{"id":165,"date":"2013-11-06T12:07:54","date_gmt":"2013-11-06T12:07:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/?p=165"},"modified":"2013-11-06T12:07:54","modified_gmt":"2013-11-06T12:07:54","slug":"happiness-is-a-creative-writing-session","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/2013\/11\/06\/happiness-is-a-creative-writing-session\/","title":{"rendered":"Happiness is a creative writing session…."},"content":{"rendered":"

Following an excellent blog post by Donna<\/a>, I thought I’d post some extracts from our creative writing efforts.<\/p>\n

Extract one:<\/p>\n

I\u2019m writing to you to record moments in your life that have made you happy. It is difficult to decide which moment to write about. What is happiness? What does it mean? What is it? The Beatles sang \u201cHappiness is a warm gun\u201d\u2026 What does that even mean? Which Beatle wrote that song? Possibly John. He was the weird one. <\/em><\/div>\n

\n<\/em><\/div>\n
I don\u2019t think happiness can possibly be a warm gun, it\u2019s got to be something else. It can\u2019t be boiled down into a simple line that starts Happiness is\u2026 It\u2019s more complex than that. Instead, it\u2019s a feeling that spreads across your mind, body and imprints itself on your memory, soul and history.<\/em><\/div>\n

Extract two:<\/p>\n

I find it difficult to decide which time to tell you about, most of them have been and gone, past things of no matter anymore, or maybe things learnt, lessons, hard lessons in resilience and holding on, holding the happiness, the germ of an idea, the where to, and how, maybe.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe baby,\u201d you said to me, over tea (and fags), yuck. A phrase in English learnt and repeated, like ice scream, you scream, and it is a pity that I have to go and go I had to, in the end leaving you with that blank picture of us from the broken photo machine. Cold snow. Where did the love go. Another time, another maybe homecoming. Not welcome here anymore, incarceration\u2026rain, broken sandals flapping dangerously on the escalator, which only goes up, or down. Back, looking, always looking. Jobs I have done. A CV of onwards, sideways, but not ever up. Tunes that have been played, gigs which were done.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Extract three:<\/p>\n

If I were looking for happiness I would be warm with the sun shining and the sky blue\u00a0 and the birds singing \u2013 or by the fire, warm in pyjamas and slippers while the cold wind howled outside. I would be looking to see smiles and hear gentle words spoken; people having an appreciation and respect for one another –\u00a0 tolerance and kindness. I would smell fresh air or lilacs or the scent of sweet peas. I would taste buttered crumpets or toast and jam or strawberries and cream with a sprinkling of sugar. I would see beauty all around, orderliness and comfortable chairs and beds and a great waterfall. I would touch softness and smooth velvet, fur and merino wool, silk and cotton, warm flesh, smooth flesh, youthful faces; the memories I would have are of being read to cuddled up in bed with my Grandma and travelling on a bus with my Auntie on the Calder & Hebble buses. Reading in the big armchair of the world. Walking in the morning to a wood and sketching. Sitting on a wall waiting for a bus singing, \u2018We are poor little lambs that have lost our way.\u2019 Roller skating with Ginny my best friend and dreaming of being World Famous. Planning our futures to Bob Dylan\u2019s \u2018Tambourine Man\u2019 and me sat in the tiny drawing room on Edward\u2019s Road at Auntie\u2019s. <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Extract four:<\/p>\n

Do you remember your seventh birthday party? Your pirate party? You must, it\u2019s difficult to forget. You invited your whole class to a party on a pirate ship where there would be music, cake and activities related to historical events. Do you remember what you learnt, because I don\u2019t?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

About a week before the party, you were talking to your friends and the excitement was building. They said they were going to dress up as pirates, and you told them you weren\u2019t. You were worried you would be the only one at your own party in normal clothes.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Then came the day of the big event. You turned up wearing an eye-patch and a hook on your hand. A convincing pirate. When you started greeting your guests, you began to realise that no one had dressed up.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Extract five:<\/div>\n
\n

I remember being in my garden in my swimming trunks, red and black striped. It was hot, and I would spray myself and my friend Edward with the hosepipe. I must have been about 4 years old and I liked wearing those trunks because they made me feel like a boy. I always wanted to be a man and wear a suit just like my Dad. I didn\u2019t have a suit, but my pyjamas were quite a good substitute, and for hot sunny days like this one I\u2019m remembering the trunks were perfect for making me feel good and blokey. I loved Edward, – we spent all our time together. He was slightly younger so I could bully him and boss him around. He loved it. I had a dog called Flora who we would dress up in my mother\u2019s sunglasses and headscarves and take photos. Actually, Olivia, on second thoughts I may not send you this letter because I\u2019m making myself sound like a cross-dressing weirdo. But still that\u2019s what made me happy when I was 4 and, I suppose, you did ask. Edward and I would take my dog, Flora, hunting for rabbits. She was a Jack Russell. She would make the rabbit holes bigger by digging, then Rosie the dachshund would go in the hole and break the rabbit\u2019s neck. We loved it. Edward would then skin the rabbit and my Mother made rabbit pie \u2013 a real achievement for a couple of 4-year-old hunters. The garden was large and green. There is something about vast swathes of green which lift the heart \u2013 I don\u2019t know why but I\u2019m sure it\u2019s a fact. I think I\u2019ve heard Paul McKenna mention it. One day, me and Edward were pretending to swim on the grass, me in my trunks, and I slid on my stomach over one of Flora\u2019s carefully-placed turds \u2013 that wasn\u2019t so good \u2013 I didn\u2019t love that. When I think back to those times of me and Edward in the garden \u2013 I don\u2019t see that world through my 4-year-old eyes \u2013 I see it more as if I have gone back and visited that world as me now, and I am looking objectively at those two young children playing around in the garden, in the sun. That makes me wonder if what I am saying is accurate or if I have made it all up. I know all those things happened. But did I really want to be a man? And was I really happy? I like to think so.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Extract six:<\/p>\n

I remember\u2026<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

The sand beneath my feet, the grains between my toes, <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Running around, the heat on my skin and the smell of holidays.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

As the waves crash in and the windbreaker is constructed,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

The bat and ball come out and the castles start to appear.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

The taste of mum\u2019s packed lunch, so welcome in the sun,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

The smell of dad\u2019s pipe a constant in my life.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

A backdrop of sand dunes and the pine forest beyond,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Play and laughter as memories are born, <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

The polystyrene surf boards and salt-water mouth.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

The stripes of the windbreaker appeared again this year,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

As the childhood holiday was revisited with my boy in tow.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

The swimming, the games, the BBQ and the cards. Happiness<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

With my family, with more memories born. Watching kites<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

And butterflies and the boats at sea, enjoying<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Those small moments \u2013 time by the sea.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

The Creative Writing Workshops were organised as part of the Mass Observation Archive’s Happiness events<\/a>. These events are part of, and funded by, \u00a0the ESRC’s festival of Social Science<\/a>.<\/p>\n

What makes you happy? Let us know on Twitter #HappyMOA<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Following an excellent blog post by Donna, I thought I’d post some extracts from our creative writing efforts. Extract one: I\u2019m writing to you to record moments in your life that have made you happy. It is difficult to decide which moment to write about. What is happiness? What does it mean? What is it? […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":38,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[117],"tags":[265,259,255,256,4215],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/165"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/38"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=165"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/165\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":167,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/165\/revisions\/167"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=165"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=165"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.sussex.ac.uk\/specialcollections\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=165"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}