What is a kitchen? Well, in essence it is a room or area of a room where one would prepare food to be eaten. You can have an outside kitchen which one might call a ‘Field Kitchen’ or something completely preposterous like that. In a house you have to have a kitchen if you intend to prepare and consume food. Maybe if you just eat all of your meals out at restaurants or in parks or at bus stops then you don’t really have to worry about a kitchen, but you will fin that almost all abodes are designed with a Kitchen included. It’s a funny quirk of human evolution.
But funny quirks of human evolution aside kitchens are very important. How do you build your one? I’ve been looking at some DIY kitchens and it is very exciting. The prospect of DIY’ing your own kitchen and constructing it a la Finsa Home is just very exciting. What I’m excited about is simply the idea of having an idea and then the idea of that idea becoming a reality. Boom, boom, boom!
Don’t you want to build your own kitchen? I mean, come on! It would be amazing to cook and live inside your own creation. The only reason you can have not to do that is fear. And you cannot be ruled by fear!
Have you ever lived in a situation were some inconsiderate or unaware neighbour or house-mate plays music that seeps through your walls and disturbs your life? Well it happens to me a lot, and I find that it somewhat drives me completely insane. I find that I sort of need absolute silence to get to sleep. If there is to be any noise then it at least has to be regular (like the ticking of a clock) so that it can sort of sink into the background so you can forget about it, but even then it can still be very much too much.
So I lay awake at night. This kind of thing can drive you crazy. For me, I don’t really like the confrontation of going and asking someone to turn the music off (i’m sure few do) but what this means is that I just doubly resent them for not only keeping my up but for potentially making me go through the confrontation that makes me feel so uncomfortable. So I get angry with them. Currently, the person putting me through this pain has an especially boring taste in music and I’ve been choosing that as my thing to focus on and on and on and on and get angry about. But the real question is, does the music someone plays through a wall or a floor at you matter? As in, does what the music is matter? Answers below…
So there I was, sat in my car waiting for her to get out. At Edinburgh Airport car parking it is a little strange, you end up quite close to all the cars near you and can, for some reason I think to do with how the air is funneled through the car park and how the building is built, you can just hear everything going on in the car next to you. So I’m sitting there, parked up in my car at Edinburgh Airport, and I can just hear this couple in the car next to me having a blazing, and I mean blazing row. She is screaming in his face and he’s banging his fist on the dash board and screaming right back. You can hear the argument going up and down rhythmically, spluttering and building and falling, one of them taking over and going and going until the other see’s an opportunity and starts biting back, until eventually going on a roll of their own.
So I can hear it all, all the anger and frustration and the feelings of not being understood. So I realise ‘If I can hear what’s happening in there, they can hear what’s happening in here’ So i decide to intervene. But not with my own voice…
Prince – Purple Rain (1984) by retrospective1
But with the voice of his purpleness, Prince. It worked, they got it, and they actually seemed to start making love. That was the power of that man, he was pure humanity, pure sex, pure love, pure joy anguish struggle pain and pleasure. He was Prince, and that day at Edinburgh airport, in that dreary car park, he saved lives.
To be fair to my last neighbours, I’m sure I could be a pain too. I used to have this guy who would come round and give me a massage (I play a lot of sport, maintaining maximum muscle health is absolutely essential) and wow, would I groan when this guy got going. He was just so fantastic at it, you’d forget where the hell you were! And with in a few rubs you’d be making noises you wouldn’t even make in the bedroom! It really was something.
Yeah. By the docks. That’s a sacrifice I make, to make myself a better neighbour, and henceforth a better person. That’s a powerful thing to do. That’s an important thing to do. That’s the right thing to do. Life is full of challenges. And life is full of decisions. And life, more than anything, is mostly empty. Just a long stretch of unimportant emptiness.
“And here’s ANOTHER thing they’re not going to teach you in school kids…”
Yeah, yeah that’s right. It’s all just a load of emptiness. Even the bits that feel full that’s just you trying desperately to fill the emptiness, but it’s all fake. Fake. Fake. Fake. ‘F‘ for fucking Fake.
But there’s no slight of hand here, nor any wink at the end. That’s it.
‘Shut up! There are other people alive in this world!’ I thought that was a little far. I yelled it fairly late at night a few years ago whilst banging on the wall that separates me from my neighbour. They were playing utter crap at 3 in the morning and it was pouring through the wall straight into my life. I wasn’t happy about that, because it was really annoying. Then, miraculously, they stopped. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand then they started again. I went to slam my fist against the wall but stopped, because somehow, through this thick wall, the new song had me. It had me listening with intensity, feeling things. I turned my back to the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. And I laughed. And I cried.
It was somewhat intense. If music playing from another room can really hold you like that music did that day, it is worth something. That is the music we are looking for, all suggestions welcome…