Monday, 31 August 2015

You Can't Hold Me Down, 'Cause I Belong To The Hurricane


I've been trying to work out whether it is perhaps a phobia or the complete opposite, but for as long as I can remember, I've possessed an acute, crippling awareness of the passing of time.

In my first ever blog post on Scarphelia three years ago, I wrote: 

'What if I continue to procrastinate and then one day realise that never will I ever now be able to do the things which I could have easily have done when I was younger?'

Friday, 28 August 2015

'Don't Grow Up, It's a Trap'


Yesterday began as a bit of a downer.

Consulting our finances delighted to inform us that we were closer to flat broke than ever before, even with the penpal project, as each new purchase only seemed to just about cover of the previous package.

We spent the majority of the day cooped up inside drawing and writing, too broke to go to our regular coffee shop and soak up the inspiring atmosphere whilst working on our pieces.

By late afternoon we had as well as succumbed to cabin fever, and realised we needed to get out.

But you know, walking down the block and seeing the Empire State Building surrounded by it's glittering counterparts making up the Manhattan skyline right before your eyes, has a funny way of brightening even the worst moods.

Wednesday, 26 August 2015

Downtown Barfly Prophecy


The smoky air of semi-drunken musicians mingle into the warmth of the summer night sky. 

"So what brings you to New York?" 

The girl in the hat next to me turns and asks, the brim casting a shadow across her face. She cocks her head almost imperceptibly to the right and her left eye escapes the shade. Her gaze twinkles with curiosity. 

"What doesn't," I laugh, unwilling to get into the whole bombastically long-winded tale of how these two British kids ended up in the basement bar in Bushwick, Brooklyn at that precise moment in time which allowed us to meet.

Saturday, 22 August 2015

The Young & The Penniless: How To Make Everything from Nothing


I'm sat on the floor of our apartment in Brooklyn, an open Kilner jar in front of me.

With a tinkling crash I upend the contents of the jar onto the varnish wood floorboards and begin slowly and meticulously sifting through it into separate jars for quarters, dimes & nickels, and pennies. 

With the change sorted I move on to counting out those little green notes into corresponding piles, before coming to our final total.

Thursday, 20 August 2015

Saying You’re Controversial Is No Substitute For Being Interesting


Hi, Will Lloyd of the tab, I edited your article for you. You're welcome x x x 


' You’re not Katie Hopkins hun ok?
So this is it: the persona-personality binary is collapsing and a brave new world is dawning, populated by those who are utterly, lavishly at ease with shouting about their #unpopularopinions.
According to a recent survey 49 per cent of people aged 18 to 24 chose a position other than content and unimposing in their opinions.
And in this new social utopia the old categories – intellectuals, columnists, debaters – are eroding, collapsing and becoming something else. Now you can be a “non-conformist hyper-cynic”, part of a “forward-thinking movement” where anyone can define themselves whatever way they see fit. It’s an open and equal society where anything goes and everyone’s accepted.

Tuesday, 18 August 2015

W A K E


I'm standing inside the Hayden Planetarium in The American Museum of Natural History inside Central Park. The lights dim inside the giant dome, soft music begins to swell and beneath me, I watch as slowly our world falls away beneath our feet. 

It becomes a dinner plate, a tennis ball, a penny, before disappearing completely, and constellations and galaxies tear past us at the speed of light. One hundred thousand, one million, one billion light years in the blink of an eye.

Wednesday, 12 August 2015

The Archive of Human Adventure


On the 20th March 2015, I found myself stood upon a glacier in the Icelandic wilderness, miles from civilisation, watching the universe align in the sky above.

I never blogged about my trip to Iceland, which was a simultaneous regret and a confident choice. I always struggle to write about holidays or fantastical experiences after I've returned from them. Like Kim Gordon wrote in her memoir:

 'It's hard to write a love story with a broken heart.' 

Monday, 10 August 2015

The Second Chapter: The Bushwick Days


Well, dang. We actually gosh darn did it.

Three nights before Greg's arrival, I left the boat for good. After a week of seemingly never-ending hell from Victoria and torturous misery aboard the boat, I packed my bags and escaped in the middle of the night to hold up at my safehouse in Manhattan, Chloe's apartment, where I spent the rest of the week gratefully on her sofa. 

Friday, 7 August 2015

'So... You Got a 2.1?'




If, like many others, you have just finished a three year stint at one of the UK’s many ~fine institutes of further education~ then you will no doubt have recently received your final degree classification.

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

The Ballad of The Misplaced Man


It's a fact I have proclaimed from the rooftops since I first came to be here;

Nothing has been a greater surprise, delight and inspiration to me during my adventure in New York City, than the completely unexpected kindness and friendliness of strangers.