st(uf)f

In Spanish they say “¡Uf!” kinda when they mean “Goodness me!”.

When the moment is uncertain or, at the very least, a little unclear.

Today, for me, is one of those dayz.

One of those daze indeed.

I am still in Ireland.  I fly back on Tuesday.  This morning, I got myself a spoken-Irish language course.  It’s the least I could do, being my intentions are to continue returning.

I also bought a bad words book, as a treat and a bit of fun.  It’s always goofy to have fun, yer know.  Always goofy.

And goofy is good.

The only sadness in my life right now are bridges burnt, and not necessarily by me this time.  Maybe new bridges need to be built, or maybe they need to start from different riverbanks.

Only time and patience can now tell.

Only time and patience.

At least I have a singular purpose for the next year.  And at last my children will be able to say unequivocally what I am doing.  I do it for me in a way I have never done before, but even so I do it for them too so this will be possible for them.

For their pride and for their sense of self-worth.

If you’re interested in finding out more, here are the details of the MA I will be studying:

https://www.ljmu.ac.uk/study/courses/postgraduates/criminal-justice 

The opportunities are immense.  My life clearly is to change in so many ways.

I hope I am up to the challenge.

I hope – and trust – I am.

#folkdock16

I had a great time in Liverpool today, as mostly I always do.  And when I don’t … well, fuck it, it’s a state of mind I sometimes carry around with me, so forgive me if yous can.

And if yous can’t … well, fuck it too!

Below, some photos I took in and around the #folkdock16 festival currently running this weekend.

Tomorrow, when I have access to my PC, I’ll write a more considered piece on my reactions to the Slavery exhibition at the Maritime Museum.  But in the meantime, do enjoy the following.


the #beatlesstory #liverpool (ii)

I went to a second part of the Beatles Story today.  It was at the Pier Head, and involved a beautifully made immersive and audiovisual – as well as rather wet! – experience.  I enjoyed myself thoroughly, and coupling it with yesterday’s exhibition can entirely and fully recommend the two.

I’ve spent the rest of the day laughing, crying and being utterly impressed by the city of Liverpool, the place and its people.  And to be honest, the possessive is quite the wrong way of attaching the city and people together: it’s a union born of embraces and the love of freedom rather than the ownership of chattels from other century.

And indeed it is true: Liverpool has seen its fair share of such possession: it was built on the slave trade, and required the highest price of the human beings it objectified.

I have cried today at the slave trade, still ongoing in far too many places; still ongoing in certain ways in very private lives.

But my own sadnesses, of which I have both received and severely caused, pale into terrible insignificance when compared with the suffering that slaves have suffered: a suffering which has wrought awful damage in the very interior of their cultural, social and political DNA.

And I would agree most sincerely: there is much slavery around, even now: it involves chains, maybe, but casual assumptions held lightly too.

Though their consequences are anything but light.

So.

I have lived a wonderful day of love to my person today, and I have learnt so much I should already have known.  And I have seen wonderful singers and magnificent bands.  And I have been pursued relentlessly around the Albert Docks by a man and woman who are clearly aiming to be my nemeses.

Yet I bear them no ill: truly quite the opposite.  My amusement at how they made me feel was part of today’s wondrous wondrous moments.

There is no better day than the day you joyfully meet yourself.  And there is no better moment than when meeting yourself, you finally are able to fall in love.

Thank you one and all.  Yous are sincerely, frankly, magnificently … goddamn cool!  And whilst I still don’t know exactly why, nor what my future holds in store, I’m kinda beginning to get an idea.

But we’ll leave that thought for another day, yeah?  Or at least another moment this evening.  First, I need to eat yer know; even I do, sometimes.  Even I do.

And maybe – who knows? – I’ll also get lucky enough one day to have friends and people and family and a life which allows me to share not only a fish supper but also a yellow breakfast or two.

Yellow meaning my future. 

A future of sunrise.

A future of freedom.