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Nov. 7th, 2009 at 5:34 PM
These are words that Lola gave me. If you want five words I associate with you, shout 'Words!' at me in the comments. I'm not very good at associating people with words, so you might end up having to talk about omelettes.
Cake
OH, CAKE. I love cake. Is that enough? I love that I've been associated with the word 'cake' because it's one of my favourite words, and things. I don't really trust people who don't like cake. Even YOU. I like making cakes, I like looking at cakes and I especially like consuming cakes. I don't know what my favourite cake is. Well, probably it's chocolate, but I'm also very partial to a really good Victoria sponge, and lemon cake, and also a very basic but very moist almond cake is nice. I don't feel much guilt over eating cake because mostly I'm just overwhelmed with the warm replete brilliance of having eaten cake and I'd rather not sacrifice it for the cold hungry sense of grim dutiful decency you get from having not eaten cake. I'm very glad cake exists. Well done, cake.
Art
I've only really had any sort of a relationship with art because of NaArMaMo. I'm useless at art appreciation, know little to nothing about art history, though I do know that I like Escher and Dufy and pictures of very bright seas and that one of the skating vicar, and also the National Portrait Gallery. But I have always enjoyed drawing, since I was really quite small. At primary school I was always considered good at art, as in top-of-the-class good, which was nice because I wasn't top-of-the-class good in anything else. Then I went to high school and had that whole little fish in a big pond experience and encountered lots of people who were much, much better at art than I was, which was frankly a little bit rude of them. But I didn't really mind unduly and continued to enjoy art, and most particular drawing portraits. I remember drawing a portrait of Willie Nelson when I was ten, and though it wasn't much like the ones I've been doing recently (aiming for not-quite-photo-realism so when they don't look photo-realistic I can pretend they're not meant to 'cause that's what cameras are for) it was recognisably Willie Nelson and I was proud of it. Sadly I've misplaced it. I took art to GCSE level. I got a B, which was a nice thing to get, and my five-hour exam project was a chalk pastel montage of F1 scenes with a big portrait of Michael Schumacher in the corner. Then I forgot to draw anything for the next fourteen years until I decided to do NaArMaMo in 2008, and I completely loved it and managed for the first time to draw portraits the way I'd always wanted to draw them, with shading and stuff. So that's me and art. Or did you mean Garfunkel?
Writing
Oh yeah. That's what I'm meant to be doing right now. I do write, when I'm being less rubbish. At the moment I have no ability to concentrate, which doesn't mesh well with the whole writing thing, though I did manage about an hour this afternoon. I've never referred to myself as a writer. I don't know why; I just don't quite feel justified in so doing, though I certainly don't believe one needs to be published in order to call oneself a writer. Maybe I just think it's one of those thing other people need to say about you rather than a name you bestow upon yourself. I don't know. I haven't always written: I wrote what I was told to write at school, but I didn't do any creative writing off my own bat till I was eighteen. I don't find writing easy, which some flippant egotist once said was the difference between a writer and a non-writer, but it is the thing I most want to do in the world. In a general sense anyway. Obviously not in a practical and immediate sense, otherwise that's what I'd be doing. I will never write poetry.
Cats
Cats are hugely important to me. My life pretty much revolves around my cat at present - he's old and needy and strange and currently won't eat unless several precise and ever-changing conditions are first met. But I wouldn't choose any other way. I've always had cats: there were two in the house before I was born, then two more kittens arrived when I was five. We've had seven different cats over the years. They've all been ace. I'm also instantly fond of any cat I meet in the street, which doesn't tend to happen so much with random people. Cats make me uncynical. About cats anyway.
Travelling
Well, I don't really do this anymore, and I never really did much of it in the first place, but there was India .. two months I spent in India in 2004 that I've been stretching thin ever since. I didn't travel much as a kid - there was two brief trips to France with the school, but aside from that I didn't go abroad. Our family holidays were all spent within the UK, and were all lovely. I've been abroad with my father - we had an indulgent spell of attending Grand Prix in Europe, managing Belguim, Italy and Spain over the course of a few years - but never with my mother. India was my first trip abroad alone, and I was properly terrified, though covered it excellently by turning into a zombie. Then I got there and loved it entirely and was properly miserable the day I had to leave. That sort of sums up my feelings about travelling. I tend to love being in a new place once I'm there, but I'm not sure if it's worth the stress of actually going. Being a monoglot doesn't help. I last went abroad in 2004 - I spent a few days in Barcelona a couple of months after coming back from India. I can't really afford to travel now and the longer you go without travelling the more arduous a prospect it becomes. So I really have no idea to what extent I feel hard done by. Certainly I think it's a luxury, and I'm glad not to be contributing to air traffic.
Cake
OH, CAKE. I love cake. Is that enough? I love that I've been associated with the word 'cake' because it's one of my favourite words, and things. I don't really trust people who don't like cake. Even YOU. I like making cakes, I like looking at cakes and I especially like consuming cakes. I don't know what my favourite cake is. Well, probably it's chocolate, but I'm also very partial to a really good Victoria sponge, and lemon cake, and also a very basic but very moist almond cake is nice. I don't feel much guilt over eating cake because mostly I'm just overwhelmed with the warm replete brilliance of having eaten cake and I'd rather not sacrifice it for the cold hungry sense of grim dutiful decency you get from having not eaten cake. I'm very glad cake exists. Well done, cake.
Art
I've only really had any sort of a relationship with art because of NaArMaMo. I'm useless at art appreciation, know little to nothing about art history, though I do know that I like Escher and Dufy and pictures of very bright seas and that one of the skating vicar, and also the National Portrait Gallery. But I have always enjoyed drawing, since I was really quite small. At primary school I was always considered good at art, as in top-of-the-class good, which was nice because I wasn't top-of-the-class good in anything else. Then I went to high school and had that whole little fish in a big pond experience and encountered lots of people who were much, much better at art than I was, which was frankly a little bit rude of them. But I didn't really mind unduly and continued to enjoy art, and most particular drawing portraits. I remember drawing a portrait of Willie Nelson when I was ten, and though it wasn't much like the ones I've been doing recently (aiming for not-quite-photo-realism so when they don't look photo-realistic I can pretend they're not meant to 'cause that's what cameras are for) it was recognisably Willie Nelson and I was proud of it. Sadly I've misplaced it. I took art to GCSE level. I got a B, which was a nice thing to get, and my five-hour exam project was a chalk pastel montage of F1 scenes with a big portrait of Michael Schumacher in the corner. Then I forgot to draw anything for the next fourteen years until I decided to do NaArMaMo in 2008, and I completely loved it and managed for the first time to draw portraits the way I'd always wanted to draw them, with shading and stuff. So that's me and art. Or did you mean Garfunkel?
Writing
Oh yeah. That's what I'm meant to be doing right now. I do write, when I'm being less rubbish. At the moment I have no ability to concentrate, which doesn't mesh well with the whole writing thing, though I did manage about an hour this afternoon. I've never referred to myself as a writer. I don't know why; I just don't quite feel justified in so doing, though I certainly don't believe one needs to be published in order to call oneself a writer. Maybe I just think it's one of those thing other people need to say about you rather than a name you bestow upon yourself. I don't know. I haven't always written: I wrote what I was told to write at school, but I didn't do any creative writing off my own bat till I was eighteen. I don't find writing easy, which some flippant egotist once said was the difference between a writer and a non-writer, but it is the thing I most want to do in the world. In a general sense anyway. Obviously not in a practical and immediate sense, otherwise that's what I'd be doing. I will never write poetry.
Cats
Cats are hugely important to me. My life pretty much revolves around my cat at present - he's old and needy and strange and currently won't eat unless several precise and ever-changing conditions are first met. But I wouldn't choose any other way. I've always had cats: there were two in the house before I was born, then two more kittens arrived when I was five. We've had seven different cats over the years. They've all been ace. I'm also instantly fond of any cat I meet in the street, which doesn't tend to happen so much with random people. Cats make me uncynical. About cats anyway.
Travelling
Well, I don't really do this anymore, and I never really did much of it in the first place, but there was India .. two months I spent in India in 2004 that I've been stretching thin ever since. I didn't travel much as a kid - there was two brief trips to France with the school, but aside from that I didn't go abroad. Our family holidays were all spent within the UK, and were all lovely. I've been abroad with my father - we had an indulgent spell of attending Grand Prix in Europe, managing Belguim, Italy and Spain over the course of a few years - but never with my mother. India was my first trip abroad alone, and I was properly terrified, though covered it excellently by turning into a zombie. Then I got there and loved it entirely and was properly miserable the day I had to leave. That sort of sums up my feelings about travelling. I tend to love being in a new place once I'm there, but I'm not sure if it's worth the stress of actually going. Being a monoglot doesn't help. I last went abroad in 2004 - I spent a few days in Barcelona a couple of months after coming back from India. I can't really afford to travel now and the longer you go without travelling the more arduous a prospect it becomes. So I really have no idea to what extent I feel hard done by. Certainly I think it's a luxury, and I'm glad not to be contributing to air traffic.
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