Announcing the new Barnflakes website, which now concentrates on my design work. I hadn't updated the old barnflakes.com for at least five years and have been meaning to make it look vaguely professional for almost as long. Hence, you may have noticed, the non-work stuff (ALTON BLUES, T.E.A. THEORY, BARNACLES, BARGAINS and BARNFACTS) has now been transferred to pages on this blog (see just below the masthead) enabling barnflakes.com to consist entirely of my graphic design work. It's a bit of a premature announcement as I've really only just started it but wanted to get it underway before 2016 (and get rid of the dreadful old site). Lots more to add in the next few weeks. Enjoy. But not too much.
My old portfolio site, barnoffeepie.blogspot.com is also now defunct. Blogger has the most old-fashioned looking blog templates on the web (and even its spell checker doesn't recognise the word 'blog'), but I'm stuck with this one: I'm not even going to attempt to move ten years (yes, next year this blog is ten years old) worth of posts (784 to be exact) to another site. I'll attempt to write more next year, too.
Happy New Year folks.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Thursday, December 24, 2015
Top ten films of 2015
1. Star Wars: The Force Awakens
2. Carol
3. It Follows
4. A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night
5. Hard To Be A God
6. The Falling
7. Whiplash
8. The Duke of Burgundy
9. When We're Young
10. The Tribe
Merry Christmas folks.
2. Carol
3. It Follows
4. A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night
5. Hard To Be A God
6. The Falling
7. Whiplash
8. The Duke of Burgundy
9. When We're Young
10. The Tribe
Merry Christmas folks.
Tuesday, December 01, 2015
Top ten photographers
William Eggleston, from the book William Eggleston's Guide
1. Henri Cartier-Bresson
2. William Eggleston
3. Robert Frank
4. Walker Evans
5. Bill Brandt
6. Garry Winogrand
7. Diane Arbus
8. Martin Parr
9. Don McCullin
10. Guy Bourdin
Friday, November 20, 2015
Future tense
Disney has announced that if you were alive to watch the first Star Wars film in 1977 (like I was) – then you probably won't be around to watch all the planned future instalments. In their words, "You will probably not live to see the last one. It's the forever franchise".
The thing about death I'm most afraid of is all the things I'm going to miss out on – not especially just the big news, the toppling of governments or what my daughter's children's children will be like – but the important stuff, like the outcome of the Star Wars franchise or what Bob Dylan's Bootleg Series Volume 74 will consist of (Volume 12 has just come out) or what features the iPhone 27 will have. The world just continues on its axis despite us; stuff happens, life goes on, regardless of death. I'd like the option to pop in on life every hundred years, flick through a newspaper, watch a bit of TV. My guess is it will just get crapper and crapper, that's the way it's been going for a while (culturally, environmentally, politically). I guess when you're dead though, you probably don't care much about anything.
But the future is notoriously hard to predict: we had Back to the Future day last month: October 21, 2015 being the day Marty and 'Doc' arrived from 1985. Whilst it got some things right (flat screen TVs, tablets), it got a lot wrong – fax machines were still being used (and there was no internet), and there's still no hover boards or flying cars, though our skies will doubtless be filling up with drones in the near future. That's the thing about the future, it's always tantalisingly out of reach, until it arrives, then it's just like any other day.
The next big future to look forward to is Blade Runner, set in November 2019. It must have looked an impossible date in 1982 but now it's just round the corner (Luc Besson was wise to set The Fifth Element in the 23rd century) and there's still no sign of those 'spinners' (flying cars) or attractive yet deadly replicants. More on the mark, perhaps, was Rollerball (1975), set in an America of 2018 where global corporations perform the role of government (and libraries have no books!).
Released in 2013 and set in 2025, Spike Jones' Her is set so near in the future it's almost cheating – our ever-increasing reliance on technology is a pretty obvious outcome. Yet Joaquin Phoenix's depiction of a lonely guy falling in love with his operating system, voiced by Scarlett Johansson, is affecting and sensitive, and seems more prescient and inevitable almost every day.
Channel 4's recent Human series, their biggest drama hit in 20 years, was a mix of Her, The Stepford Wives and The Terminator. So badly acted that you weren't sure who were the robots and who were the humans, it stars Gemma Chan as 'synth' Anita employed by the Hawkins family to help around the house. With synths, submissive robots, doing the boring work humans don't want to do, the series is like an allegory for immigrants doing the boring work natives don't want to (and indeed, the synths do act like many a over-trained service industry worker) as well as the impact technology has on our personal lives.
In general, the future in films or TV is depicted as flying cars and robots or post-apolyptic dystopian gloom (Soylent Green is a personal 1970s favorite, set in a 2022 of pollution, overpopulation, dying oceans and depleted resources). Controversial French author Michel Houellebecq's latest novel Submission (the translation of the word Islam) is also set in the year 2022 and imagines a France which has elected a Muslim party government. It was released in France on 7 January this year (though not until September here), the day of the Charlie Hebdo massacre, and bookended by the recent Paris massacres to be top of many critic's best of year books. The future is always less scary when it's thousands of years away; when it's a few years ahead and on our doorsteps, it's a bit too real for comfort.
The BFI's 10 Great Films Set in the Next 25 Years
The thing about death I'm most afraid of is all the things I'm going to miss out on – not especially just the big news, the toppling of governments or what my daughter's children's children will be like – but the important stuff, like the outcome of the Star Wars franchise or what Bob Dylan's Bootleg Series Volume 74 will consist of (Volume 12 has just come out) or what features the iPhone 27 will have. The world just continues on its axis despite us; stuff happens, life goes on, regardless of death. I'd like the option to pop in on life every hundred years, flick through a newspaper, watch a bit of TV. My guess is it will just get crapper and crapper, that's the way it's been going for a while (culturally, environmentally, politically). I guess when you're dead though, you probably don't care much about anything.
But the future is notoriously hard to predict: we had Back to the Future day last month: October 21, 2015 being the day Marty and 'Doc' arrived from 1985. Whilst it got some things right (flat screen TVs, tablets), it got a lot wrong – fax machines were still being used (and there was no internet), and there's still no hover boards or flying cars, though our skies will doubtless be filling up with drones in the near future. That's the thing about the future, it's always tantalisingly out of reach, until it arrives, then it's just like any other day.
The next big future to look forward to is Blade Runner, set in November 2019. It must have looked an impossible date in 1982 but now it's just round the corner (Luc Besson was wise to set The Fifth Element in the 23rd century) and there's still no sign of those 'spinners' (flying cars) or attractive yet deadly replicants. More on the mark, perhaps, was Rollerball (1975), set in an America of 2018 where global corporations perform the role of government (and libraries have no books!).
Released in 2013 and set in 2025, Spike Jones' Her is set so near in the future it's almost cheating – our ever-increasing reliance on technology is a pretty obvious outcome. Yet Joaquin Phoenix's depiction of a lonely guy falling in love with his operating system, voiced by Scarlett Johansson, is affecting and sensitive, and seems more prescient and inevitable almost every day.
Channel 4's recent Human series, their biggest drama hit in 20 years, was a mix of Her, The Stepford Wives and The Terminator. So badly acted that you weren't sure who were the robots and who were the humans, it stars Gemma Chan as 'synth' Anita employed by the Hawkins family to help around the house. With synths, submissive robots, doing the boring work humans don't want to do, the series is like an allegory for immigrants doing the boring work natives don't want to (and indeed, the synths do act like many a over-trained service industry worker) as well as the impact technology has on our personal lives.
In general, the future in films or TV is depicted as flying cars and robots or post-apolyptic dystopian gloom (Soylent Green is a personal 1970s favorite, set in a 2022 of pollution, overpopulation, dying oceans and depleted resources). Controversial French author Michel Houellebecq's latest novel Submission (the translation of the word Islam) is also set in the year 2022 and imagines a France which has elected a Muslim party government. It was released in France on 7 January this year (though not until September here), the day of the Charlie Hebdo massacre, and bookended by the recent Paris massacres to be top of many critic's best of year books. The future is always less scary when it's thousands of years away; when it's a few years ahead and on our doorsteps, it's a bit too real for comfort.
The BFI's 10 Great Films Set in the Next 25 Years
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Overheard #10
"Do all butterflies taste of pancakes?"
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"I went from being off-piste to pissed off"
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"You're a porn again Christian"
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"Josh just bought some brioche"
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"Remember there's no 'i' in busking"
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"There should be a war on peanuts"
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"Did Virginia Woolf drown at Virginia Water?"
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"If you shut up, I'd listen to you more"
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"Tim Rice and Tim Curry should do a collab
on a Rice and Curry musical"
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"Tim Rice and Tim Curry should do a collab
on a Rice and Curry musical"
FYI – I was doing this way before Time Out magazine.
Friday, September 18, 2015
Top ten Marthas in music
1. 'Martha' by Tom Waits
2. 'Martha My Dear' by The Beatles
3. "Ring them bells sweet Martha", lyrics from 'Ring them Bells' by Bob Dylan
4. Martha Wainwright
5. Martha Reeves And The Vandellas
6. 'Martha's Harbour' by All About Eve
7. Martha and the Muffins
8. Martha Tilston
9. 'Martha's Song' by Deep Forest
10. 'Mostly Martha' by the Crew-Cuts
For Martha, naturally.
2. 'Martha My Dear' by The Beatles
3. "Ring them bells sweet Martha", lyrics from 'Ring them Bells' by Bob Dylan
4. Martha Wainwright
5. Martha Reeves And The Vandellas
6. 'Martha's Harbour' by All About Eve
7. Martha and the Muffins
8. Martha Tilston
9. 'Martha's Song' by Deep Forest
10. 'Mostly Martha' by the Crew-Cuts
For Martha, naturally.
Monday, September 07, 2015
London through its charity shops #27: Penge, SE20
Penge sounds like the kind of place you've vaguely heard of, but don't know where it is and never want to go there anyway but off the rather ugly High Street – which is nonetheless quite well served by a combination of chain shops (a handy Homebase and a Lidl) and independents – are fine Victorian terraced houses and cute Alms cottages. Even on the High Street are the fabulous Gothic Royal Waterman's Almshouses and possibly the oldest Police station in London, a lovely Victorian building now being turned into flats.
More to the point, there are some good charity shops. Coming out of the bottom of Crystal Palace Park (a stone's throw away from the dinosaurs) and emerging onto Penge High Street, the first charity shop going down the hill is Little Ones Charity, small but full, with stuff spilling out onto the pavement. Lots of children's books and games, crockery, women's clothes, some records, CDs (including Sandy Denny and Richard Thompson) and books (I flicked through a small book of Robert Mapplethorpe's flowers).
Further down, on Maple Road off the High Street, is a Salvation Army Charity Shop and Coffee Shop. I've never seen them open, though apparently they are Monday to Friday and til midday on Saturday.
Back on the High Street and opposite Waterman's Almshouses is a Scope, spacious and selling furniture but a bit shabby. Plenty of tacky ornaments. Next door is a typical British Heart Foundation – squashed but high quality. Lots of women's shoes, decent CDs (Disclosure, Beck, Fleet Foxes) and books.
Slightly further along on the other side of the road is a well-presented British Red Cross with good CDs and DVDs. A few doors along, the St Christopher's Hospice is like a labyrinth of books, bric-a-brac, games, clothes and mixed media (haven't heard that term since 1994 have you?). Further along, just before the wilderness, is Aldlife Charity Shop, our final charity shop stop in Penge. It has loads of everything – shelves of books, piles of CDs and records, lots of kids stuff and bric-a-brac.
Penge may have an end of the world ambiance and be home to some shockingly awful looking people but it has a fairly interesting history. Nearby Beckenham-born boy Bowie included Penge in the lyrics to his 1967 song Love You Till Tuesday: 'You can walk around in New York while you sleep in Penge.' Bill Wyman was actually born there and the painter Pissarro lived there. Wikipedia says it was a fashionable district in the 19th century and had a spate of notorious murders in the 1870s.
More to the point, there are some good charity shops. Coming out of the bottom of Crystal Palace Park (a stone's throw away from the dinosaurs) and emerging onto Penge High Street, the first charity shop going down the hill is Little Ones Charity, small but full, with stuff spilling out onto the pavement. Lots of children's books and games, crockery, women's clothes, some records, CDs (including Sandy Denny and Richard Thompson) and books (I flicked through a small book of Robert Mapplethorpe's flowers).
Further down, on Maple Road off the High Street, is a Salvation Army Charity Shop and Coffee Shop. I've never seen them open, though apparently they are Monday to Friday and til midday on Saturday.
Back on the High Street and opposite Waterman's Almshouses is a Scope, spacious and selling furniture but a bit shabby. Plenty of tacky ornaments. Next door is a typical British Heart Foundation – squashed but high quality. Lots of women's shoes, decent CDs (Disclosure, Beck, Fleet Foxes) and books.
Slightly further along on the other side of the road is a well-presented British Red Cross with good CDs and DVDs. A few doors along, the St Christopher's Hospice is like a labyrinth of books, bric-a-brac, games, clothes and mixed media (haven't heard that term since 1994 have you?). Further along, just before the wilderness, is Aldlife Charity Shop, our final charity shop stop in Penge. It has loads of everything – shelves of books, piles of CDs and records, lots of kids stuff and bric-a-brac.
Penge may have an end of the world ambiance and be home to some shockingly awful looking people but it has a fairly interesting history. Nearby Beckenham-born boy Bowie included Penge in the lyrics to his 1967 song Love You Till Tuesday: 'You can walk around in New York while you sleep in Penge.' Bill Wyman was actually born there and the painter Pissarro lived there. Wikipedia says it was a fashionable district in the 19th century and had a spate of notorious murders in the 1870s.
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Growing old gracefully
We worship the cult of youth and beauty at the expense of character and depth but it's interesting to notice actors (or indeed, just regular people) who have aged well (without plastic surgery) and look better now than in their youth. There are plenty (and yes, it does seem to be men more than women – I guess men acquire dignity and character which they may lack when younger). Or maybe it's just they looked bad at the time because of the awful fashions and haircuts.
I was reminded of this when watching two specific actors – Sam Neil and William Devane. I don't know, when they were young, they looked pretty terrible; Sam Neil was bland and William Devane looked cheesy and always had a shit-eating grin on his face.
Contrast Sam Neil in Possession (a bizarre cult horror film from 1981) and the Tudors (2007-2010), where he plays Cardinal Thomas Wolsey. In the 1980s, anything William Devane was in was pretty tacky but fast forward to 24 (2005-2007), where he plays President of the United States and Interstellar (2014), which he's in for about thirty seconds. Both actors acquired gravitas, partly to do with the roles – you couldn't have a 20 year old playing the President or a Cardinal, but still, it just looks like they've not only matured in age but in ability too, and seem comfortable in their bodies.
Even Paul Giamatti, not exactly leading man material in 2010's Sideways (though he does get the girl) but by San Andreas (2015), playing a seismologist, he looks quite distinguished and far more attractive. Someone like Tom Cruise, on the other hand, looks basically the same as he did twenty years ago, and still appearing in the same crappy kind of films too. He lacks character, maturity and depth – and has never been in a great film (maybe Magnolia comes close). I would probably say the same of Brad Pitt too.
Creative people, whether it be actors, artists, writers, film directors or photographers, seem to work until they die. Most of us look forward to retiring (I have been since about the age of twenty one, when I probably wasn't actually working, but just had an inkling that to fast forward forty years and get to retirement would be bliss), work is something to do 9-5 five days a week, then switch off when not doing it, and count the days to retirement. But for creatives it's a way of life, a passion that lasts throughout their lives, no matter what their age.
Previously on Barnflakes:
The seasons of life
I was reminded of this when watching two specific actors – Sam Neil and William Devane. I don't know, when they were young, they looked pretty terrible; Sam Neil was bland and William Devane looked cheesy and always had a shit-eating grin on his face.
Contrast Sam Neil in Possession (a bizarre cult horror film from 1981) and the Tudors (2007-2010), where he plays Cardinal Thomas Wolsey. In the 1980s, anything William Devane was in was pretty tacky but fast forward to 24 (2005-2007), where he plays President of the United States and Interstellar (2014), which he's in for about thirty seconds. Both actors acquired gravitas, partly to do with the roles – you couldn't have a 20 year old playing the President or a Cardinal, but still, it just looks like they've not only matured in age but in ability too, and seem comfortable in their bodies.
Even Paul Giamatti, not exactly leading man material in 2010's Sideways (though he does get the girl) but by San Andreas (2015), playing a seismologist, he looks quite distinguished and far more attractive. Someone like Tom Cruise, on the other hand, looks basically the same as he did twenty years ago, and still appearing in the same crappy kind of films too. He lacks character, maturity and depth – and has never been in a great film (maybe Magnolia comes close). I would probably say the same of Brad Pitt too.
Creative people, whether it be actors, artists, writers, film directors or photographers, seem to work until they die. Most of us look forward to retiring (I have been since about the age of twenty one, when I probably wasn't actually working, but just had an inkling that to fast forward forty years and get to retirement would be bliss), work is something to do 9-5 five days a week, then switch off when not doing it, and count the days to retirement. But for creatives it's a way of life, a passion that lasts throughout their lives, no matter what their age.
Previously on Barnflakes:
The seasons of life
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
City Syndromes
There aren't many cities which have a syndrome named after them – Stockholm is probably the most well-known but there are a few others, including Helsinki, Lima, Oslo, Paris, Florence and Jerusalem. Going to any one of these cities made me think I'd automatically succumb to their syndromes – but I haven't so far. Stockholm syndrome is the phenomenon where victims of a crime, such as hostages in a robbery, express positive emotions towards their captors. The term comes from a bank robbery in Stockholm in 1973.
Less well known is the Helsinki syndrome, usually referred to when mistakenly meaning Stockholm syndrome, such as in the movie Die Hard, for example, and by Richard Hammond on Top Gear, but it actually originates from the Helsinki Accord of 1975, which attempted to thaw relations between the communist bloc and the west. It was non-binding. The syndrome alludes to a psychological lack of attention, for example if you'd run over a deer in your car but blocked out all memory of it (as it was too upsetting).
Other cities with syndromes sound like they're just getting on the city syndrome bandwagon: Lima syndrome, coined in 1996, is the opposite of Stockholm, so it's where the criminals feel sympathy for their hostages. Oslo syndrome posited the theory that Stockholm syndrome can be applied to an entire people – in the case of Kenneth Levin's 2005 book, The Oslo Syndrome: Delusions of a People Under Siege, it's the Arab-Israel conflict.
By the time we get to the Paris syndrome, things are getting odd: it's a delusional state which can occur whilst visiting the city. Affecting mainly Japanese tourists, it's apparently an extreme form of culture shock and is blamed on Japanese magazines which feature idealised images of Paris. Florence syndrome, or Stendhal's syndrome, is a similar occurrence, which can produce fainting and confusion when exposed to beauty and art, such as is found in the Italian city. Jerusalem syndrome involves psychotic decompensation when visiting the city.
In the news recently: there was a China syndrome of sorts the other day when the Chinese stock market suffered heavy losses. The term actually refers to a nuclear meltdown, from the somewhat outdated notion that the meltdown would go far down to the other side of the world (apparently, China). Also a fine 1979 thriller starring Jack Lemmon, Michael Douglas and Jane Fonda.
Less well known is the Helsinki syndrome, usually referred to when mistakenly meaning Stockholm syndrome, such as in the movie Die Hard, for example, and by Richard Hammond on Top Gear, but it actually originates from the Helsinki Accord of 1975, which attempted to thaw relations between the communist bloc and the west. It was non-binding. The syndrome alludes to a psychological lack of attention, for example if you'd run over a deer in your car but blocked out all memory of it (as it was too upsetting).
Other cities with syndromes sound like they're just getting on the city syndrome bandwagon: Lima syndrome, coined in 1996, is the opposite of Stockholm, so it's where the criminals feel sympathy for their hostages. Oslo syndrome posited the theory that Stockholm syndrome can be applied to an entire people – in the case of Kenneth Levin's 2005 book, The Oslo Syndrome: Delusions of a People Under Siege, it's the Arab-Israel conflict.
By the time we get to the Paris syndrome, things are getting odd: it's a delusional state which can occur whilst visiting the city. Affecting mainly Japanese tourists, it's apparently an extreme form of culture shock and is blamed on Japanese magazines which feature idealised images of Paris. Florence syndrome, or Stendhal's syndrome, is a similar occurrence, which can produce fainting and confusion when exposed to beauty and art, such as is found in the Italian city. Jerusalem syndrome involves psychotic decompensation when visiting the city.
Paris, Florence and Jerusalem are the only three syndromes that pertain to being in the actual city (and all involve the difference between the city of the imagination, and being unable to cope with the actual reality of the place); with the others it doesn't matter. For example,
you can suffer from Oslo syndrome in Jakarta and Stockholm syndrome
in London, as long as you get kidnapped, of course.
In the news recently: there was a China syndrome of sorts the other day when the Chinese stock market suffered heavy losses. The term actually refers to a nuclear meltdown, from the somewhat outdated notion that the meltdown would go far down to the other side of the world (apparently, China). Also a fine 1979 thriller starring Jack Lemmon, Michael Douglas and Jane Fonda.
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
A guide to photography for tourists
Stand directly in front of the building/object you are taking the photo of. Don't look at it except through the viewfinder/screen of your camera/phone. Be ruthless – obscure anyone else's view if necessary: your photos are more important than theirs. Take thirty photos of the same thing and move on. It is important not to look at what you are taking a photo of except through the screen. This was a recent experience of tourists in the Hermitage museum in St Petersburg (above, Leonardo's Madonna Litta, which may not even be painted by him). God, tourists are arrogant morons. Just buy a postcard! A photo of an object behind glass is never going to turn out well. Whilst I'm at it, tourists love using the flash, when, 1. They're not meant to (when there are No Flash! signs near a painting for example), or, 2. When it's going to ruin the photo (when it's of a reflective surface such as glass or when it's at night and they want to take photo of a cityscape, say). I often want to go over to them and tell them their photos are awful, if you're going to be compulsive about it, you may as well get to know some basics (don't zoom, flash is ugly, the golden rule of thirds etc). They're just oblivious.
Photography has pretty much always been an obsessive, cataloging thing, be it Bernd and Hilla Becher's industrial buildings and structures, Erwin Elliott's dogs, Walker Evans' shop fronts or, more recently, Stephen Zirwes' German public pools and Adrian Skenderovic's Down the river series.
But digital photography and social media have taken obsessive photography to a whole new level, where there's no need to look at anything anymore, just take a photo of it and upload it. The proof of having been there/done that is in the photo. It doesn't matter about the subject matter or the quality – the photo is the proof of existence. Where posting your breakfast on Instragram is the norm, the internet has made ordering, collating, curating and obsessing acceptable behaviour.
Previously on Barnflakes:
Lookalikes #26: Holiday adverts
A brief history of photography
Photography has pretty much always been an obsessive, cataloging thing, be it Bernd and Hilla Becher's industrial buildings and structures, Erwin Elliott's dogs, Walker Evans' shop fronts or, more recently, Stephen Zirwes' German public pools and Adrian Skenderovic's Down the river series.
But digital photography and social media have taken obsessive photography to a whole new level, where there's no need to look at anything anymore, just take a photo of it and upload it. The proof of having been there/done that is in the photo. It doesn't matter about the subject matter or the quality – the photo is the proof of existence. Where posting your breakfast on Instragram is the norm, the internet has made ordering, collating, curating and obsessing acceptable behaviour.
Previously on Barnflakes:
Lookalikes #26: Holiday adverts
A brief history of photography
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Contexts
The dumped chest of drawers covered in rubbish beside the council estate
bins was worthless, until it was taken home, cleaned, and flogged for
£150 at a vintage fair. The tack at the car boot sale was worth next to nothing,
until identical items appear in vintage shops in Columbian road, EC1,
then it becomes vintage, retro crap, I mean chic, and sells for ten times as much. What I'm getting at is that stuff is all about context. And people are all about context too.
My ex bemoans the fact that I (and my parents too actually) like seeing my daughter in context (ie where she lives, not just visiting me) but like seeing animals in a zoo as compared to seeing them in the wild, context is everything.
In a Ted Talk, educationist Ken Robinson talks about creativity in education. He argues that creativity is largely squeezed out of children at a young age in favour of maths, English and the sciences; he believes this is wrong – and cites the example of a now-famous ballet dancer who at school displayed signs of ADHD (this was before the term was invented, mind) and would have been wrongly diagnosed had it not been for an attentive teacher – who realised she just wanted to dance. She went on to start her own dance company and perform in such shows as Cats the Musical.
Many of us are stifled at school and work unable to fulfil our full potential in either. We need to be in the right environment and context to perform well at school and work – all institutions have a tendency to pigeon hole and fail - or don't give a shit – to spot our true talents.
Previously on Barnflakes:
Atmosphere
Absolutely famous
My ex bemoans the fact that I (and my parents too actually) like seeing my daughter in context (ie where she lives, not just visiting me) but like seeing animals in a zoo as compared to seeing them in the wild, context is everything.
In a Ted Talk, educationist Ken Robinson talks about creativity in education. He argues that creativity is largely squeezed out of children at a young age in favour of maths, English and the sciences; he believes this is wrong – and cites the example of a now-famous ballet dancer who at school displayed signs of ADHD (this was before the term was invented, mind) and would have been wrongly diagnosed had it not been for an attentive teacher – who realised she just wanted to dance. She went on to start her own dance company and perform in such shows as Cats the Musical.
Many of us are stifled at school and work unable to fulfil our full potential in either. We need to be in the right environment and context to perform well at school and work – all institutions have a tendency to pigeon hole and fail - or don't give a shit – to spot our true talents.
Previously on Barnflakes:
Atmosphere
Absolutely famous
Friday, August 14, 2015
Womb vs world
Life is full of the internal and external battle. It starts in the womb – we don't want to leave and come out screaming, against our will. The womb vs world battle is the one we probably never grow out of, so to speak, and every subsequent battle is just a replay of that first massive jolt from inner to outer. We spend nine months in the comfort of the womb, with no idea of what's ahead in the outside world.
Once into adulthood, most of our battles are firmly in place. Getting out of bed in the morning is the first of the day; the morning alarm disrupts the womb-like feel of the warm bed and we go from that dark warmth, comfort and absolute bliss into the cold, blaring light of day. Going from home to work is the next battle – the comfort and sanctity of the home is in marked contrast to the sterile, impersonal environment of the office. Even having to wear clothes is a kind of battle for me – the freedom of nudity and the cost, hassle and uncomfortable, constricting feeling of clothes.
People's move from country to city is another kind of womb vs world battle: now, for the first time in history, more people live in urban areas than rural (54%). Country is nature, spirituality and freedom; it's our natural habitat. The city is crime-ridden, over-populated, cramped and dirty – it hardly feels like a natural environment for humans. Obviously there are many reasons for the move towards urban areas – jobs being one of the main ones, but the move from country to city is such a seismic shift of the hundred years.
If given the choice, I wonder how many of us would choose to ever leave the womb. We should be given the option as we're about to exit the womb to either stay or go.
Once into adulthood, most of our battles are firmly in place. Getting out of bed in the morning is the first of the day; the morning alarm disrupts the womb-like feel of the warm bed and we go from that dark warmth, comfort and absolute bliss into the cold, blaring light of day. Going from home to work is the next battle – the comfort and sanctity of the home is in marked contrast to the sterile, impersonal environment of the office. Even having to wear clothes is a kind of battle for me – the freedom of nudity and the cost, hassle and uncomfortable, constricting feeling of clothes.
People's move from country to city is another kind of womb vs world battle: now, for the first time in history, more people live in urban areas than rural (54%). Country is nature, spirituality and freedom; it's our natural habitat. The city is crime-ridden, over-populated, cramped and dirty – it hardly feels like a natural environment for humans. Obviously there are many reasons for the move towards urban areas – jobs being one of the main ones, but the move from country to city is such a seismic shift of the hundred years.
If given the choice, I wonder how many of us would choose to ever leave the womb. We should be given the option as we're about to exit the womb to either stay or go.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
People are stories
American historian Richard Carrier spent six years researching the idea that Jesus was never a real person. Well, okay. But does it matter? Religion in general seems to me a series of stories, myths and legends invented by humans as guides to living a good life. Jesus and God are no different to, say, Zeus, Apollo or Winnie the Pooh. Helen said to me: everyone becomes a story in the end, which made me stop and think. This is immediately apparent when someone dies; at their funeral we swap stories of the recently deceased and may even find out something about them we didn't know. Their life has become a story; it's the main way we keep them alive – by relating stories about them: 'Do you remember when so-and-so did this or that?' Living people are stories too. Unless we're actually with that person, their life to us is a series of stories, be it recitals, anecdotes or gossip.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Top ten London creatures
1. Crystal Palace Dinosaurs
Seriously, they're the main reason I moved there.
2. Elephant at Elephant and Castle
3. Albino Bat at Natural History Museum
4. Catford Cat
The best thing about Catford.
5. Camel at The Camel & Artichoke, Waterloo
6. Crystal Palace Sphinxes
Second reason I moved there.
7. Brick Lane Space Invader
8. Kentish Town Camel
9. Hampton Court Panther
10. Pacman Ghost on The Windmill Pub, Lambeth High St
Previously on Barnflakes:
Dick Whittington's Cat
Giro the Nazi Dog
Seriously, they're the main reason I moved there.
2. Elephant at Elephant and Castle
3. Albino Bat at Natural History Museum
4. Catford Cat
The best thing about Catford.
5. Camel at The Camel & Artichoke, Waterloo
6. Crystal Palace Sphinxes
Second reason I moved there.
7. Brick Lane Space Invader
8. Kentish Town Camel
9. Hampton Court Panther
10. Pacman Ghost on The Windmill Pub, Lambeth High St
Previously on Barnflakes:
Dick Whittington's Cat
Giro the Nazi Dog
Sunday, August 09, 2015
Lookalikes #37: Robert Frank and George Michael
No, not Robert Frank himself but a photo he took for his hugely influential book of photos, The Americans, published in the States in 1959; and George Michael, around the time of his album Faith (1987).
Previously on Barnflakes:
Book cover: Robert Frank's Les Americains
Robert Frank's ridiculous ratios
Previously on Barnflakes:
Book cover: Robert Frank's Les Americains
Robert Frank's ridiculous ratios
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