I have a trip to Florence planned for this Fall so I am reading about the Renaissance. Looking into how it actually started, a number of things occur to me.
Firstly, that it’s possible to have your own personal renaissance. Secondly, that this is probably a really good thing to do. And thirdly, that global economic conditions for a personal renaissance have never been better in your entire lifetime.
So read on!
One day soon, you too could have your own bird in a hat and some puffy shorts that attract small dogs.
How These Things Begin
The proper Renaissance was very much a ‘right place, wrong time’ kind of deal… Much like our modern world is today. See if this sounds familiar.
Italy was struggling to come to terms from the biggest global disaster in the history of European civilisation: The Black Death. For…
The thing about the future is that it always seems off in the distance. Oliver Wendell Holmes said “old age is fifteen years older than I am”. It’s like that. Which is how they both sneak up on you, of course.
I remember giving a talk in Wellington to a bunch of screenwriters about the future of scripted content a couple of years ago. The exact date escapes me because I am into my ninth day of severe ManFlu and can only just remember how to exit my tiny, unruly bedroom to refill my water bottle for the fiftieth time. Hence possibly, the reason for a trippy post about the future and its many disappointments.
The talk described a time when long-form TV content will be available via YouTube when and wherever the audience wanted it; on a mobile phone, on a small laptop in a cafe…
Because the Met Office once again swung and missed with its weekend weather prediction (flooding), I opted not to take my camera with me on a little overnight trip to Brighton.
Of course, this meant that the Monday turned into the warmest day of the year with beautiful blue skies and an English Channel that didn’t look like it was 43% human feces.
So these are phone photos. But Brighton is cute and fun and I can’t wait for Phil to get his act together and move into a permanent home down there with a spare bedroom.
I just can’t escape the feeling that the Victorians didn’t really understand what a beach was for. So rather than lying in the (rare) warmth, they built large wooden structures out over the water which they walked along; fully clothed; and once they got to the end…
My first recommendation would be to make plans with a one Megan Lloyd, like I did yesterday. Then personally suggest and execute a string of alternative options based along London’s least reliable tube line. Then realise the expedition needs a complete do-over and try again the next day. Creepy Instant nachos optional.
Let’s begin at the beginning.
Megan’s on half-term at the moment and I certainly don’t have anything going on so we arranged to meet on Friday morning at Embankment to entertain ourselves with a little walking tour called ‘Eccentric London‘.
The tour was due to start at 11am so we arranged to meet at 10:20ish, have coffee, and bitch about those of you we both know. I get there bang on 10:20am and immediately start sending ‘funny’ texts about how I’m totally going to leave because Megan hasn’t shown up.
Ahh, the curse that is my life. I am once again trapped in the country for insurance reasons so rather than doing something to alleviate this powerful case of SAD I am constantly complaining about -something like five days in Sharm- instead I opted for something a little closer to home.
Yorkshire. In February.
And not just February. It was officially The Week When Everything Is Closed. Yorvik -which only closes for three days every year- was closed for our three days in York. The Captain Cook Museum in Whitby? Closed. Whitby Abbey? (As seen/read in Dracula.) Closed.
Who do I blame for this? Well, me. Things have to close for maintenance and I’m sure the various managements were thinking “only a true psychopath or someone who has made a string of very poor choices in their life would ever dream of a driving…
Due to a less-than-sudden opening in my diary, I have been busying myself with those digital chores that everyone puts off. Much of this was brought on by hearing a friend’s horror story about her old laptop shuffling off its coils and taking half of her photos and all her music with it.
If you’re wondering, the best way to safeguard against this is a cloud computing.
Get a Pro Flickr account for all your photos (Facebook won’t do. It technically owns the copyright to your photos and also compresses them -meaning you will have shit photos if you ever try to print them out). Unlimited, high-res storage.
Sort yourself out with some online storage for any particularly valuable music files. (Also note iTunes has contingencies for loss of files so if they’re legal be sure to check their site).
‘Backing up files’ physically with external hard drives…
