Pea Arts About

This week, I completed my eighth and final session of online Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. My teen years spent chatting inanely to friends on MSN instant messenger trained me well for this strange but hugely positive eventuality. Given the lengthy waiting lists - 13 months, I was told in September - for talking therapies, I was offered live messenger sessions that are more experimental and have a short waiting list. I was tentative because the idea of typing everything out was daunting. But I considered it realistically. Since having a prolonged breakdown four years ago from stress caused by workplace bullying, I have struggled with speaking. If you're aware of my podcast , you might think this strange, but I'm a damn good editor. I salvage decent slivers and piece them into something coherent. In a way, that's what I've always done as a child and now as an adult maker of things and stuff. Maybe I'm in the process of becoming the Hollis Frampton or Chris Marker of ...

Last week my partner and I went to see Clash , an incredibly powerful and immersive Egyptian drama about protestors from different sides of the conflict trapped in a police truck. I highly recommend seeing it. It was screened in the Gallery at the Tyneside Cinema, a small space with only three rows of seats. As the opening credits began, 2 people came in noisily, sat behind us, and proceeded to talk and munch loudly with open mouths on popcorn. They were hardly at the omniplex to see Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 . I cannot abide, or indeed cope with, that kind of noise. My choices were: Move. Why should I? Plus the noise would continue to be a problem, possibly not just for me.   Have an anxiety attack. Why should I? What would it achieve apart from harm to myself and upset to others? Say something about it. I did the latter. I said aloud, ‘Are you going to eat like that the whole time? Because that’s disgusting.’ The first part was sufficient, and raised a murmur of ...