A fragment In My Mind

This is a piece of my creative writing about the loss of youth and the inevitability of growing up, It is accompanied by some original/first hand photography:

Infinite, that is what we were. We were the exception to the crumbled up society, the outcasts of the school halls. We were the odd ones out, the ones who wore yellow when everyone wore pink. In a way, we liked that. The feeling of not being in with the crowd. I remember the years of riding around with not a care. The years of going to the beaches and dip dying our hair. We were the exception the odd ones out; we were living for the moment and making it count. The teenage years were memorable, just you and I, not forgetting the other four of them tagging along for the ride.

Your hair used to dance in the breeze as we drove on the fast lane watching the city lights for as long as we pleased. The lights are now a blur a mix of yellows and red. Sometimes even pools of silver starlight glowing again and again. Riding around the town, we knew every corner and creek. Going to the diner that smelt like the homemade meal, we never got to eat. The waiter walking over and flirting with you, but you would never listen because you were not interested. You were still a child. Always messing about and being wild. I guess that was just you. We got a warm hot chocolate and drove away. We sipped on it while watching the sun on the crispy green hill. We used to sit there for hours and just look around. It was our spot just for us. our little haven away from the crowded school bus.

Riding our bikes through the tangled woods. Telling scary story’s by the brooks. The glass bottles we hung from the trees would clash, clatter, and sing in the humid night breeze. Fragments of paper covered our bedroom walls. Places we would travel to pinned to the doors. This tiny town could not hold us in. our dreams were now too big to fit in. You were going to be a writer and I your muse. I was going to be an actress who everyone knew. We were young and naïve and liked to bend the rules. But that was ok because we were just having fun, that was what summer was for, after all.  

Telling mum I was studying with them, but really, we were singing and chasing the sun. The warm sand carried us. The seashore was the pathway to the world to us. The humming of the fireflies as we lit the amber fire, the laughs, and songs we used to share. The smell of roasted marshmallows haunting the sweet honey summer air. The teenage years were our best. The magic still makes me nostalgic. It was what made me, me, and made you, you. It was the finale that not even we knew. But for that moment we were fine. we were still kids in our minds.

Soon the tide came in. The seashells that we once collected began to shatter under our skin. Winter came to fast and froze our young hearts. School was now all we thought about. Revision books and test papers replaced our dreams, no more pictures of us to be seen. We began to drift away, far away. High school had taken over our teenage dream. I was now the nerd and you the prom king. As for the rest, well they were never to be seen, except for on the hipster table in the canteen. Our good days had ended and now I was alone. The memories all seemed like a dream. I wish we could be us again. I wish we could still dance around the fire or watch the sun and be inspired. It all seems like it never happened, as if it was never real. Maybe that is the way it should be as if it was serial.

We were infinite, you and I. we were once free, and ready to fly. Now we are stuck in the town we call home, never to leave just stay and grow old. We no longer know one another; in fact, we are strangers when we pass each other. Maybe I will see you again and remember how we used to be. but for now, we are memories hidden deep within our teenage dream.

Silk

This is a short art film to the song 'Silk', it was again based on distortion but this time focuses on the distortional feeling of nostalgia. 

The Journy

This is a short creative writing piece inspired by the journey to my home town up North, it is accompanied by a first hand photographical piece. 

I fall into a blurred musky dream of dark dusted ally-ways of powdered bricks. The ghost like decaying walls are tattooed with the ink of a silver star, like the spirit of the world had struck the dark street with a small ray of light from its core

The slow rumble of the rusted train as it approaches the stern concreate platform, the scatter of people dispersing like pages from a descending book, each one with a story, a life, a flutter. The journey begins.

Then at last I fall into the pure, the tranquil. The warm silky colours melt into one another, creating swirls of warm air that wraps around me like a creamy coffee on a cold northern morning. The trees dance in the honey-suckled breeze that carries the sweet scent of the woven grass of the land in which I know. 

As I walk in the land of translucent dreams. I fall in love with the dark, the light and the journey in which I have and will take.         

Mad World

A music video created by myself and two other members of my class. The video is based upon the theme of depression:

City Light

This is one of my short art films on the theme 'the distortion of  childhood'. For the theme I decided to heavily blur the visuals and add an original creative writing piece as a narrative.

 Creative writing:

I guess there is something magical

In the way the city light flash,

The way they reflect

Of shattering glass and murky pools

Of water hidden in alleyways of dark.

The city’s cosmic waves of light

Engulfed every cell with in me,

They scurry and scatter when they hear noise

From the screams of dreams from young boys

They live in me,

They make me

And they will break me.

Nevertheless, that will not be for a long time

So in this moment

This very second

I shall embrace the light

 I shall let it shine through me

 Every corner

 And creek.

When I am in the dark

I shall let the light take over

Because the city life is the light,

Because I am the city and because

The city belongs to us.

The generation of melted minds

And slushed actions,

We’ll show them,

We’ll show them how we shin.

This city is ours and if we do not clasp it, we may never see the true life hidden deep within it.