Every image has a story
If I write right on the left side on my leg does it make it wrong? If I sit and think of something that rings true to me, will my closest be gone? Is this pretty, is this right, is this the way or should I take flight? All the beauty in the world questioned with every word, descriptions and feelings flattened out to avoid the hardest curve.
So I sit and watch the stream and think of all things past, be kind to yourself and heed your voice and use the things you’ve learnt.
‘You know what your problem is don’t you?’
‘What?’ Jay replied
‘Well you think you are original, but you’re not.’
Jay laughed, a smile growing on the left side of his face and his chest bouncing up and down.
‘Why thank you’ he mocked in a classic British accent. ‘It’s so reassuring to know that your best friends believe in you.’
‘Listen’ James replied ‘it’s not that your ideas are bad, in fact a few years ago I did think what you were talking about was a little niche, you know on the edge of fashionable, but it’s true that now people are asking for all that interactive content.’
Jay butted in ‘so I am original then.’
‘Wait let me finish, even though you thought about monetising it before anyone else, doesn’t mean it was original’
‘Before anyone else’ he teased ‘sounds like o…rig…in…al…’ he sounded out like a school child learning to read.
‘But it’s advertising that makes you think of an idea first. We own your mind without you even knowing it.’
‘What are you talking about, you don’t own my mind. 100% original my brain.’
‘That’s what I mean, you are not, we seed your ideas into you mind without you even knowing and then let you think you made them all up yourself.’
‘Shut up James’
‘No I’m serious, we are everywhere, on your phone, first thing you look at in the morning, on the radio, tv, breakfast cereal, newspaper…’
Jay interrupted, ‘no one buys a newspaper’
‘Whatever… we are everywhere, you can’t deny it.’
‘But it doesn’t effect me, I just ignore it’
‘No you rebel against it, which makes you think another way we want you to think. You know classic love it, hate it, still talk about it.’
Jay was quiet and the two gazed across the park from the bench.
‘So how do you have an original thought?’
James waited, then started to answer and stopped himself paused a little longer and answered. ‘Hmmm… dunno’
She had been playing by the pond for many months, creating bridges, dams, harbours, sinking stones or fishing them out, but this winter something had caught her attention, something had appeared deep down, right at its heart.
It flickered… sometimes it was bright and shiny, sometimes dull and grey, sometimes it wasn’t there at all. Sometimes she looked and looked but it didn’t appear and sometimes it was there standing proud, staring right back at her, as if it was shouting ‘COME AND GET ME!’
I didn’t understand it. I had so many questions inside my head, but none of the answers that I could come up with made any sense. And the worst part, I couldn’t stop the thoughts, they constantly bombarded my every moment, it was exhausting.
By the time the third day after the break up came around I finally found the energy to pick myself up and do something healthy, to try and make me feel wanted again. Somehow I needed to feel good and worthy. So I did all the things that when I was happy I put off, it’s funny how when you are happy you don’t need to do anything, you feel loved and that’s enough, if you are loved then what you do doesn’t matter, success or failure you will be loved. But when you are down, wow, then you need some medicine.
But after one day of feeling myself again, I saw her, and she was with him. My heart melted and it was back to questions, self doubt and no sleep. I wondered how long it would last, would I feel shit forever? Would the sadness pass? I don’t know, I promised myself that time would heal me, to be patient, but my temper flared and there were moments where I could not control myself I became violent to myself. I was desperate to cry to release everything, but I couldn’t bring the tears, I was numb.
I tried to pick myself up again, restore some energy into my life, but all I could do was think of ways of getting her back. That was the wort thing, all this pain and suffering I was feeling, caused by her, and all I could do was try get her back, return it to the place it was before, the place I had left it, the time when everything between us was natural, when we didn’t have to think, we were just good together. It was magic, like I genuinely believe that it was magic. But was that what she felt at the time? I don’t know, it seemed that way, maybe she was just a great actress.
They ran, they ran and ran, they couldn’t stop, not to think, not to look, not to pause for thought. They were making all the wrong decisions, they went right instead of left, they tried to scramble when they should have stuck to the path. They called to each other when they needed silence. But they tried. They both knew that there was a way, they both wanted to find a way, but every decision they made ended in a clash and because of this, they stopped. They stopped trying to escape and were caught.
And here only when hope was gone, when captivity was inevitable did they see each other, they felt each others touch, the pain and friction between them melted away, they looked into each other’s eyes and their hearts beat together. Despite the desperation in their situation, they smiled and felt the warm glow of each other’s love.
They turned away from each other, away from their captors and looked out across the countryside, the landscape was wild, unkept, the terrain uneven and the fauna sharp and aggressive. But there was a peacefulness to the energy, an acceptance from the couple in their fate. They smiled together and looked up to the clouds. As they stared towards the sky the autumn leaves rose up above them swirling, spinning, drifting, bouncing like a butterfly… sometimes leaves go up.
Things moved fast, life didn’t change much, but there never seemed to be a moment to pause. There was always someone to chat to or laugh with, and you were always close to them, parked up next door or across the road. You could drive somewhere else, but inevitably someone would turn up and then play would resume.
The funniest times were when crews with children turned up, two little rat-bags running around the wild, covered in dirt, but beaming with smiles. It was great to see them play, their imaginations were alive, their toys broken but ingrained with evidence of many stories.
It made me think about our own family, maybe we were all just a bunch of big kids and moving fast wasn’t such a bad thing, maybe it kept our own imaginations alive.
Sometimes I have to tell myself to look around, to stop and appreciate what’s around me. But most of the time I just stare at the rock. It’s hard to look around when your focus is elsewhere. But one day I will, it will probably be too late and I will have missed the chance of a good view, but I promise myself, when I am old and can’t climb as much, I will stop to look around.
Despite promising himself the time to look around was going to be later, Matty was surprised. He was up early at the top of the cliff, he and his climbing partner James had stayed the night on the rocks and were preparing to continue their assent. Dawn was breaking and the light was blue. Matty turned to look at the pitches below him, to seek out the valley floor, but his view was interrupted by the clouds marching in below him.
The valley quickly filled and Matty nudged his mate to wake him. James opened his eyes slowly, sat up on the ledge and let his sleepy eyes dance across the bed of clouds.
‘Wow’ he announced, ‘That’s pretty fuckin cool’.
The two climbers sat in silence breathing in the air letting nature show off in front of them.
Two hours later and the boys were climbing again, making their final push to the top of the cliff, as Matty sat in his harness belaying his friend he thought back to the morning clouds and the excitement they had inspired. Taking his eyes off the rock face he looked to the sky. Above him Vultures circled flying down to his level, swooping below him and then in wide arcs returning up, out of the valley into the clear blue sky. It was a beautiful sound as they passed, huge wings beating slowly, majestically, Matty could almost feel the air they pushed in his direction. He smiled to himself. He smiled back at mother nature.
‘Safe’ James called. The signal that he was secure at the anchor of the pitch. It was his turn to climb.
The boys hid in the reeds watching through the mist. They were pretty certain the hunters had gone, but there was no guarantee that they would not return.
‘So what’s the plan?’
‘We need to get the shotgun cartridges.’
‘How do we know where they are?’
‘We don’t that’s why we have to go and have a look.’
‘So they might not even be in the hut, they could have taken them with them.’
Joseph and Andrew had been set another task, this time however it wasn’t part of the initiation it was part of what they did, causing chaos. Out on the lake there were a series of huts on stilts for the duck hunters. The lake wasn’t fenced so the boys could get to the hut without ‘trespassing’, but out in the open, on the lake, there was a high possibility of being spotted and perhaps shot at, deliberately or by accident.
‘Why do we need the cartridges anyway?’
‘Look it’s not our job to ask questions, you have to wait a few years before you can ask questions. Robin will have a plan.’
‘You think he has a gun?’ Joseph asked, Andrew paused letting the words bounce around in his head.
‘I don’t know’ he answered honestly, thinking about the repercussions of getting shot gun cartridges for a real gun. ‘That’s not for thinking abut now, we got to get what we have been told to get and then… Well then we think about the next…’ He trailed off.
Joseph frowned unsatisfied by the answer, but wasn’t brave enough to challenge any more. ‘Shall we swim?’
The boys took off their shirts, trousers and lowered themselves into the water. It was August, but the lake was still cold, the cold ran through their bodies as they tiptoed into the water, clay oozing up in-between their toes. Taking one last breath Andrew lowered his chest into the water and started swimming. Quietly Joseph followed.
It didn’t take them long to arrive at the hut, they circled the building weaving in and out of the pillars in the water looking for some steps up. The poles were slippery, coated in green slime, but at the back Joseph found some steps, he beckoned to Andrew and they hauled themselves onto the platform.
Shivering the two boys scanned the lake’s perimeter, the mist was thick and their movements seemed to have gone unnoticed. Andrew knelt down by the entrance, pressing his ear to the door checking for signs of activity inside. Joseph flicked his head toward Andrew as if to ask if he could hear anything. Andrew shook his head in response, stood clasped the handle, paused, twisted and burst into the room.
It was empty, well, uninhabited at least. There was a sigh of relief and the boys set to work looking for shotgun cartridges.
‘Anything?’ Joesph asked
‘It’s all fishing stuff, bait, rods, tins of meat, look at this’ Andrew held up a tin of smoked sardines, ‘this box is full, I think whoever comes here has a bit of an addiction. You?’
‘Nope, petrol cans, blankets and cooking stuff.’
‘Any shot guns?’ The boys laughed. ‘Joe hold on, come here.’ Andrew had pulled back an old tarpaulin revealing a crate. Joseph crossed the room.
‘What you got?’
‘Shot gun cartridges’ Andrew replied looking at his mate and then back to a red box with ammunition written on it and a drawing of shot gun cartridges. Joseph reached down picked it up and opened the lid.
‘Lara croft?’
‘Watch them closely… and listen it’s a very interesting form of communication’
Jeremy was teaching his favourite class showing footage from the beginning of the digital age, it was a time when the power of internal conflict was not fully understood but was being used very effectively.
‘But it doesn’t make us any money’ Sasha demanded while pointing adamantly at the pool of ideas spread out across the table. ‘We need to focus on the sales in the bar.’
‘But it draws people into the bar in the first place, without the events we don’t attract as many people’
‘We do, the climbing attracts the people and we don’t have to have any investment in that, it’s here already’
Elizabeth laughed, but it was a sarcastic laugh, meant to impose her intellect. ‘We have invested thousands in the climbing’
‘And made money back’ Bernard added smartly.
‘Yea but times are changing.’ A row was simmering.
Jeremy stopped the tape and turned back to the class. ‘Okay can anyone tell me what what’s going on?’
Lucy raised her hand, ‘Yes Lucy’
‘Well the Co-op has made it’s money from the the climbers coming to the village and Elizabeth wants to diversify but Bernard thinks she is just spending the money made from the climbers on her own arts events.’
‘Great that is what’s happening on the face of things, but what is going on internally?’ The class took a collective breath, some bums shuffled in seats the eyes turned away from the professor back to their tablets. ‘Shall I continue?’ The class nodded in unison, Jeremy pressed play.
‘The main reason people keep coming back is not because of the climbing, it’s because of the people.’
‘You mean the climbers’
‘Shut up Bernard, stop being such a pig headed fool. The community is what makes it, you admit yourself that the parties and the bar create a cool atmosphere in the village.’
Bernard was quiet he agreed with her but wasn’t about to admit it. He just wanted more routes.
Elizabeth continued ‘If we want to keep the profits in the bar, we need to keep our audience hungry.’
Jeremy paused the tape again. ‘Okay internal conflict anyone?’
John raised his hand ‘The more they eat in the bar the more money they make?’ The class burst into laughter.
‘Very amusing John, can anyone expand on John’s words of wisdom?’
Joe put up his hand
‘Yes Joe’
‘Elizabeth wants the knowlege of the experiences in the bar to act like the social media frameworks.’
‘Good, quickly explain the social framework’
Joe paused for a moment… ‘You keep your audience by showing ‘the hero avatar’. Posts show your best life, so followers buy into you.’
‘Good so how is that playing out here?’
‘I am not sure if they are doing it digitally yet, but Elizabeth wants the the public to know about parties and art as the hero avatar. Perhaps she believes the diversification is more of a hook than just climbing.’
‘Okay good, that sounds like a hungry audience and what about the internal conflict? Yes Lucy.’
‘There are two, Bernards refusal to believe in Elizabeth’s art community makes her more adamant that it is right, Bernard effectively keeps her hungry. And the people coming to the village see or hear about the parties and climbing and want to be part of it.’
‘Great so what do we call that?’
The class answered in unison, ‘positive internal conflict and negative internal conflict.’
‘So you want to be one of us?’ Robin announced after a long hiatus, Joseph nodded in reply. ‘Well it’s not that easy you know…’ Joseph didn’t flinch, kept control of his emotions and looked back into Robin’s eyes, not too fiercely, but enough to show he could stand his ground.
‘We can test him first’ Andrew chimed in.
‘Of course we’re gonna test him, everyone gets tested.’ Andrew looked away sheepishly. ‘You think you are up for that?’ he added talking to the new recruit.
Joseph looked up from the floor and nodded, ‘I am fast, what do I have to do?’
The crew nodded at each other. The boys were all sitting in the attic of the ruin at the top of the village, they had transformed it into a base for their crew and met each weekend to organise their next mission. Today was the induction of a new lad, Joseph, who had just arrived in town.
There was some chatter between the crew and after a few moments Joseph turned to the new boy.
‘Okay listen and listen good, I am only gonna say this once.’ Silence fell around the room. ‘First we gonna blindfold you and take you to the centre of town, you gotta find Mr Finlay’s shop and get into the attic, I’ll give you a clue, there is an old fire escape at the back, it’s not solid but if you are quick you’ll get up it.’ The boys all looked at each other, sly smiles emerging on their faces. ‘Then once you are up there you gotta open one of his old chests, I ain’t gonna tell which one you gotta go for, but you gotta find a skull, the bigger the better.’ Robin paused and signalled around the room with his eyes.
Joseph followed his gaze and saw seven or eight large unidentified skulls hanging on a rope high in the room. He hadn’t noticed them before. Robin continued.
‘Once you got the skull you gotta make you way through the alley ways and back to us, but watch out there maybe a few extra challenges on the way.’
Life From the Dirt 