Tuesday, 6 July 2010


Out with the old in with the new, my old phone is the source of much hilarity from my friends and family. This week it died. I went to the phone shop and said to the guy serving "I need a new phone and he said "What is your current phone?" I showed him. He very politely said with a smirk that "I needed a new phone 5 years ago". We both really laughed. How rude! So for the next week I am cutting edge but all that know me say that 5 years time I will still have the same phone, battered with war wounds. The up side is that nobody ever wanted to steal my old phone.
How communication has changed.
Do you ever have those days where you momentarily loose your faith in humanity. I did yesterday. How can one man be so unkind to his fellow beings and how a small details can be blown up into catastrophic problems, through mis -communication. It is so horrible to see this happen to people you care for. We only have to watch Big Brother to see how easily it happens. Since leaving University I have always been self employed so I never had the what seems like to me the horror of being employed. I am fortunate in that I get to work in lots of wonderful places, meet incredible people, work hard and the most importantly not get involved in staff politics. Awful destructive places are staff rooms in any shape or form.
I work as an artist with incredibly vulnerable people who live and survive mental health issues, battling their addictions or who are in prison. These people are by far the most interesting people I have met, they communicate their fears, joys and life through their creative practise. So why is it that staff working in these places are so destructive to one another. We are working in the care industry so in some places. Where is the care?
We have never had more ways to communicate in the work place but it seems to be happening less face to face. This is a huge problem as texts and e-mail come without facial expressions, body language and or tone.
We all need to listen more and harder to what people are trying to tell us. Sometimes they can't so we need to really look rather than just see and listen rather than just hear.
Rant over. On the way home my faith was restored by a little note on my car saying "Thank you for the art materials, I sold my painting and I have money for food for the next week." John lives on the streets and is trying to sort his stuff out.

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