West Coast

Some days and nights, more than others, I miss California. It was something I had wanted for six or more years, and worked towards. I had it fleetingly for two weeks and now – it is gone. I feel like I saw so much, and yet nothing at all. We spent a lot of time in LA – Venice, Universal, Mulholland Drive, Griffith, Santa Monica, Hollywood. I loved LA in the same way I love Brighton – it was so bright and beautiful but simultaneously so trashy and filthy. I have a soft spot for LA. We saw filming locations, studios, famous views. Our trip had a weird and rocky start and although we did cool things in those first few days, we were grateful to be rescued by the sweetest girls in the world. Brianna and Felicia took us in despite meeting us two days previously and showed us the best possible time. We stayed with them in Orange and had a BBQ with Kelly, getting a little tipsy and hiking. I saw all of Orange County and it was beautiful.

The girls took us to Palm Springs for two days of drinking, swimming,  and the desert. It was far too hot and the pool boys were weird but it was magical. Running around at night in the dead heat, wearing white robes and carrying a cane. Desperately searching for ice chips. Running into another guy who also needed ice. Seeing the pool, a fireplace, an outdoor sofa. The hippest hotel in the world. People must have died from overdosing in our room. I hope so. That instant clicking, a feeling of friendship outside with Felicia and Kelly. Laughter. Since I moved to Brighton I have been a little lonely, but I felt this instantaneous connection to these amazing girls. Sitting in a hot tub at night and laughing and swimming dangerously tipsily. Surrounded by mountains. The day was too hot so we bought slushies and went home. Not before stopping off at the side of the road to see the dinosaurs in the desert.

San Diego. Seals, the bay, the rain. Almost driving to Mexico. Running to catch an ice cream truck and sitting on a low wall, reminded of how it wasn’t actually that different to holidays in Wales or Devon. Just a little drizzle. A night much like the one in Palm Springs, swimming in the middle of the mountains. Playing with the floats and taking photographs and running in the road. Saying goodbye outside Kelly’s mom’s, goodbye hugs and ‘I am so glad I met you’. I miss you.

My favourite moments were those that were entirely spontaneous and unexpected. Mostly drives – the canyons, Brianna sharing with us her childhood. Modjeska. The small, mismatched homes hanging off the edge of cliff faces. The sunset from the hills. The lights of the city from above. Anaheim, Santa Ana, Orange. Top of the world – despite protests, we drove to the top and explored a little. We tried to get into a cave but it was illegal.

I have so many memories and I don’t know what to do with them. I get so sad when I realise that my friends are thousands of miles away and California is two months away. I miss it so dearly and I want to see so much more – perhaps the North, next time. I want to drive myself around the desert and the hills and see the lights. For myself.

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California

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Winter

Good God – the trees are bare
and my own bed is damp
every damn morning

The coastal wind is so fierce
it blows my breath
clean from my face
and beats at my cheeks

My dear, with every curled
brown dead leaf
I am dying,
too

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Lorelai Gilmore is a Shitty Mom

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Click through for a new article on februaryfilmandtv – 

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Anywhere but here -
when I was 14 I sat under a bridge
with my feet in a river, cold blue toes
my friend and I watched trains
rushing by through the fields and
I asked myself who was going where
at 1am on a Wednesday night

Were it me I wanted to be
hurrying to the coast
just to drink somewhere else

But now I have the sea
I don’t need to escape the river
the village and the warm cider
my friends and my mother
have never been further

and yet -
I still want something else

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-

This could all disappear
and if you ask / why you’re here
why you left, why it matters
please – go to see the sea
see a man about a boat,
see a captain about a harpoon
and chase a whale

Money matters, a dead weight
above my head from the cradle
old reliable, old destructible
and yet – I am not dead
perhaps the waves and the whale
matter more than the money

Trust the books I want to read
trust in the monster I’m chasing
and the demons I’ve yet to kill
have faith, give time
do not leave me alone
with a sad sailboat

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Autumn

Are you still dead if you see the leaves
if you notice the sea at the end of your street
with every orange leaf I do die – with crisp
autumn death I fall down

When winter rolls in I will be bedbound
a face full of tears and a list of not-dones
and yet I laugh at the kitchen table
with friends, I long for the sunset

so there is every chance – I am not dead
yet

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