Drehungen und wendungen

The second year in Scotland began with the conclusion of legal proceedings against a former landlord. Vindication came at a price but at least my obstinacy was rewarded. Throughout the year variations of this theme have resurfaced. Severance from my family was rendered during the first month. Not through wrong doing but simply an absence of common sense. It was around this time that my paintings began. Ludicrous, unthinking, I made a large canvas copy of the digital image from last September. Pleased by relative success I used oil on paper to plot further ideas. This has consumed a lot of my spare time. It is a satisfactory distraction from premise of authorship. Today, title of my annual installation is taken from the closest German approximation to the name of the above artwork. In the final days of January, together with my ex, I went to Belfast via ferry and bus, getting as far as the Giants Causeway. Reminded that things can stagnate when attached, it seemed that continuing the relationship was not in our best interest. Though several arrangements, such as earlier booked visit to north west Scotland late February, meant we still had things to do. We had not factored that ferries to Skye do not leave on the weekend from Mallaig, and on a bad day you can not see Ben Nevis from Fort William. Poor weather certainly carries regretful symbolism. The following weekend I had organised a trip to Newcastle as a birthday gift to another. After several months wrangling this was a perfect opportunity to rebuild a friendship bridge, we also were to attend a football game at St James' Park. Unrelated, whilst away I received an incoherent strange cotenant's text message advising me that there had been an altercation in my flat. More than anything else, the Geordie weekend demonstrated our association had splintered. My stupidity in making advanced plans proved again, upon return to be informed, that she would not make accompaniment to Greece in June. Nor was presence at purchased Radiohead gigs probable. It mattered little, as does the additional minuscule detail which makes this all seem so vast. My ex still received my dedication, we returned to London with some of the integral planning left up to her. Since our break up, she had strung together an unfortunate series, deaths in the family, parent troubles, poor health, stalker and attempted assaults. She singularly burdened me with the saddest thing I'd heard. Paradoxically for me, at the beginning of April, things had not seemed better. The panic of tenants vacating the flat relieved by another's entrance. It cost me nothing in the end other than the time pushing for assistance. It seemed for a while that this year would get even better. If better is your idea of a downward spiral. At the beginning of the month I missed Andy Yorke in Glasgow through sheer laziness. Celebration of my thirtieth birthday was the final preplanned trip remaining with my ex, a five day binge to Amsterdam. Particularly as I want to live there, this duration was too long. Little makes you feel older than turning thirty whilst seeing a teenager. A realisation that I chronologically reached half way through my sentence in the United Kingdom and that it was time to look towards my future. The following weekend I had organised a trip to Cumbria. Two tickets were bought without another in mind. It was an achievement to finally have made it to the Lakes District. When I returned my ex had done the brave thing and ended matters. My sole concern at the time was for festival tickets we had purchased for T in the park. I had not received them and for once she'd paid for an event in advance. Things were fine preceding the departure of sense. The story is too detailed to recount here, it will be told elsewhere. Yet it caused my missing London at the end of May. Instead I stayed home to protect my personal space with installation of a lock on my bedroom door. At the beginning of the month, I thought little about dispatching a work bully. Things got crazy during May, which is always a good indication of when to withdraw into your shell. Most concerning was that it was now contaminated. I held on to the notion of disappearing to Greece and its provisional fortune. I left with a simple demand that the flatmate pay his bills and return cash owed. I then erased the concept training to Newcastle, ferrying to Amsterdam and bussing to Rome. The twenty six hours would have been torture in any other but the front seat. The Bari ferry was cancelled late due to the Pope so I was destined for Brindisi. An on deck pool and the Mediterranean sun helped me overshoot the target by several hundred kilometres. I saw an encompassing breadth of places and things that I might not without this route being forged. Sleep deprivation was painful. Within hours of my arrival in Corfu I fell into the pool exhausted and smacked my head. Blood streaming down, the scarring is strangely insignificant. During the quickly transpired nine Hellenic days, I obtained my Scuba diving certification. Scary but enlightening, it illustrated from where I had come and where next to go. Despite loving to smoke, I realised it was not completely necessary and marginally self defeatist. The plane left the heat of Corfu behind just past midnight and arrived in Newcastle at two am. Having become accustom to the heat the return home was unpleasant. Things got worse minutes after returning to the flat, one cotenant finally came to the conclusion that the other cohabitant needed to go. A total of fifteen minutes after having the holiday of my life I was confronted with the worst mundaneness. The lack of sleep did not help. More madness followed yet it was carefully orchestrated and produced a desired effect. One week later we were living with another and things returned to some kind of normality. In July there was talk of oil prices reaching US$200 a barrel. Andy Yorke finally released his solo album. It contained music that I had been anticipating for the whole time over here, highly relieved upon its acquisition. Twists and bends is taken from lyrics in one of those songs. It is my album of the year purely for the long wait. This year was not Simple. It paled in comparison to T in the Park the following weekend, solely for Rage against the machine. The ticket was given to an ingrate who tried her best to ruin my fun. People trying to ruin my fun occurred in disproportion within these twelve months. The weekend fizzled but their performance rates with the best I've seen. Alongside scuba diving, RATM rate as my highlight of the year. Things finally started to pick up again in July. Radiohead did not enthral as it might. Missing the Manchester performance was beyond my control and I was spared another lesson. I decided I would change tack and become more responsible in the organisation of shared utilities. This, together with befriending habitual liars, became my most revealing mistakes. I literally ran out of puff. Things planned for August fell by the way side after further trouble. Instead of affecting my British citizenship, after being assaulted by a cotenant, I involved the Police. I realised that I would have to vacate the place where I have settled longest in the UK. Then came arrival of an acquaintance from Australia. She reminded me of the period a decade ago. It was mostly an unpleasant tenure. The Large Hadron Collider was supposed to end the world. Scientists were certain of its necessity to investigate things the masses don't understand. At the end of September I left the place that I had been, to date, most comfortable. I inspected several flats that would not serve my purposes, then moved into the bottom tier. I returned to London alone and had the most agreeable time since departure. This time I did not seriously think about return. I made a final illegitimate purchase in Camden with full appreciation that I do not wish to again. Finally, a trip was booked to Germany. A large proportion of this year was spent in a concerted effort to know Deutsch. Trouble did not cease once leaving Lothian Road. It followed me in form of collection agencies, irritating flatmates and general chaos. Though they aren't really my concern. Its a little like the crises simultaneously developing. The distressing evidence points to the subject matter I have aimlessly discussed for at least the past three years, now it filters into the mainstream. People without an interest in politics are questioning their beliefs or the lack thereof. In October I missed the Cold war kids in Glasgow due to waning interest. I did make a down payment for the Glastonbury festival but realistically I wont attend. My interest was focused on what was to happen in our second Great Depression and who would take over the sinking ship's helm. I believe I share in great relief that Obama won. His job is well and truly cut out for him but improvement is not difficult. The legal aspect of this year came to the fore unexpectedly in November. Being arrested was not on my to do list. Twists and bends features quite often throughout this year. Other than that, November turned out to be a good month. The beginning of December marked three years that I have lived in the United Kingdom. It also represents the continuation of the longest time that I have abstained from smoking since inception. Although I have always hoped I would try, I did not think it would eventuate. This month I have booked a second expedition to Deutschland in late April, I will also head in an opposite direction. I have worked at the same place for the longest period of any vocation here, it still remains painful. Mid December I missed the third paid act of the year, Eskimo Joe turned out to be on the wrong night. Despite not juggling everything as cohesively as I might hope, things ended reasonably this year. I have been swimming each week. Many of the problems that have existed for the past three years simply can not happen where I reside. It hasn't been without bumps but I get the impression I will be hard pressed to maintain my transient ways for another twenty four months. Portishead Third is the most surprising and welcome musical instalment of this year and I was most filmically influenced by Into the wild. There were many moments in the latter part of this year where I could have packed everything in and done something else quite happily. Some of the urges that diminished last year are close to dissipation. My interest remains strong in music but my priorities are reshaped. The creations of this year have generated energy in continuing along that path for a little longer. That in itself has been the most profound revelation. My past receded more so than ever in these twelve months. Having done so much now with worriedaboutnothing and The Point©, I feel like I have arrived where I was supposed. Three years have passed quickly and I do not see the next two going any slower. I am itching for the next phase but intent on utilising time best between now and then. This was a year of perplexing drama internally and much more so externally. It is almost like I was not the most interesting thing in the world. Governments, corporations, people and just about everything else seemed to be contorting like metal in the grip of the machine that crushes cars. Working so closely with culprits of this impending catastrophe is quite a revelation. They are oblivious to causing their own calamity and seem to think that complicity is not responsibility. Share price where I work alone has lost more than seventy five per cent of its value in one year. I now almost work for the government. The only person able to admit to the severity was the Chairman of our subsidiary. At the beginning of October he stated that the reluctance of financial institutions to lend money to one another would have, within days, lead to the downfall of the West. There was no exaggeration. All around people seem confused as to concepts which they will become familiar. Socialism, nationalising, recession, unemployment, inflation and devaluation are terms to become as common here as in undeveloped countries. Right now I am watching the diminishing rate of exchange between the British pound and the Euro. The price of oil is back to a fictional level. Any rationale the world had to expedite the transition to clean energy sources has temporarily relented. Political dynamics are like geological change, if it happens in a short period of time, expect repercussion. Whatever began over the past twelve months will well and truly materialise over the next few years. To go from cruising to extraordinary turbulence in such a short period of time confounds. This year feels like it took its toll. Trouble came looking and I have been reminded that when faced with overwhelming adversity complete defiance is the only recourse. Diving, Germany and Mexico are the only words accentuating my prospective. There is great relief that this year has concluded and understanding that a year overcoming difficulty holds more value. Twists and bends to the very last minute.