I still remember.
I’ve travelled a lot. I’ve lived in a few different cities. I consider myself a lone ranger. I love being on my own, I love traveling on my own and consider myself, now, not to be reliant on anyone but myself. The build up to coming back to the north has been a bit surreal, as it will be the first time in perhaps a year or more that I’ve stuck around for more than a week or so, and can arrange to spend a decent amount of time seeing people I want to see.
It’s funny how much I seem to forget. Like that PSP film I was in that was filmed 6pm to 6am 2 nights in a row at the Baltic in Newcastle, the one that had the amazing launch party and where I was told by one of the producers that he had to get the director sacked for filming me for his own personal use. Incidentally, I never got a copy of that film. The official one, I mean. Either of them! Or that shoot I did in May for free, for a friends company, and never got copies of the images. The one I heard was really successful. I haven’t heard from her since. Remember that 3 car roadtrip we went on with only $150 each, including petrol money? I wish I’d have kept a written and drawn journal from that. Or that time we went to Dublin to see a band, spent the whole night in a pub drinking with some actors and the landlord, who let us stay inside until whenever we wanted to leave. You wanted to sleep on the balcony of the hotel room so pulled the armchair onto it and couldn’t get it back inside in the morning. Driving up to Scotland in the middle of the night, pitch black, pouring rain, freezing cold, smoking a joint while driving while on the phone and accidentally turning your lights off when you tried to get your windscreen wipers working again. Remember that? I almost forgot. Almost forgot that I thought I was going to die that night.
This week has made me realize how random things and events are. The people I still see, the people I wish I could still see, the people I wasted my time with. Documenting things is something I’ve stopped doing. It puzzles me to think of how many photos other people have of me, in the background of some family photo shoot. There are things I’ve done, people I’ve known, that I’d like to keep some memento of. I have 3 or 4 shoe boxes in my bedroom of flyers, tickets, trinkets I’ve found on journeys. But nothing has been added for a while. Therefore I propose to myself that, from now on, I’m going to keep a journal for the times I spend away from home. If only for myself, so I still remember.
words Leah Wilson