Today, June 25th, in 1951 the first commerical colour telecast took place as CBS transmitted a one-hour special from NYC to four other citites. Who doesn't love colour television? Big-up CBS.
In other broadcasting news, I have to admit to naughtily post-timing the blogs, because often it's the wee hours of the next day and I can't possibly write about my day, but I'm excusing myself because I need to time each day as the day I celebrated, all for the sake of the blog. So there you go.
So tonight I went to Christie & Ramon's after-party for their beautiful wedding. And it was the first test of my new-found sobriety. After Friday night made me feel terrible from just three drinks, I decided to cut-down drinking as close to cutting-out as possible. Apart from the fact that it doesn't mix well with my medication (yes, I said it) drinking a depressant when trying to combat depression isn't exactly the best of methods (though I'm certain many a person has tried). The only good part of Friday night was running into a friend Mina, who'd moved to NYC and we spent the day at the beach together. The party was fantastic and I danced until my feet practically bled (but the fact that after a year and 2 months without heels at all, that I can now dance in them for hours, I have to keep celebrating). Pictured is myself with, Ed, who went to grad school with the lovely couple. (Update: The other photos is an official photo from the wedding taken by Alex Masters).
Today was a day for progress, and not just for my viewing pleasure. In 1978 the Rainbow Flag made it's first appearance in the San Francisco Gay Freedom Parade. And in 1993 Kim Campbell was chosen as leader of the Progressive Conservative Party of Canada, becoming the first female Prime Minister of the country.
Today is also the day, in 2009, that the world lost Michael Jackson. Celebrating his life is an easy task. Choosing which music to share?....A very difficult task. So I'm harking back to childhood memories and sharing Smooth Criminal with the introductory scene from "Michael Jackson Moonwalker" which I used to watch obsessively over and over again. Loved that film.
I have been in hiding. I spent years on this blog revealing my truth, but then I became trapped. I somehow began to believe that I couldn’t share my reality anymore and that belief imprisoned me. It imprisoned me at a time when my mind had become a madman and was living to torture me. Haunted by the continuous splatter of sounds that were crunched, smashed, thrown together and weaved with a poisonous thread; a ricochet of memories, feelings, thoughts and voices. A downright cacophony of crazy. Photo: Nicola Muirhead So, I shared. Six weeks ago, I took to social media and finally expressed how the last 18 months of my life had truly been in a post called “The Street Fight”: “It’s been several months since I’ve posted. In the mental health narrative, we love stories of rebirth, renewal and redemption. We watch the phoenix burn and we are inspired when we see that phoenix rise from the ashes, but we rarely bear witness to what happens in between. Brene Brown calls
'Hidden Damage' Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen Kintsugi ("golden joinery" or "golden repair") is the Japanese art form of repairing broken pottery with gold. It treats the breakage and repair of the item as part of its history, its journey, its existence. Rather than hiding the damage, it brightly illuminates the repair, inviting the world to see its improved beauty. Just like pottery, we humans can crack, splinter, break, shatter. These knocks remain part of our being and, whilst a brave face might create a temporary disguise, nobody can hide forever. At least I couldn't. To heal, I found I had to expose. Kintsugi treats the crack as merely an event in the life of the object, not a reason to end it. Kintsugi knows that something is more beautiful for having been broken. As someone who considers them
It’s 24 days into 2018 and I’m only now sharing my new year’s resolutions. I am, however, giving myself a pass because mine aren’t just for one year, they’re for 26. Since university, I haven’t planned my life more than a few months ahead. I thought I was a free spirit, but I now believe it was indicative of the opposite – one caged by fear. One that’s scared to plan and be disappointed; terrified to make goals, in case I miss the goalposts. The letter A is for... x While I had an incredible past year of achievements, I experienced something akin to daily stress fractures on my brain, which created fissures and cracks in my mind triggering mania and depression in rapid cycles. Now, I have chosen to unlock the cage: I’m committing myself fully to my creative endeavours all while travelling wherever this wild spirit finds itself drawn to, because that spirit was slowly dying. I was not in a good way. Now, here I am with the vastness of life stretched out before me. These e
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