'Colours'

"You can have any colour as long as its black"

(Henry Ford, 1918)

Really Henry? Although Henry Ford's quote in reference to the production of his 'T-model' somewhat characterized the scientific management era of low-cost and mass production techniques. His quote punned on the fact that methods now produced standardized products which led to the fact that customers had a limited choice of alternative. I explore somewhat of a more post-modern and sociological argument in that people have what I call 'colour'. These are things that make them amazing. Things that are interesting. In short, although this Henry's quote may have been true for car production at the time; for people then, as it is now, I believe he was incorrect...


I really like the idea that people often want to show their lives off. They want to share something which they consider as entirely ordinary, a regularity, a familiarity and for a short period of time they share that 'colour' with you. It could be a passing comment, a second. Equally sharing it with you might be a commonality in its own right and how often we overlook it when people do! The amazing thing is that people share their 'colours' with you and I for one consider it entirely extraordinary, you to me can be extraordinary. It is a nice idea to allow others to view you in an environment, situation or place that simply shows your 'colours'. It shows your character. They say that sport does not build character, but rather reveal it...reveal it indeed. It is usually a side which is not seen unless that situation is provoked. One moment you are something, put in the right place at the right time and you go from normality to a fish in the water. The ordinary becomes extraordinary in an instance, a nano-second. Its a nice thought to think that if you push the right buttons that someone will produce or do something that a) you didn't know and b) you will find amazing, or interesting at worst. I recall a meso-philosophical conversation I had with my brother a few months back now. My brother, like myself, is a keen basketballer. When he plays, he plays with heart. He plays hard and I know that in that moment he is happy, entirely comfortable and at ease. He was playing down a local basketball court against some other recreational athletes of whom he didnt know before. Basketball, like any situation of triumph and tribulation, it soon provided gravitas for conversation and camaraderie and it turned out that one of the randomers he met that day was a barman at a local bar. Needless to say, the barman was a better drinker than a basketball player (most plausibly due to the excess alcohol consumption). As the game and the day wore on, the barman soon grew an admiration for the talents of my brother (standard dowling trait) which led him to the response after a left handed lay-up after getting fouled off a screen (excuse the basketball terminology; reserved for only true sportsmen) of "hey man, your amazing". This conversation is somewhat illustrative of what I certainly would consider one (of many) of my brothers true 'colours'. The interesting and somewhat of a paradox is the equal juxtaposition of the barman's 'colours'. The barman happened to be a manager of a very popular and trendy bar in town reserved for those with more money than sense (not less money and more sense...). Now, put my brother and the barman there...put them in that bar. Now the barman's 'colours' are shown. He flares, faultlessly and flawlessly, multitasks and serves with an admirable efficiency almost compared to German car manufacturing. Whilst the baller is firmly placed on the other side of the bar at the consumption end of a service and at a premium for it.

We all have diverse, multiple and often considerable compartments of 'colours' which constitute our character. Moreover those 'colours' are revealed given the right time and place. Given the right environment. I find this a rather intriguing thought with a number of implications.

Firstly, and despite my often cynical answer in this regard, it means that no matter who you are or equally of whom you see in front of you. You (or they) have something that paints the world a different colour. You have something about you that people didnt expect, something that is interesting. You all have something to offer, no matter how seemingly ordinary you feel they are; even in the illustration above playing basketball and working at a bar seem irrelevant in the 'grand scheme of things'. Well, no. I argue otherwise and that, but the brother baller and the barman I will assume to take what they do as part and parcel of their existence, they are right. But they are rather (un)blissfully aware of the beauty that they hold.

This rather aptly leads on to the second implication. I fondly recall the admiration of both men for each other. The barman admired the king of the basketball court, whilst the king of the bar was doted on with wealth for an exchange of a good beverage crafted with style and ease. Given a situation and the relevant cues which produce an emotional and physical response. People have more often than not either got a pure talent for something, gifted and innate, or they have spent a considerable time and effort to sculpt out a 'colour'. Either way, it should be admired and respected and in some cases even loved. Friends and relationships elicit these moments, time and influence. To be in a place where one is comfortable to share their true colours with you and in a humble and modest way, then they are a person I would wish to always and forever known. You may not be good at everything and indeed no one is. Those closest to you should provide that colour in your life and create something of a painting. No life is a masterpiece, yet we all try to learn to paint. My painting is vaguely metaphorically akin to a piece of modern art rather than a Monet, but I am working on it. When life feels a little grey, you merely have to look around you at the friends and loved ones you ahve to realise the sheer amount of colour in your life. Perhaps then you will realise your seemingly monochrome personality is not only surrounded but a spectrum and palette of colour, but also that indeed you drip with colour on others. For me the former part of Henry's quote is true. For me "you can have any colour...", you just need to look...


x9

A Single Man

"I must learn to love the fool in me the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries"

A single man, upfront, honest, free, and this blog is a single mans 'say what you think' session. It is entirely self-reflective, self loathing and in all honesty not a good or easy read (I will warn you in advance), but I feel that this single man has not been honest with himself in recent times. He has not really told anyone how he truly feel. He has told snippets to people here and there, and they will reflect on some of what is said with understanding, but most will read this and think very little of both him and the content. But sometimes as a writer the honest truth is something that no one wants to read, but there is something deep inside you which compels you to write for the sake of writing and say the honest truth because if you cant then we simply live a lie through omission.

In (extreme) short this single mans life is characterised by the following: (1) boredom, (2) liberalism, (3) a lack of confidence (4) being out of love, (5) fat and out of shape and (6) closed.

(1) + (2) The Boredom and Liberalism factors (yawn ZzZzZz)
My life does very little to inspire me and I have wanted something more for a while now. This easter I spent half of it at a hotel earning enough money to eat at university this term and the other half working on my life line of a dissertation (which I shall come back to later). This easter I was something that I have never been, for one I dabbled in smoking, I did it when I got drunk and I had to be drunk. I did it mainly for its cathartic effect and I admit it relaxed me. I also started two fights in two successive weeks. Why is a question I have continually asked, well partly I believe because I was clearly bored and so so sadly I felt that my night would be more interesting if it did, and partly because after being out in cambridge for over 5 years I am perfectly aware of the consequences of starting a fight in cambridge as 9 times out of 10 a fight never happens. A middle class boy placing a safe bet to get a kick out of nothing. Purely and simply, sad. Other things in my mind have shifted, and boundaries past Mat would quite simply find disgusting. I have considered drugs, deeply. I am yet to do any form of, but I will openly admit it is something that I consider and would try. They say as you get older you get wiser; whether thats true I have no idea yet. I look back at myself say 5 years ago and I see someone who was afraid, someone that tried to control all the variables in his life. He was able to successfully control the most blindly obvious and overt variables, drinking, smoking, drugs. However the truth is he couldn't. What he did was out of fear and ignorance. I was happy in my ingorance. I do not pledge that I am a better person for it now; if anything quite the contrary. I know that my view is more liberal, more open to ideas and something I really used to struggle with, more accepting. Some of the most brightest, interesting, intelligent, down to earth people I know take drugs, they take them for a variety of reasons, some good, some bad. One of my best friends started to take drugs heavily and the sad thing is that he felt my judgement on him was so severe that he didnt even tell me he was taking them. It pushed us apart, regardless of everything else, it pushed us apart. I find that sad and an eye opener to the truth that it matters not of our actions. Our actions are something small within something so much more complex and intricate.
Boredom also lies within my routine. I have little in the way of formal contact time at university. I have two modules yet to complete as part of my MSc and my 20,000 word thesis. My thesis, in my view, will happen regardless, I enjoy the work that much I consider it as happening, even if for the sake of happening. I now flirt with the prospect of exam period, I know that many of my friends, especially ones who I feel close to are now in a time of complete crunch. Time to make something of yourself and I know the feeling, I was you last year. Exam period for me is the worst time of the year, it drags and drags me down to the depths of insanity. I cant stand it, the one thing that I like about it is the purity of doing the same thing day in and day out, the purity is the one thing I like about it. I sit at a desk all day feeling fat and bored and thinking about the same thing over and over again until it gets (or does not get) into my thick skull. I do not have a gift for memory or natural intelligence and thus repetition or interest are my two power plays for learning parrot fashion what the lecturer who is marking my paper wants to here. Yes, its jumping through hoops in my mind, one giant and complex game.

(3) The confidence factor (confidence is a preference to the habitual boy...)
This an interesting one for me and something I have yet to fully articulate even to myself in my head, so ill just go along with it and do my best. I severely lack confidence at the moment, I find it worrying. I find myself stuttering when I talk to people, I cant say what I think in my head and even if I think it in my head, I question whether or not to say it and if I decide to say it I find the moment has gone. I find it astounding. Confidence is something I thought I always had and perhaps I should accept that certainly when I was younger a small proportion of that was arrogance. I dont know why, but as I have grown up, certainly over the past 5 years, I have genuinely become less confident and less extrovert. I look down at the front when someone looks at me, particular if its a girl that I find attractive. At the moment I question every action I take, every text I send to people, every word I usually write. I have been conducting interviews with a number of people for my dissertation and I found myself out of my depth even interviewing people. I cannot articulate myself in the way I would like to. I see these people throughout the sporting world, throughout my social circle, throughout loughborough. In particular the academics that lecture me day in and day out and I admire them. They stand up for nearly two hours and rant about a particular subject so successfully, with such clarity and passion. I cant help but feel a sense of admiration along with a sense of fear and anxiety. The matter of truth is that I will, in all likely hood pursue that career as an academic, and in so many ways I can see myself doing it, I would enjoy so so much about it. But the thought of me standing up and talking in such a manner to successfully transfer the knowledge so easily over two hours repeitively is something I will truly find testing, challenging and of great hardship. My confidence is not there you see, I question whether I am cut out for that career. Its what I want to do. Many question whether it is the right choice, my hesitation is not through desire to do anything else, but questioning of my own ability to be a good academic, a good lecturer. Inability is the greatest factor here not inhibition. As a teen I wrote often about confidence, I was fascinated by it and in some respects I still am. It is an amazing and intrguing thing confidence. The power and influence it can have, how false it can often be etc I find amazing. But I really feel at the moment my esteem and confidence have hit somewhat of a meltdown and recession like dip with the ego-nomic recovery hopefully in place.

(4) out of love. 'absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder' -bastard who ever wrote that
I wanted to start this section about something I love as opposed to what I dont love. In an extremely, extremely sad way I really dont know what I would have done this year if I didn't have my dissertation this year. I love it and it keeps me occupied. The ironic thing about the whole thing is that I type here and now sitting on my bed at a hidiously late hour with a shoe box on the floor next to my bed consisting of every document and data I have collected for my project and it feels like my life. The irony sets in when I realise that slightly further under my bed is another box containing a my life also...I miss her, I really do and it has taken me a longer time to even contemplate opening that box. I assume she will not read this, few do and as such it matters not. She, certainly right now I feel like she is a woman I could not ever let go. I cannot think of anything more I suck at than women. They are entirely infatuating, intoxicating and intriguing, well the ones I have fell in love with anyhow. In the respect of love I am on a journey of entirely unchartered territory and boy dont I feel im splashing and thrashing around in the deep end. I am single. I have been for the 5 month this month. For those who know me, I will say no more, for those who don't such a feet is quite frankly shocking behaviour. I feel it is entirely tesitment to the effect miss dougal had/has on my life and tesitment to perhaps mr dowling finally learning that love is not something you play with, certainly not quickly. It took my bloody long enough. The people I have dated in my past have been phenomenal. Amazing people, all of them. Unquestionably. Circumstance plays a cruel part in setting the scene for my often epic novel episodes of love. My first real love has now turned the tables and is seriously dating. Something which shouldn't but truthfully unnerves me. Lets me clear about this, she deserves an amazing guy; after all she is an amazing woman, but she is in a much better place than I am; and that is the honest truth. My last girlfriend plays a very different card. She is in a completely different world focused on what means more to her than anything in the world right now, her work. Work is her driving force and I cnat help but find myself admiring her for it. I always have. Her finals along with a useful catalyst from myself in december put her out a relatioship and into the library, had led to an annoying and saddening truth that really to her certainly at this given point in time, I matter very little. I hard pill to swallow I guess. I was right about the dissapearing act so far and what scares me is that by the end of june, our paths stay as they are now, hurtling in opposite directions.... I was having a rather beautiful, frank and honest conversation with an old friend in London the other day, a level of honesty I have massively struggled to reach. I guess the factors of determination, a nice day, nothing to lose and half a bottle of rose changed that if only for a while. Our conversation took many tangents one of which discussed the blindingly apparent truth about relationships the older you get. The older you get I find the shorter your tether becomes. Whereas once diplomacy and time led to people arguing, disagreeing, maybe splitting up only to mend it over a weekend of entrenched discussions and treaty signing. This typically characterised my adolescence. As I got older, after people have felt pain and behaviour had been reinforced that pain, well...hurts. The smallest of disputes, situations which despite rhetoric would mend itself as nothing more than a phase, both parties end up with wounds that no longer heel and cuts that we no longer accept. We walk away so much quicker under the realisation that I has not worked, it will not work. Often pretentiously so. To put it bluntly we dont take shit anymore. We just tell the next person to jog on knowing that we are on miles 3 of 26 and that we are undoubtedly going to be passed by the next runner. Funny that really...a sad truism and lesson learnt I feel. I feel I have done exactly that, perhaps wrongly. I think one of the biggest lessons I have learnt, apart from to appreciate the small things in life, is to accept the decisions you make in life. I think I knew that one from the start, what I never envisaged is that in fact the decisions that I make, might be wrong. The lesson is thus you have to accept the decisions you make in life, especially the wrong ones. An important distinction. As for now I have exactly 103 days (just under 15 weeks) not that in counting at all, until Canada. I have talked to a few pepole about being out of love of which the most frequent response is often in reference to Canada. Typically there or there abouts 'oh your going to Canada soon'. Now, I will not doubt that is true. It is after all a fact I am leaving for a very very long and extensive time to a place far, far away. But what people often cannot see is that I am not in Canada now. May be I suck at the long term perspective, to be honest I always have. But right now, I have nothing apart from memories and future possibilities. A lonely place. A place I am learning to occupy...slowly. I accept that nothing is possible between now and august, but I have many I think I would like to do and say before I go; whether that materialises I am yet to conclude. A series of events recently, many of which actually not my own, but close people around me have made me realise the significance of a phrase that hangs up on my wall to this day and it will be something I carry all the way to the alter when I marry. Hopefully one day I will. "That one girl for you is getting there as fast as she can", the problem is you have absolutely no idea who, when and from what direction. What if it was someone you already met? strange thought. One thing is for sure is that I hope to prove my mother wrong. When I first told her about Canada, I expected her to be happy, instead she burst into tears and her exact first response is something I shall never forget in my life, it truly was one of those moments that imprints on your DNA. She said 'your going to find a canadian bird, marry her and never come back aren't you?'. No mother I wont. I'm not going to elope to Las Vegas on a weekend. I can promise you that. As for the canadian robin, well I hope so... The most profound thing I can say about how I feel right now is that I am learning something truly remarkable, and learning it extremely slowly. That is the ability to "live to love and not to love to live". Its an amazing truism in my life at the moment and something I accept I have found so so hard, even where most people find it a given and incredulously easy to apply in their lives. I admit I find it very awkward and hard, but as I said, I am learning, very slowly...

(5) fat and out of shape 'mcfatty indeed'
Yes, this is something I need to get out of my system. I accept the hypocracy in this section, in that usually a personal pet hate of mine is that I hate people who engross themselves and are obsessed with weight, particularly when they have none. But there is no doubt that I am bigger physically than I have ever been in my life. Simple. I do not mind the bulk out, in fact I think it does me better to be a little more filled out, but I feel fat and heavy. I have been frequenting the gym with mainly resistive work. In addition I am part of a strength training study here at Loughborough designed to test to types of protein supplements on the effect of bicep brachii growth and strength over a 9 week training period 3 times a week. Essentially working out on your arms with supplements. we are in week 5 (ish) and my arms genuinely are stronger and feel so so much bigger than ever before. Besides my arms the rest of my body feels sluggish. I feel tired all the time, the tiredness is probably a combination of bad sleeping patterns and poor dietry means. It worries me somewhat that I am tired so much, I regularly enjoy a visit to the sofa for a cheeky 1 hour nap, to the extent my housemates mock me for it. I worry that it could be something more serious that irregularity and dietary. It is now post-basketball season and I really want to start hitting the tarmac and get running in the off season. Its something I have grown to love and massively appreciate as a pursuit. I just need to get on with it.

(6) Closed & Conclusions...
So there you have it, pure, pure honesty. To be honest these are things I have wanted or tried (and often failed) to express in general and I felt this was one of the only ways I could say what I should say (sad really huh?), such is life sometimes. I did not intent is as self-loathing although many, I am sure will read it as such, but more of 'so whats going on in his mind right now?'. My blogs often consist of ideals and optimism, this was somewhat of a contrast accepted. But there is always two sides to every coin. Being able to express yourself, I think is something we struggle with massively as people and we should do our upmost to pursue such endeavours. I find that writing this is as much for the reader and self-reflection, it defrags my mind into bitesize and manageable chunks. For now I continue to ride this wave. I do have another blog in progress at the moment, a more carefully aryiculate piece rather than a giant rant. I am a single man as the title suggests and I write with that humility in mind

x9

Foxes & Hedgehogs

"The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing"

Archilochus (7th-century b.c.e.)

I was sitting in my living room one afternoon about a month ago when my housemate commented in his own witty yet mockingly (Italian) manner said to me 'mat, you should blog about this!'. I took a glance and smiled at the gesture and thought nothing of it, as it was something not unusual after all our friendships, like any good friendships are a blend of truth and mockery. I had not given his gesture a second thought until this evening. The thought of... hedgehogs, yes hedgehogs... once again came my mind and true to the suggestion made by my housemate over a month ago. So here I am calling his very bluff with a blog loosely based the subject in question. It is indeed about hedgehogs, and once again a metaphor as an interesting idea human behaviour. I wont say explanation, I don't believe you can really ever fully explain behaviour. I don't pretend to pursue such things. Rather its a nice journey of though provocation to make you consider you and possible people around you in a different way

I have been reading about a concept/theory entitled 'A Hedgehog Theory of Behaviour', not to be confused with the original suggested subject of the 'Hedgehogs Dilemma', a concept which I found to be highly interesting and thought provoking. Clearly my housemates know me well in many respects. The theories analogy supposedly stems from the Greek poet Archilochus who's fragment prose suggest that:

The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing.

Archilochus (7th-century b.c.e.)

We as people are characterized by one or the other. Take for example a fox. A fox moves and flutters about its work, scurrying around, hunting and gathering diligently. We all know these types of people, they are usually intelligent, highly strung, work religiously, trait anxiety, always highly wound, worrying about the next thing and the next thing and the next thing. These types of people make things happen and because of all these they often go far in life because they work repetitively hard over and over again.

On the other hand Hedgehogs are essentially one trick ponies. They have one move, the curl, but it is highly effective. They have a more more simplified existence in relative comparison to the fox.

These two personifications are also characterised by different ways of thinking. The fox pertains a sense of reality and existence which it accepts and engulfs into its thinking processes. The world to a fox is a series of complexities built up from a number of schema all interwoven, interconnected. It is the pursuit of the fox to identify all the intricacies ribboned into the fabric of life. These type of thinkers are bar raisers, they knowledge on, inch by inch, step by step and graft information out of every nook and cranny of the methods at their disposal. The hedgehog on the other hand thinks far more simply and as such is able to develop a simplistic version of the world which not only that satisfiable but its simplicity is one of significant grandeur eloquence and beauty. They are the big thinkers of this world, those who's tricks change the world and redefine the bar. The obvious include Einstein, Newton, Crick and Watson and so on. There is a nice truth in these metaphoric distinctions. I know many-a-people who would be classified neatly. I for one certainly classify myself as the former, I am a scatty, spontaneous thinker (if you haven't already figured).

The interest and significance of this distinction manifests itself in a whole host of ways. Consider this, the development of the world wide web and our online generation to date. I've heard it been described as the 'LOL generation'. The web has developed and evolved our way of thinking and processing information. Whereas once information was channeled through clearly defined means such a a newspaper broadsheet, a radio station or later the television. Now the web opens an array of means through a myriad of schema and possible sources. Anyone, anywhere can add their own bit of knowledge or data to the great server of life. This blog being a stellar illustration of such. Such shifts in communication has arguably led from an otherwise 'hedgehog' society to a 'fox like' endeavour. We scurry and skim through a vast array of information taking in a montage and snippets of information. We have shortened attention spans, lower levels of concentration on a single source. In fact I recall a very interesting documentary I watched on I-Player if any of you wonder why you are compelled to 3 hours of facebook per day. This documentary will give you some idea as to why. Its entitled 'the virtual revolution'. The interesting point threaded throughout this idea is whether or not such a change in type of thinking is a good thing. In a world were we no longer write with a pen but rather with a click of the mouse many argue that what you cause is poor hand writing, illiteracy, reliance on the all so easy 'spell checker' and consequently poor spelling and grammar usage. Whilst I agree to some extent to some these claims, one most consider the flip side of the coin. What we now have is a generation of individuals able to produce a level of professionalism through office software that is unprecedented. You have a computer 'literate' generation who can makes things happen not over hours but in an instant. Biro's have been replaced with cursors, white boards are replaced with facebook wall posts. We have a generation who can communicate globally, instantaneously. The change to a fox like manner, although seemingly a fear for most actually constitutes a mere evolution of thinking. To come back to the preference/complexity diagram, you have a generation who is attempting to minimize the level of complexity by naturally filtering irrelevant information in an attempt to simply the vast amount of information available. Arguably this process is necessary to produce something close to this idea of 'optimal complexity'. In other words this apparent 'disinterest' in information rather paradoxically produces are optimal level of preference to a given field or subject matter. Whether or not you think this Marxist macro-theory of subversive revolution is true, I leave entirely open to debate. I think you cannot ignore the trends and data that is blindly obvious, and I accept that indeed the world is changing. At current I see these changes as entirely neutral in consequence. They are neither good or bad, rather..just different. Any judgements on their morality I feel would be entirely speculative. On the one hand to say that they are a bad thing is entirely cynical and to say they are positive represents conformity to a naive standpoint.

Moreover consider the implications in a more specific learning situation. Take studying a topic area for your next series of exams coming up in June. The lecturer you are first presented with are the basic skeleton of ideas being thrown at you by your lecture. You passively sit and take in knowledge as only the hedgehog knows best in its most simplistic form. The feeling of the unknown and incomprehension means your preference for a particular given situation is limited. We all get bored in lectures, even if you walk out of it thinking 'that was a really good lecture'. Perhaps the reason that is true is that, as you leave the lecture hall, you express a preference and complexity level closer to the optimum. Once you have that knowledge initially passed on, you then go through (or not, which is the case for me) the readings of that lecture and the topic area. You again develop understanding of the area, you build on the knowledge you first were lecturer on. The information you learn is more sophisticated and detailed than your last encounter. After such you ignore and forget about that particular subject area and move on to the next, via the bar for a few beverages of course. You then start to repetitively drive the knowledge home through revision, of which you preference starts to decline, you know feel you are in over kill and going down the some journey again and again. You are sick of the material presented in front of you, but you have now choice for the exam. Your preference declines and as you read and develop your knowledge around the idea you again increase the complexity. It is then the cold realisation hits you that your once hedgehog like approach has been magically transformed to a fox like 'flurry of information'. This point is illustrated below:


(http://www.psywww.com/intropsych/ch09_motivation/complexity_and_preference_a_hedgehog_theory.html)

This hedgehog-fox analogy fits for an extensive array of examples. I have only scratched the surface of plausible applications with illustrations from both studying a module to the change in Internet usage. The list is my no means infinite, and I am sure you can think of an array of other possible avenues for exploration with a plethora of ways. I think its a highly thought provoking concept, which is relatively straight forward to understand.

I ask you again, after all this, which animal are you? A hedgehog or a fox? What are the implications being on or the other in how you think and act?

Just a thought...

x9

The Louvre

Sometimes life goes the way you want it to, sometimes it doesnt. Sometimes the monotony and repetition of life is such you cant help but feel tired and worn down from it and somehow life just seems a drowsy and grey. Sometimes life is as confusing and akin to monkey with a tutu and a gun on and rampage with methadrone on a drip ?! (...you get my point). I find the older you get and the more and more 'supposively wiser' you get you realise that some of the first things your ever taught are the truest. I dont mean your ABCs or CAT, DOG or DAD, I mean the truisms and old sayings, that often old sayings which my mother told me over and over again like 'pot calling the kettle black', 'I want never gets', 'life is what you make it' and so on. Now I find myself a wanting, hypocratic life junkie....great ha. The subject of this blog is the latter saying of 'life is what you make it'. It is so so true. When you hear that phrase or perhaps say it to yourself, you assume, quite rightly in many ways its meaning refers to going out professionally and making something of yourself, get a good job, have a successful career and so on. That is what I would typically read it as, and I think it would be fair to do so. But if you think about it, it is so much more than that. Life is what you make it is so so many ways. Life is what you make it with everything. literally anything. I think to have that phrase in the back of your mind in everything you do, its a powerful way to think. This blog, like many was prompted by events in my life, some quite significant and some entirely insignificant. For example, I was out at Loughborough union yesterday, waiting in a que. I noticed around me was a rather unusual, significantly larger distribution of superheros...yes surperheros (alarm bells struck at the obvious and imminent event of freshers from falk-egg). Of which I turned around to one in close proximity and asked 'oh, so what is your super power then?' of which she rather unexpectedly replied 'I have the superpower of optimism'. I was rather taken back by that comment, I thought it was genius.

If you ever get a chance to do something that you feel is perhaps out your comfort zone, something which is challenging, something unusual. Just do it. Be comfortable with the uncomfortable (hopwood, 2009). Life really, really is just too short. It is those things which in the end define who you are. They shape and mold you into someone, they fill the void of ignorance. We all start with a blank canvas in life, and it is purely, us and us alone that paints the picture in our own style, feeling and finish. In 2006 I sat in a pub with a very good friend of mine and discussed the possibility of really doing something. Something we considered big. He threw a couple of ideas across the table, one of which was to cycle a long way. By the following week we had begun planning to cycle through France, Calais to Marsailles, and that summer we did exactly that, all 660 painstaking miles. Just a phenomenal experience, I have never felt so free and never felt so amazing in the most purest way possible and yet I had never been through something of such endeavor.

The consequence of this, was that my friend and I then both went off to university. Myself to Loughborough and him to Oxford. In 2008 he was talking to a group of friends at Oxford, of which later transpired and developed into them wanting to cycle London to Paris. He then invited me and another friend to join. That summer 8 of us put two wheels to the road and yet again I found myself cycling through rural france. We I began that cycle, I knew two people. After going through something like that with anyone, you soon grow attached and close to those around you, and I found that. I look back at those times, countless times, countless experiences sitting on a rail in Canterbury, in a fountain at Dover, on top of a shed (after a hill of death), the soggy/diseased dog, ping-pong every single one I look back and remember so very vividly and the people who I went through that with I reflect back so fondly. That week, led me to meet someone who changed my life forever, and will continue to do so undoubtedly. I met Dougal, of whom I dated for just over a year and a half. No words would ever do justice to the story of france and the events that followed and the experiences I had. This blog could try, and it would fail. But this blog, like the Louvre, to me it a symbol and snippet of something I find absolutely beautiful and amazing. That is the power of an idea. All of this, all of what I have just described came from an idea, that I with a friend followed. I would not be who I am, or where I am today without that one decision. That one choice, and for that I could not say and convince you enough that you should always follow your ideas, follow your instinct and how you feel, because without it you only miss out on really what should of been, good or bad. No matter the consequences of events, you reflect back on them and you cant help but think that it was the most amazing thing yo happen to me and you are so glad life took you down that path. I for one, would do it all over again given a split second chance....

Whats all the fuss ABOOUT?

Preface

131 days exactly until I leave to canada ! Yes I have a countdown chart at home now, sad but awesome! Here is a little update on my great alberta adventure, its all I ever think about at the moment, so I figured a little blogging therapy would hopefully do more good them harm (a judgment i reserve until I have finished). A couple of developments have occurred since I last blogged about canada I thought I would tell you with a little (and albeit rather lame story).

Chapter 1- Spilling the beans to Mother Goose:
I told my mother about the whole thing! wow, that was an interesting lunch. I came back from Loughborough just before Easter break and arranged a lunch catch up with the family (mother, brother and me) at the local pub. I told her her that my plans had been realised and that I had been given an offer, and that I really wanted to go. Much to my surprise (perhaps in a naive way on my account) she burst into tears and solitary silence hit the table. A little awkward silence later she responded with yet again something I didn't expect 'you will find a canadian bird (yes bird, she used that word) and never come back!'. Wow. It was actually a heartfelt time and something I didn't expect, I thought the occasion would be a joyous one, yet the outcome was quite the other extreme. That weekend I dabbled around the idea with her, suggesting we talk about the logistics, which we did, but only briefly and still there remained a clear emotion recognition that she was still upset and/or in shock. I went back to Loughborough for three weeks before actually breaking up for Easter. I guess it was just as well, it gave her some time alone to mull the whole thing over. After that she has been increasingly supportive over the whole thing, perhaps in the understanding that it is truly something I really want to do and moreover I think for her to be involved has far more merit and likelihood of a mutual outcome if she is involved in decision-making. If you cant fight it, embrace it that seems her philosophy.

Chapter 2 - the processes with the mostesses :
I have booked my flight! I officially leave on the 24TH AUGUST and I have an induction day on the 25th august. I will be most likely staying ina youth hostel for just under a week until I get settled with a house. I will be flying out from gatwick on an A330 Thompson Cook flight btw. Please also note the usage of the word flight...not plural flight(S), it is in fact, at current a ONE WAY flight, under the decision that flights to and from canada at peak christmas times are seemingly notoriously expensive...of which I just cannot afford to pay a small G' to get back (although watch this space) if I can take a cargo plane back home for christmas, I wold consider it, although currently it looks very unlikely. I am trying to swing it, especially as I have my MSc graduation on the 20th December, so it would be nice to get back for that if I can as well. My mother brought my flight, which I was very appreciative of, not only in the act I simply just dont have £300 quid to buy one, but is a clear indication that she remains, and always will be the best mother in the entire world...fact, and yes in the words of Stewart Lee you really can prove anything with facts...fact! In the mean time I have gone through the EXTREMELY bureaucratic procedure that constitutes a study permit aka VISA. I guess if there is is any more of a cliche and quintessential illustration of bureaucracy it would be the one and only visa wouldn't it. Well the high commission of Canadian held faithful to that assumption, and ive filled in enough forms to constitute a small survey sample population, along with enough photocopying to feel directly responsible for amazonian tree felling. I should get a definitive answer on the VISA within the next 5 weeks now, I left plenty of time because I knew the turn around time of these things equates to the turning of an entire oil tanker with a 5 mile turning circle. I have also realised a series of other things have propped up that needs to be dealt with. Issues like, my car (which I will more than likely sell- do u want a car btw?), my car insurance, my phone; which will have to come of contract and ill have a pay as you go in England, and get another out there. Bank accounts is another issue, Ill have to set up an account as soon as I physically get there. Clearly people can't just get up and leave. guess it makes sense. It just puts it into perspective when you think about changing everything that you really take from granted at the moment, like a mobile, like a car. It will all change, everything will certainly change, and hopefully for the better.


Chapter 3 - Iva(ultion) :
Iva is my newly acquire acquaintance of whom is a second year phd student at the University of Alberta and is under the direct supervision of the same supervisor, the already legendary Marvin Washington.In essence she is my peer and elder self. She was a sports management masters student like I am, and she has been a real comfort to me already. I have bombarded her with a fair few questions about Canada and I have got to know a little about her. It has been really nice to have someone to speak to on a personal level about the whole thing, I get to check out photos and find out what is going on in Edmonton. She seems really awesome and I am sure ill get to know her more once I get out there and find my feet. I just thought she deserved a mention, as really she has been really friendly, reassuring and just a little saint over everything.

Chapter 4 - Enrollment:
I can officially start enrolling on some courses as of the 23rd of April. I have been scrolling through the various (and various indeed!) courses they offer within the physical education and recreation department there. Although they assumed I had not done any research as part of my MSc (which is simply not true), they have required me to go on a couple of research courses PERLS 401 (physical education and recreation leisure studies) and PEDS (physical education studies) 330. I think it will be good to refresh on research methods, and you realise you never really know enough, so I think it will be hugely beneficial. I was scrolling through the list of modules you could take and in particular noted the undergraduate section. Within that section was a module entitled....and I pause for added emphasis and utter amusement...management of ice hockey. yyyeeeeaaaah ha, unbelievable, it exists, it happens, god they really, really and truly obsessed with ice hockey. amazing. I laughed when I saw it, and might have to sit in on it at least once...if just for amusement if nothing else. But genuinely, I am very excited about receiving lectures from new academics, who will inevitably have new and different ideas, it will be intriguing and I look forward to it. My first year will be just taking courses and starting out, getting used to the system, learning about the system. I start my actual thesis the year after. should be amazing.

Chapter 5- a new perspective directive:
By the way, I have decided, in similar 5th november fashion to develop a list of things to do before I go, they have to be 'typically british' things. Currently I have: eat a roast dinner, have a pint at the pickerel inn, and go watch a game of football with a pukka pie. Any more suggestions for the list? One thing that I have noticed recently, and it has been particularly true whilst back in Cambridge, is how much I have begun to appreciate the smaller things in life. I appreciate Cambridge more than I ever have, I have appreciated the small very finite time I have spent with my close friends recently knowing fully well that this is probably my last true Easter or true summer. It is a compelling feeling which right now drives me to do a lot myself right now. If you around in either Easter or summer please call, lets meet, lets grab coffee, I guarantee you there are few who will appreciate it more than me right now :)

I also promise once in Canada I will blog very frequently to let know know of my adventure, I hope you will continue you read...


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Barn Owls

Barn Owls: 'The scientific name comes from the Greek word tyto, which refers to an owl, and alba, the Latin word for white. The common name refers to the owl’s use of man-made structures, like barns, as roosts and nest sites'



I wouldn't describe myself as particularly materialistic person, for example I have yet to conform to the i-pod generation or the bombardment of blackberry's, my dress sense always compromises between what I think looks good to my target audience but an equal consideration to what I find comfortable, rather than what is fashionable. I do not shop at M&S and my weekly food shopping generally IS just 'that any food' that M&S likes to shoot down as inferior to their own. My car [barely] gets me from A to B, its not german, nor does it have vorsprung technik (and I am blissfully naive in the fact I have no idea what that means), nor does it have any je ne se quoi or va va voom. This blog is about something for all intents and purposes would be seen as materialistic, but it is my intention to argue quiet the opposite, and hopefully by the time we are done writing and you reading this blog you will be convinced that this is not a case of materialism, but something far more meaningful, something touching, something beautiful and a quinessential example of the beauty of life. I will talk to you about something very personal and profound to me and my family, im sure for many generations to come, and as the title suggests, I am writing about my beautiful beautiful abobe, the Oldfield Farm Barn.

Throughout my life I have always been fortunate enough to even have a roof under my head (something we all massively take for granted in life). I have constantly moved back and forth within the Cambridgeshire area. I have moved over 6 times already, which is 5 more than most people will ever do in their lifetime. On the other hand I am sure there are those who move far more frequently that I have. But the feeling is still the same, if you move, or even have the mentality of someone who moves, finding somewhere or more precisely someplace you actually call 'home' is very hard. I have always seen home as somewhere you put your head down, somewhere you keep all your junk, somewhere you recover and go out and crack on with the rest of your life. I have lived many shape and size bedrooms, some enough to place band practice and some barely big enough to fit your guitar. 'Home' to me traditonally been a fluid concept that moves as much as I did. This is not to say that this is a bad thing, in fact I rather appreciated the change of scenery, I liked moving, it allowed for new starts, new ideas, new places, new running routes, new cycling routes, new shops, and ultimately new places to explore. But the con is that happiness you feel when you just feel entirely...well, settled. Your actual 'somewhere' you can just go to relax and feel 'yesss...uuuuuuh'. That is a feeling like is priceless and amazing.


Moving houses was a game of often a akin to a game of monopoly for my family and a way of developing, and moving up the property ladder, so to speak. Of course driven entirely by the banker, my mother. My mother is a very intelligent women, of whom I have the up most love and respect for, in addition she is also I very shrewd business woman ( a trait I am learning...slowly). It was then my mother decided that she wanted to built her dream. A dream that I took a long time to understand and am only just beginning to understand to be honest. Over two years ago she saw an 100 year old, run down, barn which was used by a farm for storage and cattle and saw something truly beautiful. Through a series of not so fun family issues, my auntie (mums sister) divorced her then husband and wanted to move out. They say that when one door closes another opens, and this holds perfectly here. A perfect opportunity presented itself, and my mother and aunt started building a new life...in perfect parallel, together. Over the two years you could see the walls coming down and the two of them getting on better than they ever have done, and they understood one another always with the others best interests at heart. When the barns construction began, my mother and auntie oversaw the whole thing. My uncle and his son (my cousin) would so coincidentally happen to be builders and so took on the project guaranteeing at least two years of work, they did most of the construction work, with anything specific such as electrics or roofing done through specialists. The first summer, nearly two years ago now, during the first phase: demolition. I was fortunate enough to spend the whole summer working on the barn. I spent the first week with my younger cousin pull off roofing slates, and the subsequent weeks, we pulled down the double layered white bricks of the barn and restored them and 'cleaned' them with a a rock hammer (the male version of cleaning it seems).



My cousin and I with molegrips in hand -------------------------------------------->
(taking off the roof slates)



These bricks were then used to built the barn once more...just better than it was before (basically). I came back the following spring to build the giant GIANT oak framework, that made up the skeleton of the barn. The days were hot and the sun was beaming, whilst myself, my uncle and my two cousins heaved tonnes of oak beams horizontally and vertically and slotted them into place like a giant jigsaw puzzle. It was strangely a beautiful time in my life and one I shall never forget. I have never worked so physically hard in my life. Coming back that summer I felt amazing, never felt as physically good than after that summer. I found the whole experience as something so detached from the posed pens between my fingers and the second home of the library, it was so liberating to just flip the coin in life for a while, and take a 'break' from my everyday life. I found it so incredibly amazing thing to know you helped in some small way in building your own house. You just appreciate it so so much more, even if is in the most insignificant way in comparison to others. I look around now as I sit and type and I think to myself I know how we built that. I know how that was made. For example, one particular day that springs to mind was the great 'concrete' day'. In one day we entirely concreted the floor of the main barn.I did a lot of wheelbarrowing that day, it was approx 16 tonnes of concrete wheelbarred by hand to provide the underpinning for the tiles my feet are perched on.Amazing to think about, its was an amazing feet to do that those summers ago.



Me lending a hand on the main barn roof ------------------------------------------>



So the barn progressed, and progressed. I had the rather privileged stand point as I would go to university and see the barn perhaps every 5 weeks or so. Progression for me was very obvious and apparent. I felt for my cousins, auntie and mother who saw everything quite literally every day, everything for them was in real time, and I watched the highlights so to speak. Mother took pictures of the whole thing, day by day. We finally moved in once we had sold our old house, moving boxes in and around builders, made cereal amidst the dust and tried to revise to the rhythmic sound of hammers and angle grinders. Now things move even slowly than they ever did, with a picture frame up here, and a plant pot there. But for the first time... I sit and look around me with a content feeling, a feeling that I have never really felt before, the feeling of ....home. My mother, brother and I often joke about this house being what we call the 'forever house'. The house of all houses. Its an amazing feeling to be apart of something so much bigger than yourself. I am but one of many who now live here, and I am a part-timer, but we are all family, and we are all together. There is something truly beautiful and comforting in the fact that you know people who genuinely care for you, are a literally a step away. For those who have not seen this place, its an incredible feeling, you look around and see a house not built for the sake of being built, but something built with emotion. Built with more than just necessity, more than minimal limitation.The beautiful texture of the oak, the lighting, the showers, the fireplaces, the space....this place has little in the way of limitation and more in the form of personality and creativity. It has tasteful modernization with something houses often lack, a sense of belonging, history and tradition. What I sit in now is something that will last generations. I cant think of any place more beautiful to raise my children, and my children's children. To me that is the most beautiful and heartfelt compliment I can ever say.


I know that my life will soon me something far far detached from what it is today, and Canada will be a whole new world, a new culture, a new life. I will make alberta my new home. The thought of it makes me so excited. Yet I know that I shall and can never detach myself from here. From what really constitutes home. I love cambridge, and I am forever attached like a barn owl to this place. For those who know me well and/or have seen this place I hope this gives you a small snapshot how it makes me feel and why I talk about it so fondly. For those who don't, I wanted to share something I find truly beautiful and something that truly makes me happy, for so many reasons other than the bricks and mortar. Its a great and beautiful story and I feel privileged to have the opportunity to share it...

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Independence Day [my 4th July !]...

Independence. Independence, like many ideas in life, I thought I understood. It is only when you get older , your experience things, you experience people and all that culminates into a realisation of how little you really know and how little you really understood. I guess Shakespeare's proverb holds water in this case, in that:

'A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool'

You LikeIt. Act 5:Scene 1

I ask you a simple introspective question of: how independent are you?... I give it a second, and then ask you to think again, how independent are you, really? We all love the idea and rhetoric that we are in fact independent. Independent from what? Independence from your family? well, for those who are at university then you feel moving to a new place, with new people, no longer relying on your mother to cook for you. Is that independence? Its a form of I will agree. The notion of independence also sits neatly with positivity. we like the idea that we are or could be independent. Its a positive trait...is it? Too often than not I see people who consider or view themselves and quote unquote independent. Free men they say! well... yeh... cool mate. I can perfectly understand that view point, and it is one I used to take. After all our teenage and adolescent years were all about establishing such a thing. It was the golden years of rebellion, of pushing away those who control you.

My view on independence is that its something far more fluid than a simple, I am or I am not. Dependence more often than not, just shifts. Back to the university example, dependence arguably has simply shifted from your close family, to the government paying for your tuition fees. The institution you study at becomes your new mother, and the peers around, your housemates, become a myriad of dependent connections. Independence isn't established at all. Dependence is dissolved amongst a large series of partnerships giving the illusion of independence. Independence used to be something I sought after. Now I consider it an undesirable outcome in many respects but a necessity in others. Recent events in my life have thrown my independence into perspective. I have realised that I had put my eggs into one basket so to speak. Despite my youthful intentions, I had become all too dependent on a small number of entities, people mainly. It took someone with a considerable level of dissolved dependencies for me to realise that I should revert back to that idea of 'independence'. Canada, good friends, and a series of events have lead me back to an exciting time in my life whereby the status quo is questioned, and once again life asks 'what do you really stand for, and what do you want'. Of which the answer is one I still find unnatural...independence. I feel in many respects I have constantly tried to grow up faster than I ever should have done. I take life too seriously at times, so here is a testament to a new dowling. A dowling a bit more like dowlings have historically been rather than 'should be'. I feel a little regression is on order and to revert back to that great pursuit of something I thought I understood, but now realise I know nothing about. Its time for an adolescent mind I feel, a bit of fun, roll on the good times and once again pursue independence...

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