversed. My second favourite (who had won Wimbledon before) against someone who I hadn't really thought about (this was his first Wimbledon final). Now simply with these two facts in the brackets, my dilemma began. 'Should I support my favourite? or should I support the other because it is his first time and he has played well this whole time'. Dilemma. I changed my mind throughout the game and in the end I cheered for the one who was losing.

I feel pity and I empathise. My mum, who is Danish, says that this is a typically British thing to do. Though I do have to add I was pleased with the result, even though my 'second favourite' player didn't win. Well deserved Djokovic.

On leaving school

When I finished year 11 I cried. I was coming back to the same school, with largely the same friends, the same teachers, everything the same. I was going to study the subjects I wanted, have my own 6th form block, my own locker and be allowed to carry round my bag for the whole day without leaving it in my locker. It was a sad day, there is no doubt about it.

But two years on I'm in almost the same position again. This time though, I've left forever. Most people I won't ever see again, or talk to. Some I may even forget I ever knew. It's an awful thought, but it's true. Some people just haven't impacted my life in such an immediate way, and they will be the people I will regrettably forget. There's no denying it. It sounds sad, heart breaking. But it's weird, I don't feel that way. I don't feel like a winner getting away from people who I haven't found interesting or inspiring, yet all these people have been a part of my 7 years at school. Yet I don't feel a twinge of guilt or sadness for letting some people go. I didn't cry today on my leaver's day. I didn't hug anyone goodbye. I waved bye to some people and wished them a good holiday and said I'd see them soon. They're the people I probably will see soon. The others just left, passing me like passing businessmen ghosts in London. Part of the crowd.

This time I think I feel ready to go. I've moved on from that part of my life, and to prolong it anymore wouldn't help. It's the end of an era, sure. But it's the start of an even better one. There are so many wonderful people who I love and I will cherish their company in my life forever I hope. I know the people I will talk to again because I want to. I don't want to lose contact and they always have a space in my mind.

I love my friends so much and I really don't want to ever forget them. I'm sure when the real goodbye comes and I won't see them each week I will feel like I've lost half of my livelihood.

What have I been doing?

Well. It's been a while, and though I mostly write these blogs for myself, I do feel that I have let my blogging slip a bit in the past few months. Truth is I've been busy. I don't just mean a little busy. I mean my calendar gives me about 2 free days a week, if that. So right now I'm going to give you a breakdown of my life, things I've been doing and a little about each one. Onwards!

Exams
I had my end of IB, end of school, end of mainstream education, end of an era, potentially the end of everything exams last month. May was hectic and hellish on some accounts. Sometimes I felt less stressed that I had during the 2 years of IB because I had to concentrate on exams only. There was so coursework or homework, only revision. There are 6 days left 'til our results come out, and frankly I don't know where I stand. I came out of each exam thinking that it hadn't gone badly at all, but what does that really mean? Who knows. Time will tell.

Post exam week
So right after my final German exam I was ready to welcome summer in with wide arms and lots of muscles for a pre-summer-holiday-shop. It was good, I bought some clothes and a bikini and had a nice time. Of course exams and school were still with me and I thought I had to speed shop because I had to get home to revise. Which of course I didn't have to do at all. Bliss. Monday I went out with all my 'IB buddies' to celebrate the end of everything resulting in a sleepover and thus getting up early for an 8.10 clarinet lesson which I had to cycle to. Highly amusing when still slightly drunk from the night before, especially for my clarinet teacher. I also went to the gym that day, but I'm pretty sure I ate the weight that I lost in picnic snacks and the BBQ my friend had the day after. It was glorious weather and it was lovely just to relax and eat and talk and do nothing else.

Italy
Next day. Italy. My oh my, I don't think I've had such a lovely holiday in a long while. Roman culture from 4 days in Roma. Walking round, sunny days, good food, beautiful people and exciting sights. Then a week in rural Tuscany in a mansion farmhouse with a brick yard, resident cats and rustic furnishing. It was just beautiful. We ventured out to some hill towns during the week, tasting a lot of wine and sampling the best hot chocolate I have ever had. The weather was quite an event in itself. With days so hot that you could barely be bothered to do anything other than lie in it and read dozens of books. Rain showers so hard that standing outside for 5 seconds would no doubt result in you become very very wet and hailstones so big that when driving to the airport on the motorway people had to put on hazard lights and stop under bridges for fear of their metal cars being dented. Standard Italian weather.

A week at home to rest
To see friends and to catch up with British life as a whole

Before heading to Spain
Ah, my first trip to Spain, and my first trip away without parents or a plan. We had rented an apartment which was so ideal it makes me squeal with joy every time I think about it. White walls, marble floors, a large balcony, a pool and the beach literally a leap away. No joke. We ran down into the sea in our bikinis with our towels and popped back home to get drinks and food during the day. No money, no keys, nothing else needed. Such a beautiful area with the mountains as your back drop whilst you swim and Africa onwards ahead of you. Nothing less than a beautiful relaxing, exciting place to be. Especially when the party doesn't start 'til 3am in Puerto Banus!

The Lion King
So our flight home was delayed by 5 hours... and I didn't get into bed until 6.30am the next day. This was also the day of Charlotte and I's trip to see the Lion King which we had got tickets for from our friends for our birthday. It was a good job it was amazing otherwise I would have been sleeping in the comfortable theatre seats. So good. So much colour and exuberance and wonderful singing. It made me want to be on stage singing those words pretending to be a lion everyday as my job. If only.

Other things since...
Include having my first driving lesson - bit late on that one. Music concert and various picnics with various friends. Garden parties, TV days, reading days, rainy days and very very hot days.

Wimbledon
I get a bit obsessed and glued to the screen this time of year, because of Wimbledon. I cannot play tennis at all, though I have tried and failed many many times, but that doesn't make me less interested in the sport when for two weeks the BBC broadcast live tennis from the Wimbledon championships. This year I wanted to take my obsession one step further, to actually attend the event in the flesh. So I did a bit of research on how to get tickets if you didn't get any through the ballot they have every year. Camping is the answer. So on Sunday I packed my tent, sleeping bag, food, clothes and Pimm's and off I went with some friends to camp in The Queue for the 2011 Championships. Little did we know that arriving at 5pm on Sunday for 'Manic Monday' was a bit too late to arrive. People had been queuing since Saturday morning. No joke. Despite this, we got our place in the queue. Number 1564. Not good enough for a show court ticket. We decided to stick with a ground pass. 9.30 on Monday we were in. A beautiful sight to behold. We watched the Murray match on 'Henman Hill' with strawberries and cream and Pimm's (no Wimbledon trip is complete without these, even an amateur knows that!). Went to see some doubles matches and junior matches on the other free courts and then decided to queue for resales for the Federer vs Youzhny match. Such a good decision. Within 20 minutes we had our tickets and were running at full pelt to court no. 1. We managed to catch the whole match bar 25 minutes, and what a good match it was. We left running on a high, but ready for bed.

Now I'm home and normal life has begun, though next week it's all off again with Benenden music school, theatre trips, exam results and more music concerts. I think this has been my best, if not busiest summer so far. I have had so much fun and I'm barely 2 months into this 4 and a half month extravaganza!

The Theatre

I am truly in love with the theatre. Just the occasion, the formality and the way it makes you feel. For a brief 2 or 3 hours you get to know a character so well - their insecurities, fears and vulnerability, but also what makes them tick, their thought processes and reasonings.

Being able to escape your own world is something which I think marks a great play, something which captivates you by the beauty of the scenery, the words or the acting and for a few hours you forget to check your watch and your life outside the auditorium. All that matters are the characters. What they say should involve you. It should make you feel like you should help them, run up give them a hug, celebrate with them, just be there to point something out.

Then I think of all the dedication these players have bought with them to the scene. I find this especially in Shakespeare. It’s not easy to understand and it’s easier to mis-interpret than to do so correctly, I just think of the sheer amount of work involved in understanding the language, actually making it mean something and letting it sound so natural, that I could easily find myself naturally wanting to adopt the Shakespearian language in the interval and after the performance.

I think that’s why I want to work in theatre, not to get up on stage and perform it myself necessarily, but just to be involved in the process. My dad always used to say, why be the spectator when you could be the performer, the producer or the director.

Warwick and Exeter now. So indecisive.

After all this time

TOK is sent off, German individual oral is over, philosophy coursework handed in, maths coursework handed in, English coursework handed in, Biology coursework almost done, Music coursework done, Extended essay sent off to Sri Lanka. Seeing a trend? Finally after so many months of turmoil everything is finally drawing in and coming to an end. And finally I revise to my heart's content. And, seriously, I want to revise. A lot.

I gave in my university choices to the school today to okay them. Warwick and University of East Anglia. After many pro and con lists, scrutinizing of the prospectuses, traveling from the very very top of England to the very very bottom, endless discussions with friends and teachers, interviews, rejections and offers, I have finally made my decision, based on nothing but what I want. And I am very happy and so excited. I feel that I have exhausted school and I am ready for something new in terms of education (if I could take my friends life would be perfect!). But yes, extremely happy and ready to revise to get my 38+ (I WANT 40) points that I need to get into Warwick.

All I can say, is that I am ready to sleep for a month. Hibernate. Though preferably, I would like to sleep and wake up as some kind of super human genius who just knows everything and will pass exams with flying colours, getting 45 points out of 45 points. Yes, that would most definitely suit me fine.

Friends

Yesterday was strange. A couple of my closest friends came home with me and we ate pizza, chocolate and watched Pride and Prejudice all together snuggled under one blanket on the sofa. We were just laughing about things that no one else would find funny and making funny comments about the film that no one else would understand.

Once they had all gone home I got a text saying:

'I love you :) Me and Helen cried on the way home just thinking about all going off to uni and not seeing each other that often. I'm going to miss you all so much.'

Thing is over the past two years I have made amazing friends, all of which are different and none that I will ever get tired of talking to. It scares me a bit that we'll all have to say goodbye soon. I don't think I am ready to leave school for that very reason because it means leaving people who I love.
Of course I am excited to meet new people and to build new friendships with different people, but I am afraid of forgetting what I had and losing touch with the people that knew me so well and that I could just be myself around because making friendships like that take time. Just thinking about this makes me realise how much I appreciate my friends. We don't do anything out of the ordinary and that's what I like. I like just sitting on the sofa eating rubbish and talking about things that don't matter. I can look for comfort in these people and I can be a source of comfort for them and I think I will miss having a people in my life like that for the first months of university. Friendships like the ones that I have built over the past years are not immediate, but they are something I really want to work at and make more of.

I just really don't want to forget the friends and memories that I have already had because I just want to know these people forever.

In my last post I commented on my love of snow. Now I am here to express my dislike of the very same substance. Or rather, my temporary dislike for it. It's hard to stay annoyed at it for long seeing as it cannot retaliate and the fact that it does look so pretty, and even more so close to christmas. This, however is an open letter to snow:

Dear Snow,

You are so pretty, so beautiful, so soft. You are just the right amount of cold and wet for you to be fun to run around and play in, but you do cause so much disruption. As an avid fan of yours I am highly disappointed with your timing. To be frank I don't think it is fair to cause pain to so many wonderful people who need to showcase their talents in the form of annual Christmas concerts. Due to your less than perfect timing all three of my planned Christmas concerts have been cancelled leading to day full of nothing to do and immediate boredom and lost time. These are things that I look forward to, Snow and seeing as these concerts were the last of their kind for me I feel that I can be rightly upset. Now, you better hurry up and leave so I can go to Denmark. If you do not comply, there will be serious consequences which include me hating you forever. If you do let off, then I will slowly begin to love you again, though it will take time.

Yours

Julia

Snow

Monday I wished and wished for snow. I didn't want to go to school, and sure enough the snow came. I was going to go to school, but I couldn't get there and back, so I decided not to and much to my delight at 11am the school was declared closed. We all thought that Tuesday we would be back at school, the snow was a thaw and I could already see it was melting. I was constantly checking BBC weather which claimed that the snow would be heavy all of Tuesday night and the following day. It sure delivered. I woke up to so much snow. More than I have ever seen before. Immediate happiness. Snow is just a rarity here. Most people like it despite the interruptions. It makes everything so beautiful and I suppose it takes people back to times when they were younger and celebrated the first snow fall in exactly the same way as they do now. Yes, it is disruptive and after a while it does become incredibly annoying, but you can't help but love it for a while. Everything is brighter and all the ugly features are hidden, it's fun and exciting especially when it comes up to your knees.

The tale of the three brothers

I loved Ron and Hermione throughout the whole of Deathly Hallows.

I've noticed that most of the parts that I wanted the film to keep all had Ron in them:

Ron and his constant whispering of magical words to the radio and finally getting the right password. I just find this part so happy and funny in the midst of so much destruction and insecurity.

Harry and Ron talking when he comes back and he is explaining about the deluminator saying that Dumbledore must have always known he would have walked out, but then Harry turning around and saying 'no, he must have always known he would want to come back.' - such a heartwarming, guy love moment.

Ron's birthday present to Harry: 'How to charm witches' and then trying it out on Hermione.

Hermione getting really angry at Ron when he comes back and Harry casting the 'protago' spell between them.

Luna's room with all the painting of Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione, all connected with ribbons spelling out 'friends'

Xenophilius Lovegood's crumplehornsnack exploding.

Ron going insane in the cellar of Malfoy Manor whilst Hermione is upstairs

The invisibility cloak in Godric's Hollow

Despite this, I loved the film and I suppose those bits are just things that stuck in my mind from the book, and I suppose everyone has small, almost insignificant elements from the book that they love contrary to their importance. I am actually so happy that most of the parts that I loved from the book stayed.

I have never been as stressed as I am now. Everything keeps mounting into this impossible mountain that not even the best mountaineer can maneuver efficiently. Whenever I'm out and about I forget about it, but then I come home and there is a massive weight which comes with stepping into the house, a consent pressure on me. I can't just sit and do nothing anymore, every moment has to be filled and cannot be wasted. I want to slow down, to stop and sit and just stare out of a window. I can't help but think that all my anxiety and sadness is just selfish and self-involved. I want to keep myself closed off, yet I want people to pity me. I don't know how I feel. I just feel like I am under an enormous amount of pressure, not just by my parents, but also by myself. I try telling myself that if I don't end up at my dream university it is because I am not suited to that environment and in truth I know I'll be happy where ever I end up. Yet still I feel so disheartened and deflated about everything. Constantly in the shadows in my own small home.

No returns

So I was listening to the radio in the car the other day. Apparently NASA are planning a one way trip to Mars. With a maximum of 4 people. Who would go? Why would they go? How would they decide to go? How would they tell their friends and family they were going to go?

And what if they didn't like it.

For yourself

Tuesday I went to see Joshua Radin with a bunch of my friends. Once in a while you need to go out in the middle of the week and just do something fun, out of routine, out of the ordinary day to day life. If you do that every now and then, you always have something to look forward to. No one likes a formulaic film - so why make your life seem like one.

I don't think I've ever found an artist that I just want to listen to all day. His albums could be on repeat constantly and I would not get bored and want to turn it over. It's easy listening, yet at the same time it's incredibly detailed. Each song is entirely different, there isn't two which sound alike. Through his albums you can hear his progression as an artist. He ventures into different styles and types of music, yet always keeps the essence of his music.

When you go and see a show you expect to hear music, that's all you've ever heard from the artist. But when we went to see Joshua Radin play, you got so much more. He literally spoke for around 2 minutes before he played a couple of songs, explaining what each of them meant to him and why he wrote, and actually engaging with the audience. Telling us and making us listen to the words of the song, getting us to participate and helping him in making the song complete. At one point he just stood away from the microphone and listened to the audience singing along to his song 'It's a brand new day' with a massive smile on his face. At the beginning he sang a whole song without using a microphone, who else would have the courage to do that and the confidence in themselves. He's not just a singer who wants it for the fame and the money, from seeing him on stage, you can tell that he really enjoys what he is doing especially clear when he ended his set with the first song he ever wrote; 'Winter' causing the whole audience to listen and turn completely silent.

It think its something we should all adopt. The ability to want something and do something, not just for money or for recognition, but for ourselves and our own self satisfaction. It's a hard thing to do, even for people who realise that this is what we should be like.

Impossibility

Impossible is just a big word thrown around

by small men who find it easier

to live in the world they have been given than

to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact.

It’s an opinion.

Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare.

Impossible is potential.

Impossible is temporary.

Impossible is nothing.

The nature of perceiving.

I bought some heels yesterday. I'm not really the type of person to buy or walk round in heels. But I bought some anyway because I thought they would go well with a dress that I bought. So I need to start practising walking in them because currently it is not so good. I don't look elegant or beautiful. I look like a person who hasn't learnt to walk. How do they make it look so easy!

Despite the late date in the year the infamous Sun has decided to make a brief appearance again. Who knows how long it could last, maybe this one day is all we've got before winter kicks in and takes over with frosty mornings and cosy evenings. Sometimes I feel that looking at the weather forecast is like cheating. The spontaneity stops and you can predict everything. Although it seems like there is nothing worse than being caught in the rain wearing a skirt and sandals, looking back on all those times in London where paper bags have broken due to torrential down pours is actually quite humorous. Your misfortune is an impracticality of life, and it is just one that makes life that little more interesting when you want to retell the story of how it felt like you were going to drown from the insanity of the weather.

Sartre says that the only way you feel a certain way, like shame or elation, is because of other people perceiving you. It's true. The more I think about it, the more true it becomes. If you fall over, the only reason why you feel embarrassed it because others laugh at you. The only reason why you re-tell a story in the hyperbolic way that you do is so that people will laugh with you or show a reaction. Without the reaction from other people how boring would life be. We live to please others and for other people to acknowledge that. It's not a bad thing.

100 years in a week

It seems a lot of my blog posts are about the future, so I'm going to stick to that convention and write another.

Yesterday I was watching a programme about time travel by Stephen Hawkings. Technically we have already made a time machine - the large hadron collider in Switzerland has proved that a certain type of particle which normally self combusts after around 125th of a second, when fired in the LHC takes double the time to self combust.

On the programme he spoke about how it was theoretically was possible for humans to travel into the future and that it is only our technology which is limiting us to make these machines that allow us to do the very thing everyone is so interested in doing. Many of the images created on the programme we computer generated images that aided us to understand how it could be possible. He used the example of a train track that went around the whole world. The train would pick up speed and suddenly when it reached 99.999999% of the speed that light travels in (7 times round the world in a second) 1 week on the train would be 100 years in the future as time on board the train would be slowed down so as not to reach the full speed of light.

It just made me think. There is no way back, we can't travel back in time. Who would take that trip if it were at all possible. We have no idea what the future can hold, our predictions are way out of league and mainly based on the notion of hope. We hope that the world can become a place of renewable energy sources, we hope that large areas of land are not underwater, we hope that there is peace and harmony amongst others and nature, and we hope there is fairness and freedom in society. But how much of what we hope will come true? Travelling to the future could mean gazing into a world where there actually is nothing. Maybe not 100 years into the future, but if we went further. A millennium into the future. What would be find?

Evolving

So blogging has taken a back shelf recently - school started just about a week and a half ago, though it seems like I've been waking up at ungodly hours and dragging my self to school for months on end. It's such a weird feeling.

Yesterday I watched '2001: a Space odyssey' - and I really haven't stopped thinking about it since. It's such an odd film, something completely ahead of it's time in the sense of plot, ideas and even the cinematography and CGI. Initially the whole plot seems to be a waste of time; essentially there isn't one that is ever complete or explained, and Kubrick, the director obviously wants the audience to ask questions and interpret the film in their own way and have their own ideas.

However essentially the film is about human nature. What does it mean to be human? A question I am constantly faced with in my philosophy lessons. It values evolution. It shows the human race in it's simplest form, apes. When confronted with a mysterious monolith the apes showed clear signs of fear and angst, disturbance my this alien object, yet at the same time a fair amount of curiosity, wrought forward by their courage. Taking a step forward and examining the object in it's entirety, the apes take a step forward and evolve. A simple idea that we can all learn from.

If we cannot full grasp new ideas and concepts, if we are not curious about life and inventions, if we feel no need to learn new things, then how as a race can we move forward?

Sun Rise

Okay, here is another little story for you. For GCSE English there is a part where you have to describe something using a load of senses and descriptive language. We did a load of practice in class for it, each with different titles. This is one about a sun rise:

I’ve done it many times before and never have I seen the same sight. I have a photograph recollection of all the times I’ve been here in the same spot and every one is different. I often enjoy looking through them, not only to look at the picture taken, but how technology has changed from black and white old pictures to the ones that I’ve printed from the computer. The photographs however never capture the true essence of what is and what was, never will I be able to recall sounds I heard, feel the touch of the winters icy frost or summers light breeze or smell the freshly fallen dew on cut grass, for never will there be a moment like the one nature will produce now. For everyday is different, we can neither stop time nor call it back, it’s indefinite and brings us hoping and surprises.

Today was the same, a surprise, a wonder to my eye.

It took me longer than usual to get out of the house as I was taking along one of my Grandchildren and although I had told her in order to see a miracle she would have to get up early, be alert, ready and willing. However trying to get a 7 year old up and out of bed is not a task I myself would settle for everyday. Constantly anxious for whether I would miss the start of Mother Nature’s day not wanting to disappoint myself nor Rose for what I had promised her would be a sight she would always remember and trying not to get myself frustrated with her, while she frolicked around the house singing with her tooth brush in her mouth, waking herself up, but also the rest of the household.

Soon we were off. Rose singing ‘Oh What a Beautiful Morning’ at the top of her lungs with power that I no longer am familiar with and me trying to keep up with her carefree skip as we trudged through the park . The fresh spring air was crisp and cool; the grass was still wet from last night’s dew. The droplets glistened without the sun’s rays to reflect off of them, they were different from every angle and as we walked through the grass our shoes became increasing wet. There was a path nearby, but the grass was soft and bouncy on our feet so we stayed where we were. A few early daisies were dotted around, their petals closed to avoid the morning nip in the air. I suspected we would see them fully open showing off their pure flower when we would return this way in a few hours.

We stopped by the old Oak tree, which I guessed to be a few hundred years old. It towered above us high and dense with no intention of stopping. It was in the winter months you could fully appreciate the vast structure of the tree, but in spring time it was just as wonderful watching new buds appear and the green leaves unfold to make a truly magnificent sight filled with life. I saw a few birds starting to appear and soon the morning chorus was in full swing blocking out any traffic noise that ever was. No conductor to tell each singer the timing, no sheet music to tell them what note to sing, and no limit on what they could do. True improvisation. Rose started to whistle along, imitating the calls she heard from around her obviously marvelled by the tunes they were making.

We sat down at the foot of the tree, each sitting on an enormous root erupting up from the ground. I set up my camera, while Rose sat beside me eating the peanut butter sandwiches greedily I had made as a snack, dropping crumbs on the park floor that would most probably be picked up by a hungry bird later that day.

A touch of pink brushed the sky making it blush a furious red colour striped colourfully with lines of blue and lilac as well. From where we sat I could just see the tip of the Sun over the horizon eye level with us. I switched on my camera and stood up, Rose copied me, dropping her peanut butter sandwich and eagerly sucking her fingers clean she took my hand.

Together we watched as the Sun rose, slowly, but at a speed where it changed everything so quickly. Soon the flushed red sky turned orange and yellow as the Sun presented itself into the new day. Pastel colours, like the one’s I find in Rose’s crayon pot flooded the sky with delight. A bird flew across the scene to make it complete blackened out forming a silhouette where the sun shone brightly upon it. I looked to my right there her jaw hanging open in awe stood Rose. I gently let go of her hand and focused my camera on her with our scene and took a picture.

As the sky lost colour and turned increasingly blue, we started to head back. Once back home in the comfort of the house, our shoes on the radiator and a mug of Hot Chocolate in our hands, Rose’s mother asked: “What was it like Rose?”, she merely replied “Good, go and see for yourself.” But I knew she thought it was more than “good”, I knew she found it awe inspiring and wonderful. Because I have a picture which captures memories and sights like that.