A fluid concept. Home.
I have found that a home is hard to come by this past year and a half. At the same time I have found home in the strangest of places.
It is an obvious truth that home is much more than simply the place that you live. But it is a truth that I have not really understood until recently.
I have been living in my new flat for about a week and a half now. And I do love it, for many reasons. It is beginning to feel like home. By which I mean that I am beginning to feel less like I am visiting an as yet unknown friend, and more like I can legitimately play host to friends who come visit me.
On a side note, I am slightly disappointed that I used the word 'love' in the second sentence of the last paragraph. In the English language it is a word that is abused, and it's meaning confused. What I'm mmost disappointed with, thought, is the fact that I had trouble finding an alternative word, and instead felt that writing a whole paragraph about it would be an adequate second to changing the word.
I've been on my own for a majority of the time. I don't think it has been very good for me. I begin to focus on myself too much. I can easily become a recluse, not a good thing. Community is good for me...even though I may not always be good for community!
Anyway. I have no internet, so I have not written much in a while, and may well not for a while again.
Read Blue Like Jazz. I didn't really like it. But then it got better, and I recommend it.
Thursday, 13 September 2007
Friday, 31 August 2007
Diana; an English cult?
Today is the 10th anniversary of Diana, Princess of Wales' death. It has moved a nation to remember her in many different ways.
Personally I remember the day she died. I was 10 years old, and with my siblings I woke my parents up that Sunday morning, complaining that there were no cartoons on because some important person had died. My next complaint was that my mother didn't believe me!
Little did I realise that a nation mourning would turn their mourning into something resembling a cult, with Diana as the goddess. In Althorp, where she is burried, there is even a temple, where people can lay flowers etc. as they walk around the lake where Diana is burried on an island in the middle.
A nation who have turned their back on the one true God, are filling it with a media-spun version of a woman who has created more of a stir dead, than she did when she was alive. It is interesting to observe an elaborate rememberance of death, being armed with the knowledge that death is not the end.
I wonder whether the 10th anniversary of the death of Churchill, or Queen Victoria, were remembered in quite the same way.
If you're interested, BBC have extensive coverage.
Personally I remember the day she died. I was 10 years old, and with my siblings I woke my parents up that Sunday morning, complaining that there were no cartoons on because some important person had died. My next complaint was that my mother didn't believe me!
Little did I realise that a nation mourning would turn their mourning into something resembling a cult, with Diana as the goddess. In Althorp, where she is burried, there is even a temple, where people can lay flowers etc. as they walk around the lake where Diana is burried on an island in the middle.
A nation who have turned their back on the one true God, are filling it with a media-spun version of a woman who has created more of a stir dead, than she did when she was alive. It is interesting to observe an elaborate rememberance of death, being armed with the knowledge that death is not the end.
I wonder whether the 10th anniversary of the death of Churchill, or Queen Victoria, were remembered in quite the same way.
If you're interested, BBC have extensive coverage.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)