Is She?

My break is almost over. It's been three weeks to the day since my dissertation deadline passed and I haven't touched university work since - it's been great. In that time I've had a relaxing week away beside the sea, resolved to make a decent go of improving my German in the summer and rediscovered my interest in poetry. I started writing poetry towards the end of high school and was quite productive between then and the middle of second year at university when it just disappeared from my life. Until this afternoon I hadn't penned a single stanza for two years. 

It felt good to be creative with something again and to get my hands dirty with structure and story telling. Today I remembered how much I love writing poetry and I thought I would share that with you in this post. Underneath I've included an audio of me reciting the poem which I've called 'Is she?'. Hope you enjoy it. 

A day pined for, a day now gone.

A hop, a grape and repeat –

as long as I stand, hit me neat.

Stunned. Stranger yet familiar;

familiar but I’m strange

like that.

I admit: I see you in her, and her in you.

Make it stop, help me start:

another round?

And around we go. Sit and watch and talk and

I will show,

show nothing new, not to you.

For you know my type:

light and loud, heavy and

Quiet.

Is she? I don’t even know her name.

Cheers,

Martin

My Favourite Wikipedia Page

Wikipedia gets bad press. From day one at university we were told, in no uncertain terms, that it is the devil's source and should not be used in any academic work. Consequently, when you tell someone that you found your information (whether that be about how many goals Liam Fox scored for Livingston or the names of the Queen's corgis) on Wikipedia, they scoff. Granted, I'm sure that, overall, Wikipedia comes quite short of being 100% accurate, but you would be lying if you said you don't use it at least a hand-full of times a week.

Once you get past the prejudice against the great online encyclopedia, you can start to enjoy it. Away from the likes of BuzzFeed and Facebook, there is a world of knowledge out there waiting to fill the hours you should be using for other things - knowledge gathering procrastination, you might call it. Anyway, this morning I searched for something I've been meaning to for a while and found what I can comfortably term my favourite page on Wikipedia. Guess I should tell you about it then?

Dissertation Reflections

Dissertation and idleness. Those are the two extremes on what has very much been a sliding scale of emotions and productivity for me over the last couple of months. Before the idleness, however, came the 'Big D' and I think that enough time has elapsed for me to be able to properly reflect on it.

It was a curious experience for me. The biggest hurdle was getting over the disappointment of not enjoying my dissertation as much as I thought I would. When I set out to 're-think liability for defective products' back at the start of fourth year, I had the genuine belief that I could make a valuable contribution to the product liability debate. I set myself up for a fall. 

Questioning, Questioning - Another Guest Post

And so to the second guest blog of the day. Having, I'm sure, enjoyed Iain's post earlier, this post will set another interesting thought process in motion. I've had a great time with the work that I have been sent today and I hope it will encourage others to write their own stuff. The writer of this post has asked to remain anonymous. 

Having volunteered, somewhat over-enthusiastically, to author a guest post for Martin I faced the problem of actually coming up with something to write about. This is one area that normally I have no trouble with - I can ramble on about anything and everything. However when looking at what I would like to talk about I hit a brick wall.  

The inspiration eventually came in the form of a couple of podcasts that I have been listening to recently. The podcasts themselves are not wonderful works of art or a lesson in editing but rather are the discussions of two individuals talking about a range of topics that take their fancy. My listening to them has posed one of the most perplexing questions I have thought about recently: the question of asking questions.

This is not going to be a discussion of a major logical challenge posing issues of regression in relation to questions. Instead I simply query why we don’t always ask the difficult questions?

My Renaissance or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Everything - A Guest Post

It's like Christmas - only better. Today two very good friends of mine wrote some great content for a couple of guest posts. As you will see tonight their writing is great and it's a privilege to be entrusted with some important and personal messages. I hope you enjoy reading them both as I have. The first is by someone who even I am dwarfed by when it comes to thinking about thinking. Enjoy. 

The notion of starting with just a title is one which has always appealed to me. Well, I’m not sure if it’s a matter of appealing or more a matter of the alternative being much less attractive. You could spend an infinite amount of time planning and crafting a perfect sentence that could sum up your life in a way which conveys whatever emotions and experiences you’ve gained from it, but even if I managed to do just that, I don’t think I would be satisfied. 

For me it has to be about the journey. 

The process of documenting my life is one that I began the summer of 2011. Granted, I only get the chance for reflection when my desk isn’t covered in various papers – so not very often – but reflection still remains a big part of my day-to-day life. How I reflect is a bigger issue. I like to be able to discover things about myself. To sit and not know what I’m going to think about, or write about and through this process find out what’s important to me; to pinpoint that one thing that happened today that made me happy. 

This post is going to be a discovery for both of us.

This is getting a bit heavy already. Come, sit down by the fire, pour yourself a fruit-based drink. Let’s talk.

Valentine's Day Through the Years and Through the Day - Part 2

So you've read part one and you're back for more - I'm starting to think people agree with my views? Today wasn't quite what I had in mind in terms of field research by I think I've made a sufficient number of observations today to get this post rolling. Mixed with my 'message for the year', what lies ahead should be good.

Valentine's Day Through the Years and Through the Day - Part 1

Nothing has changed. 

I spent the morning reading through my previous Valentine's day rants and watching some previews for today's skeleton final at the Winter Olympics. Those might seem far removed but there are parallels to be drawn. First of all, both facilitate the (voluntary) falling on one's own face. Both will captivate the whole country today, ending in either sheer elation or misery. And - most importantly given the nature of my posts over the years - both are mental.

This year I've decided to take a different approach to this post - which is apparently the 'only post people look forward to' on my blog. I am going to write a little this morning, head out for my normal day and observe. Think of me as the David Attenborough of blogging, or, at the very least, that odd nature guy from the One Show. 'And now we see an obliged young man picking through the last of the flowers as he heads home from work'; 'This gentleman baulks as he prices his wife's favourite chocolates, settling instead for the easy prey that is the reduced box of Roses'. I'm going to have fun with this.

Classic Me to Classical Music - The Short Journey to Being Boring

This blog could not get any more boring. For the most part I agree with that statement because my writing over the last year or so has taken a turn for, what one might call, the philosophical - or just downright rubbish. Long gone are the days when I would sit down twice a week and make a fool of myself for the entertainment of others. Admittedly that was not the aim of my writing, but in hindsight I can't help but feel that my weekly log of embarrassment brought smiles to more faces that I care to think. 

Nostalgia Continued - My Brief Glance at Ramblings of a Teenager

I've not been writing enough recently, or at least I'm not writing the stuff that I want to be. The final semester of university (or at least undergraduate) is starting to swallow up all of my waking hours, with very little time for myself in between library sessions. Tonight, therefore, I am happy to say that I have found a moment to sit down and relax with a beer and some good television - finally got around to watching last weekend's Musketeers! 

Of course I can't be working all of the time. I have pretty good staying power and focus when I want to, but I am also a pretty astute procrastinator when the right distraction comes along. Tonight I want to tell you about another trip down memory lane that I took this week. It seems that every post that I write just now it looking in my past, but I suppose that's what an impending end does to people.

Elvis Will Save the Day

Until about ten minutes ago this was going to be a post about stress and frustration - I'm glad I waited. I just found out my first exam result of fourth year and I did better than I thought I would - a lot better. The feelings of uncertainty and anxiety about university and finishing up me degree have, for the moment at least, melted away - my furrowed brow morphing into creases from the smile on my face. 

I'm going to write my original post anyway, but it will have a more optimistic tone about it now. I've been making life tough for myself recently and this weekend it has come to a head. I've neglected my university work over the last few days, with socialising and procrastination getting in the way of things a little. I've also made a couple of bad judgment calls recently which have seen me question where the old Martin has gone - and whether he will come back again. So with these thoughts sloshing around in my head, I knew I needed to go somewhere I could get better again; somewhere where everything I need is in one place. That place is the work of Elvis Costello.