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Grey Days
Jan 20, 2021
Creative writing attempting to capture the feeling of the third lockdown.
There is no weather today. A blank greyness hangs over everything, muting colours and deadening thoughts. It isn't quite raining, nor is it dry. It is probably Tuesday or possibly Wednesday - such words have lost their meaning and purpose. The street is empty but for the sluggish sentries of blue recycling bins choked with Amazon packaging. The only sign of life is a lone fluorescent-clad jogger, frantically pounding and puffing down the pavement, trying to outrun his own soul.
It is hard to settle, hard to concentrate, hard to relax. All contrasts have been ironed out, reducing life to an endless, shapeless, fuzzy blur. I go through the motions anyway - eating breakfast, showering, eating lunch, walking aimlessly up and down random streets - keeping up the pretence. Rehearsing for a future life that seems like nothing more than a fanciful dream.
But all the drama that has been sucked out of everyday life is siphoned into the media where heightened horror stories fight for space. Constant updates, newsflashes and hyperbole assault us from multiple flickering screens that never sleep: threats to life, political collapse, economic ruin, all illustrated by a swirling circus of bewildering graphs and statistics. We all look on, detached and helpless, the word 'unprecedented' starting to sound strange from being repeated too many times. The warnings and hysteria now merely compound the numbness - like heaping more snow upon the rock hard, frozen ground.
So what can we do? No one has many meaningful answers. Not even the glut of overnight 'virtual wellbeing experts', who are slowly growing listless counting their questionable cash in their designer pyjama bottoms. I try to dream of better days, but I daren't look too far ahead - all too soon I become tangled up in complicated knots of what-ifs and hows and wheres. So I look back. I turn off the screens and turn my gaze to the past. To old photos, old songs and another time. For an hour or so I lose myself beneath a comforting, colourful blanket of memories - faraway places, faraway people, laughter, stories and vivid feelings. I don't know when or if or what I will add to this rich patchwork. But, for now, nostalgia thaws the numbness in my spirit a little. It is enough.
Beyond the glossy Instagram images lies another side of Chefchaouen
The story of a short but transformative encounter in Fes, Morocco
A semi-humourous account of house hunting in the Capital.
Mixed media portraits of the people of Jerusalem.
World Peace Day exhibition at the Bosnian Embassy with Most Mira.
Poetry exploring my experience of returning to my native Aberdeen
Site-specific performance in Aberdeen's iconic Bon Accord Baths
The power of personal storytelling and its role in my work with Safe Harbour Open Sea.
Some questions and answers about new book 'Mirage'.
Illustrated Bedouin proverbs - ancient wisdom for modern times