Sorry-Not-Sorry For The Lack Of Updates.

Hi everyone!

What an incredible week I’ve had! Lot’s of things to update you all on so get yourself a cuppa, get snuggly in bed or on the sofa and play some Coldplay because I’m gunna express my head full of dreams! (I am aware that was a terrible link but never mind).

As a quick aside, I am currently sitting at the table where I wrote my first treatment for “Our Perennials”. Looking out at the most beautiful garden in existence (biased but true) and watching the thousands of birds, bee’s and butterflies having what can only be described as a nature-rave. Honestly the sound tweets and buzzing is deafening. Little bit emotional as I am preparing to write the final scenes in the place it all started. Seeing how much my characters have changed and the story has developed. It started out as a nice story about a gardener but now it’s this huge, intense frankensteins monster which has taken on a life of its own. It seems as though, now, the story is telling me how to write itself, because it can’t pick up a pen so I have to do it instead. I could have been anyone, I feel privileged that it chose me as it’s vessel. I’m starting to sound like Elizabeth Gilbert (ps. Read ‘Big Magic’ it’s f@cking brilliant).

So I have done many a thing since I last posted. I have been to Godrevy, and made new friends, started writing a sci-fi short film (omg right!), developed and begun writing a short story for a competition, wrote no less than 14 poems, designed social media and develop the website for Camomile Creative – my new writing anthology for all of you lovely lot to submit your own writing to (ready to launch when I get back to Blighty), been to Paris (more on this in a minute) and gone back to my parents house in Breton and am currently waiting until 2pm when I can go and fetch my beloved Poppy from puppy-prison (Kennels). Oh and somehow managed to almost finish a feature script in that time. First draft true. I am wiped out I have to say.

Paris was fantastic. I arrived Thursday morning and had to wait until half one for my parents, although I didn’t know what time they were arriving until about an hour before. I ended up having to wait patiently in a cafe for longer than the eurostar train journey took but it was fine because I ate my weight in chips and wrote stupid poems about how I really needed the loo but was too scared to walk around to find them and the staff couldn’t understand me because my french has a Breton accent and I panicked and started speaking Spanish instead (butchered Spanish, I am a novice). That evening we went for a meal in the Artists Quarter. Beautiful. Everyone was American though.

The following day was BASTILLE DAY!! My favourite day of the french calendar. We watched the parade of the armed forces, but I got my water container confiscated. Also weirdly enough we bumped into the crew from channel 4’s “The last leg” who were being searched to within an inch of their lives by security. Had a nice albeit short conversation with the exasperated cinematographer, who was very sweet and let me be nosy and ask him lots of questions. Then my mum referred to the boom mic cover as “That fuzzy thing” and I lost the small amount of credibility I had left. Funny though.
That evening we watched the concert and the fireworks at the Eiffel Tower. Stunning. Just absolutely brilliant. Try and find a link online and watch it because words cannot describe. Following that, all the tube stations were shut in the local area for some stupid reason so we ended up having to walk about four miles to get to one that would take us back to Garibaldi (like the biscuit but without the raisons). At least it didn’t rain.

Then, Saturday, the best day of my life thus far. Giverny followed by Coldplay.

Giverny is beautiful. Busy AF in July, but that doesn’t matter. Unfortunately we didn’t have much time after the train journey from Paris and the queue’s so I chose to spend it all in the garden. That garden is so beautiful. So many lillies! Not enough alliums for my liking but who am I to question Monet. The garden and the pond have such a beautiful juxtaposition. I mean this in the sense that the garden has been designed and ordered, kept well over the last century, every flower and plant chosen with colour, size, texture in mind. Everything (mostly) is fire coloured which gives the impression of wildness, like a rollercoaster. Made by hands but still wild and thriving, showing off each petal and leaf like “Yeah I see you checkin’ me out Frosh, but I’m too wild for your garden, I am fire incarnate, stick to your pastels and pinks, I am too loud for you”. But then you go through the underpass and out the other side is this tranquil pool of calmness. You follow the stream and it’s darker, cooler tones, lot’s of whites and greens and pastel pinks and then you realise you know what’s round the next bend. There it was, the pond. You can stand on the steps where he painted his (probably) most famous painting of all time and I stood there and cried. Like a baby. In front of all those annoying American tourists who laughed at me (uncultured swines!). Just thinking about it is bringing a tear to my eye. Honestly I cannot describe what actually happened I just got overwhelmed. It was so beautiful. I stood there for a whole ten minutes and wrote a poem about it. The scenery not the fact that I cried over it. That would be almost as sad as the fact I actually cried. What a dork!

Now I need you to do a thing, you’ve made it this far so you might as well. Find “Charlie Brown” and play it.

Coldplay are without a doubt the best band to watch live ever. Without. A. Doubt. I don’t care if you don’t like their music (I don’t see why you wouldn’t but personal taste) you HAVE to go and see them play live. They gave everybody two wristbands that looks like £5 versions of the apple watch with no screens. When they started playing the wrist bands lit up and everyone became a part of the performance. They had fireworks and confetti and that thing that shoots jets of fire into the air. Crazy. And so much colour!!! The whole concert seemed to be this amazing play with colour and lights. As is Coldplay’s USP in a sense. Well, in their video’s and at the concerts I’ve seen on television. It’s interesting because that is a huge focus of what I’ve been writing for this semester. Not so much about light specifically but while I’ve been writing I’ve paused each scene to think about light and colour in a way I haven’t ever really done before. Especially in the tree’s script. I just hope that comes across and I don’t get marked down for unnecessarily going into too much detail. Even so, I think that it’s been an important exploration for me, both in my own work and in other peoples creative work. I’m not exactly Eva Figes, or Monet, or Coldplay, but I’m still a baby in the world really.

Anyway I have to go and get the dogs (mine and my parents) so I will speak soon!

Don’t tread on the flowers,
F x

Ps. Game Of Thrones tomorrow! Excited!


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