The Wishbone Alphabet – an experiment, of course, with attitude, life and the eponymous soup.
I use the word ‘experimental’ to embody my approach to life so far. I mean it in an avant-garde rather than scientific sense. In balance, I write a very organised shopping list based on an orderly meal plan; being experimental isn’t a licence to act continuously on impulse. Assessment and learning are part of it too. Or am I being too subjective? Maybe I am simply glamorising contrariness?
I rejected the idea of a regular Saturday job as a youngster, for I valued my time above all material things, so I sat on the beach in my second hand clothes, eating cheap sandwiches.
I played with the idea of not going to school, not being a fan of rules, but I liked learning so I decided to amble along that path for a while.
A weekend in Dublin, before starting my exciting degree, produced a daughter. I practised being a mother and then thought it might be a good thing to reintroduce formal education, so I earned myself a teaching degree.
I then promptly rejected a sensible career, in the spirit of avoiding any further staff room conversations about sell by dates on yoghurt, and finding out what happens when you don’t have a life ruled by a career (turns out you don’t have much money, and can often be consumed by the need to keep a roof over your family’s head, but you can spend time on the beach/in a field, wearing second hand clothes and eating cheap sandwiches.)
It will only be a success if I lie on my deathbed (or futon, or divan, or roadside verge) and feel satisfied. Imagining life closing down, what do I think of? I try it and the preliminary results are encouraging, and rather filmic.