Polywobbles

Poly Means Many: There are many aspects of polyamory. Each month, the PMM bloggers will write about their views on one of them. Links to all posts can be found at www.polymeansmany.com. It was an odd time for the best of reasons.   I was happy with my life, embracing changes to my lifestyle and enjoying the exploration of new ideals, new friendships, a whole new scene. Kirsty and I had been together for a over a year and, having both come out of long term relationships we had started, tentatively, talking about polyamory, open relationships and the variations that are available. It helped that we know some people who are poly and had a basic understanding of how things could …

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My beautiful Geisha

Many years ago my Mum, an avid crafter, completed two large tapestries depicting Japanese Geisha. From the moment I saw them I loved them and they kick-started my fascination with Japanese culture. I loved the style of them, the scenes they depicted and the era they represented. They hung in my parents living room for many years and I’ve always coveted them. Recently, my parents sold the ‘family home’ to downsize and as part of the decluttering my Mum asked if I’d want the tapestries. I’m still not sure she realises how much it means to me to have them; memories of my childhood, the house I grew up in with the ever present needles and threads in one corner …

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Deconstructing my tattoo

Some people get tattoos because they think a certain design or image looks good, some tattoos are about collecting art from an admired artist, and some tattoos are chosen because they have meaning or intent. Most of my tattoos fall into the latter camp but I’ll admit that the first two tattoos I got, many years ago, were purely because I thought it was cool and ‘different’ (which, to be fair, it was at the time). More recently though I’ve considered my choices a lot more. I hadn’t planned on getting a half-sleeve done when I went in to Lucky Cat. I was there on the recommendation of a friend who already had some of Kev’s work on her arm, …

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My time as a Clydesider

‘A life changing experience’, is something we were told during our induction. ‘Exhausting but rewarding’, ‘it’ll stay with you for a long time’ and so on. It was all a bit superlative heavy and a little bit unbelievable. It’s been a couple of weeks since my involvement in the Commonwealth Games ended and since then I’ve been reflecting on the experience, but I’ll admit that I’ve been struggling to put my thoughts and emotions into any sort of verbiage that didn’t include many superlatives. I kept a small journal to remind me of it and I’ve pulled some of that into this, an overly long post about my experience as a Clydesider. Day One What a fantastic day!! Full of …

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Glasgow 2014

Like millions of people around the world I tuned in to watch the London Olympics and I loved every single minute of it. It was fantastic, I cheered and yelled along, shedding tears as I got caught up in the emotion and excitement, punching the air as the British athletes won medal after medal after medal. Every now and then the TV coverage would spotlight the Gamesmakers, the volunteers who smiled, laughed and danced their way through the entire thing, and I can still remember seeing them and thinking ‘I bet that was loads of fun!’. So, when I heard that the Glasgow Commonwealth Games were looking for volunteers, I jumped at the chance to be part of something similar. …

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Writing without process

I like to write. I like the process of it, the act of it if you will, I enjoy the space my brain floats into when I start writing. Ever since I first used a computer there is a part of me that still marvels at the way I can watch words appear on the screen as I tap them out on a keyboard. My approach to writing varies. Sometimes I’ll be inspired to write in response to something I’ve read or heard elsewhere. I used to do more of that, my archives are littered with one line/one paragraph responses, but for some reasons I’ve moved away from that. Sometimes I have some vague idea of what I’ll write about …

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Different Journeys

The older I get the more aware I become of the truth that drives the many and varied philosophical cliches that pepper my day. They are so frequent and so subtle, and are usually delivered as a passing thought, that they barely register. But at present one seems to be stuck in my head and is becoming increasingly noticeable – the same way, I guess, that whenever you buy a new car, suddenly there are loads of them around – it’s the one about acknowledging that life is a journey and that the journey is more important than the destination. I like to plan. At any given point in the day I’ll know what I’m doing next and likely have …

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Time for a change

A couple of years ago I ‘closed’ my other blog. The one that few of you probably read as it was about my, then, profession of technical communications. I’d moved to a new role and decided it was good to draw One Man Writes to a close. I merged the posts from that blog and my ‘diary’ site, One Man Blogs, into what you see today. My current job title is Product Operations Manager, it’s a mix of project management, process management and general dogsbody. As such it doesn’t really feel part of a ‘community’ the same way my old role was, so I didn’t see the need for a separate blog. However, in the last few weeks I’ve accepted …

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Currently Pondering

Whilst I have other blog posts brewing, the following topics are all swirling in my brain (in a good way) so I thought I’d jot them down for posterity (mine, not yours). Glastonbury We didn’t make it this year. I’ve been swithering between not being bothered (from a line-up point of view) and being very bothered and a little bit miffed and upset, mostly though I wish we’d managed to get tickets. Yes it was raining and muddy but I did miss just being part of it. Tattoos I received a rough sketch for my next tattoo which starts on Friday, a new artist but her work is great and I’m really looking forward to it! More than a little …

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With apologies

It feels like a compulsion, a nagging itch that I can’t seem to cure buried away deep under my skin. Sometimes I’ll scratch and scratch and scratch at it until it’s raw but the desire is never fully sated. I’ve tried ignoring it too, pushing it to the back of my mind in the hope that somewhere, somehow, my subconscious will figure it out for me. I’ve fed it sparingly at times, hoping that would be enough to keep it from bubbling to the front of my brain, I’ve tried to starve it, hoping it might die off quietly. I’ve tried to force fed it, filling it with every tiny moment I can, but that just felt cruel. I should …

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