G is for... Glowing

So walking home every evening, either to the tube station, or from the ferry, everything seems to be glowing. Must be the time of year, everything seems brighter and shinier than usual.

Of course the Christmas decorations take much of the credit for that, but at Canary Wharf the other day, these strange 'paper' boats appeared in the water. I wasn't sure what the deal was and I'm still not, but walking back to the tube that night, they were all lit up. They gradually transitioned from one colour to another, however, the day I remembered my camera, they were all mixed for a change. And here's my favourite... Lovely!!

Merry Christmas!!

G is for..... Gump, Forrest Gump

Firstly I want to say that I love this film. I find it's funny, sad and hopeful all in one. I think our society gives up on and lables people who are slightly different far too quickly. I know that the likelyhood of this happening in real life is a long shot, but wouldn't it be great if it did happen for someone...?








I know the 2 really don't go together, but as I put so much effort into this one, this year I would like to share it with you, so....

G is for.... Ginormous Christmas Tree

If anyone is wondering how the hell 1560 fairy lights fit onto a tree... It's easy, buy 21 light sets / chains and then place one bulb on each branch. Oh yeah and place 2 sets as you would tinsel :) The best part as always are the hand crafted bits, made by the kids :)

After I got all 1560 fairy lights on it

Finished

G is for...ghost trees

Tash, I stole your G. What can I say, your amazing poem was weighing on my mind as I stepped outside today.

G is for...

This poem is inspired by what Morgan Freeman is reputed to have said about the sensationalist media making things such as the Connecticut Shooting ten times worse by glamorising the shooter as the villain of the piece, and therefore vindicating their last plea for attention. For more information please see:
http://www.thehollywoodgossip.com/2012/12/morgan-freeman-blames-sensationalist-media-for-connecticut-shoot/
This isn't meant to offend anybody, just me using my creativity to try and make sense or voice the feelings of grief such a horrendous tragedy causes across not just the nation of America, but the whole world.

Ghosts

What am I doing here?

Miss said be brave, Miss said be strong,

Said that this man was wrong.

To be making such noise, and causing such pain,

She said he had nothing to gain.

And then she fell down,

And then I did too,

Now I’m wondering what I should do.

Because I want to go home, I want to get up,

But I can’t and I’ve tried, and I’ve hurt and I’ve cried.

What am I doing here?

And now they’re calling his name, baying for his blood,

It’s since been spilled, but it’s not enough.

To heal the grief, a nation’s tears,

Brought on by weak laws and wasted fears.

19 of us live on in our parent’s hearts, forever yearned for, forever apart.

He’s now a villain, his picture engrained,

On the minds of the public, forever ashamed.

But do you remember my name?  

G is for... Go Away

If you’re just coming at me with your Christmas cheer

Let me warn you now I don’t like this time of year;

It makes me feel so lonely. And failing. And fat.

And no one likes to be reminded of all that.

And don’t look back, all wistful, at your single days

Unless you have a wish for my fist in your face.

Don’t dismiss as nothing my intense lack of sex -

If you really mean it, make your partner your ex

Then come back in six years’ time and tell me it’s great

To spend so many New Years with no kiss, no mate.

So go away, festive folk, get out of my hair -

Just get lost far, far away, and when you get there

Keep going further, circle round; then my friend

When you’re back with glad tidings, just fuck off again.

G is for ... Grunge

"Punk rock should mean freedom, playing whatever you want, as sloppy as you want as long as it's good and it has passion"

 

Brought up on grunge at a late stage of 16 years old, like so many it changed my life and I fell in love with the raw, f**king balls out, powerful sound that sends shudders down my back when I hear it and yet it holds so much sincerity and what really shines through is its true passion.

F is for...Fancy Dress

(From my actual childhood. It's a miracle I'm not in therapy.)

I cried as they wrapped me up in orange crepe paper

Round and round they wound the roll

And bound me up

In orange crepe paper

“I don’t want to be a carrot,” I said

“I want to be a fairy instead”

“A carrot is much more fun, hold still”

I cried as they wrapped me up in orange crepe paper

Round and round they wound the roll

And topped me off with greenery, glued to a headband.