In cheerier comics news, Tom Humberstone triumphed over sickness of body and soul to complete his 100 Days challenge. It’s an awesome collection, even if I am biased by mutual friendship and cameo appearances. Go read!
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So, yesterday was the half way mark. The Hundred Days project has been quite a blessing at this stage in the year. I knew in November that given the enormous project list 2009 generated I wouldn’t be able to keep up the same degree of pace and momentum in 2010. That said, I didn’t want to focus on any on project to the detriment of being, you know, ‘creative’. Mix that in with the fact I was actually keen to stick notes in public places and you’ve got a recipe for
Meeting people at the Hundred Days event I found a lot who had reached a point where the project swam into focus, taking on a shape beyond its initial significance. That’s amazing, but not a feeling that I’ve felt. I mean, threesixfivestart had so many of those moments that this really couldn’t be the same. I wanted to entertain myself, and maybe a few other people, rather than craft a new body of work.
Am I becoming a better person though? I’m becoming a better writer. There’s a brevity forced by the platform, like writing an essay on the spine of a post-it, and a few times I feel I’ve used to pretty good effect. Anyone finding those better moments finds a story, not a sticky label, and I think I can be proud of that.
Bellies full, we enter the second quarter of the 100Days project today. Good luck to everyone participating with the next 75!
Yesterday’s message was a pretty easy one to go for, but today’s was different. I went for a little wander in the afternoon, along paths I took on an almost daily basis between the age of five and eighteen. I got to that crossing, remembered the moment a fourteen year old me kissed a girl and remembered that the next morning, after a first kiss, I broke up with her.
At this point it started to rain. I hid under a bus shelter and wrote the label, watching news flicker by on a TV screen embedded into the shelter wall. It didn’t want to let up. I remembered then that it had rained when we kissed too, and that was probably the only reason I really remembered it at all: I was soaking, but the kiss made it worth it. The sun peaked from behind the clouds for a moment, and I got this shot off, dashing back under shelter as it started to drizzle again.
I don’t remember her name. I’ve got about as far the initials – TS – but no more. So, TS, I’m sorry. That wasn’t very nice of me.
My Flickr page has some more of the entries from the ATP festival this weekend.