Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Friday 10 October 2014

love has now become more like a plague.

It is a new rage here in Malta.  People in love, buy locks put their names or initials and paddock them to structures.  Perhaps, in an age of transitory relationships such locks symbolise a statement of solidity.  Tattoos are a more visual demonstration of affection and harder to eradicate than marriage in some ways.  How many Daves have tattooed ‘I love Mary’ on their chest only to find years later, they cannot stand Mary and would laser her off the planet as they do their unwanted tattoo.  As, I wander around the rusting love tokens in Malta it is plausible that some would now, with the benefit of hindsight, like to take a chainsaw to remove all evidence of their past liaison.  However, there is something sweet about the desire to so visibly proclaim ones love.  It is after all a beautiful spot to visit.



How better to cement a romantic walk than with a lock and physical statement of your closeness. 

Once you return home from holiday you will be able to imagine your token here forever.  Rusted but strong despite the elements.



While rain pours down in northern climes you can picture your lock on the beautiful coastline beside a statue proclaiming LOVE in capitals.  What is more appropriate?



The desire has spread along the coast to one of the loveliest places with a clear view of the medieval city Valetta across the harbour.  In fact, what began as an innocent declaration of love has now become more like a plague.

Official signs warn that such tokens will be removed if they are placed on the sides.  All to no avail.  Lovers fear no such restrictions.  Having bought their lock in suitably thick metal they search for a noble location to claim.  Buying a small lock obviously denotes meanness or a lack of devotion, so the right love token is critical.  Some proclaim full names of both parties, as if in a wedding certificate, other prefer initials, keeping things semi-secret but also half proclaimed. 




In this copycat world once a trend is begun it develops a life of its own.  Officialdom has learned to play a cautious game.  


Too 'Big Brother' in tone creates a reaction that is worse than the first gambit.  Better by far to accommodate the madness and let it blow it’s self out.  Already, placing a lock amidst the hundreds of others has begun to appear just a little pointless.  


Are the couple not just one of many, all with the same dumb idea?  Another depressing thought is how many times have one or more of the partners already placed a lock with an alternative named partner?  Isn’t a lock much cheaper than a bunch of flowers, meal out or even a card?  Then, there is the worrying notion that a ball and chain have long been associated with an unhappy pairing.  Locks and chains have long been bedfellows, who knows what inner symbolism is being conveyed?  It is frightening to confirm the practice is worldwide and spreading faster than an infectious disease.


Prague



Poland



Germany


 Sigh....I will say no more!

Thursday 15 November 2012

My first Love


You can look back at relationships and see in hindsight the first hairline cracks.  You didn’t see them at the time but passion has blinkers.  Veils are gradually lifted, you not only get to know a bit more about yourself (there are veils between us and our own hearts after all) but also you see the people you know with different eyes.  This applies to other aspects of your life as well, like careers.  Looking back through the wreckage of my physics career many things have become clearer.

I hated physics at school, loathed it, in fact.  But I’d read enough about the subject to know that the awful tedious physics one ploughs through in class, bears little relation to the beauty of relativity, our galaxies, sub atomic particles etc and the practical applications for all that knowledge.  To me it all felt pure and noble – a search for truth.  Having good enough grades in every other subject, bar physics, I managed to get into university to study what I loved.  My physics degree was fun and I sailed through with a 1st class degree.  I started my PHD and was lucky enough to get a CAST award, which involved working in the prestigious Royal Signal and Radar Establishment (RSRE) in Malvern for a month every year.  During this month, I was put up in a lovely health farm and the healthy food, regular walks in the Malvern hills and physics research was a heady combination for me. 

The first cracks appeared when the Duke of Edinburgh came to the site, to give the RSRE an award for excellence in industry.  His security people, refused me entrance to the site that morning.  Somewhat bewildered, I was forced to spend the day outside in the hills and not cooped up in a lab with experiments.  No big deal, but the next day everyone including my supervisor was enraged on my behalf.  Apparently, being from Northern Ireland and technically a visitor, my presence constituted a threat to the royal party.  So, despite having security clearance and badges etc I was deemed too dangerous.  It’s quite amusing really and I could see the funny side of it.  Which was more than my fellow colleagues did.

Then, I did something which angered my supervisor.  That year, I married, despite being half way through my PHD.  His annoyance was not the distraction a marriage might bring but it was that my husband was from the Middle East.  At that time, relations between that region and Britain were as challenging as that between Britain and Ireland.  So my working in a Ministry of Defence centre like RSRE was causing him a major headache.  My security rating plummeted and that month I had to wear a red badge on site and was accompanied at all times by a security guard!  It all felt very ridiculous, my work was not rocket science.  All I did was study the metal-semiconductor interfaces and try to understand what was going on. 

In order to get rid of possible contaminants (which would complicate things) my experiments were done in an ultra high vacuum.  To make sure that these surfaces were totally clean, I cleaved them inside the vacuum.  Then, in this totally clean environment with a freshly exposed semiconductor surface I gradually evaporated down metals and studied them.  As I say, not rocket science, but while I was experimenting with antimony ( a metal), over in the USA, theorists were modelling how this metal would behave on my particular semiconductor and blow me down, my experimental results exactly matched their predictions.  It was particularly heartening as this happened independently; neither knew what the other was doing.  Science is lovely when something like this happens.  You really get the sense of a breakthrough of sorts.  A jump in understanding.  It may have been one particular interface but it felt like it was all exciting stuff with my papers published and presented. 

Given my security rating, however, my marriage was a real headache for my supervisor and he complained bitterly.  Exasperated by his nagging I told him my husband’s family were in the oil industry and really rich.  This he understood immediately and he dropped his belligerent attitude.  Mid conversation his objections melted away and a tone of respect was suddenly engendered towards me.  Ah, the respectability of wealth!  We talked for a half an hour in this vein and I accepted his warm congratulations on my marriage.  Then, I told him that actually there were no oil mines in my husband’s family.  No massive wealth that made my marriage sensible and wise in his eyes.  He was floored and speechless.  He could not now backtrack and change his tune, after all that would make obvious his real objections and how much money changed his attitude.  He told me, I was too clever for my own good and we laughed together. 

He had the last laugh.  During my last visit to RSRE, while heavily pregnant, he pumped me for ideas on how to make faster switches.  It was presented as a physics problem and I was encouraged to be as off the wall as I liked in coming up with unique ideas.  So I was creative and gave him a list of ideas of the top of my head from radioactive decay, to diodes, to lasers etc.  He took out a sheet and began scribbling some of the ideas down.  I laughed and said most of them were just brainstorming stuff with probably no real chance of practical implementation.  He retorted that only one had to work to make it all worthwhile – they could afford many to fail.  Perplexed, I asked what it was all for.  He told me that it was related to my PHD research.  Now, I was confused and he was eager to explain.  “We are trying to make faster switches for bombs, that’s what we’re after, that’s what’s funding the whole research you do here, each year.”

I remember my stomach clenched in shock and my hand went to my bump in an instinctive defensive reaction.  Making faster switches for bombs!!  All my work in understanding interfaces, the beautiful theoretical predictions, the scientific experiments to find the truth, the noble truth.  It was all to make us more effective at killing and destroying.  I finished my PHD but I never did any more research in my field again.  There was something about carrying a life that meant being a part of taking a life absolutely abhorrent.  My published papers all date from before my eldest son was born.  His presence in my life made me choose a different path.  I can have no regrets about that.  I look back at my relationship with physics like a bad affair, it started with passionate devotion and ended in acrimonious divorce.  It’s such a shame because I did love physics so much.  

Thursday 26 July 2012

Arthur and Iris



Hospital Visit

He hated the smell.  That antiseptic assault with bleach mixed in.  Even the corridors annoyed him.  The shiny tiles that make shoes creak and slap down their long corridors of doom.  As he made his way to medical ward 2 where Iris, his wife lay, he tried to shut it all out and think about their home, the farmhouse, the green fields and wild hill beyond.  Fresh, free from this toxic frightening world he found himself.  There were a group of visitors waiting outside the ward.  Like cattle not allowed into the parlours until the buzzer sounded.  Arthur stood cap in hand conscious of his huge size dwarfing everyone.  He was not designed for indoors, his father had always joked, “as big and thick as a barn”.  His only brother George had been his father’s favourite.  George has been the exact opposite to Arthur.  Small, slight with quick movements and sudden gusts of temper.  His father described George in glowing terms to anyone who’d listen.  “He’s bigger than he looks George, sure there’s four feet of him underground!” That boy has massive roots, don’t judge him on what you see above ground.  For Arthur, he accepted his position on the farm as the one who did most of the chores but got none of the praise.  His size seemed to annoy people, especially his father. 


The buzzer sounded and the doors opened and George went in carefully trying to avoid bumping things or people.  Two turns of a corridor and there was his Iris looking pale and thin on a bed surrounded by tubes and equipment.  Arthur went to her bedside clutching the brown paper bag in his massive rough hands.  His voice was concerned as he kissed her wrinkled cheek,

“Hello love, how are you doing?”

Iris looked at him with a weak smile and responded

“All the better from seeing you, Artie.”

Arthur’s heart gave a jolt.  The love he felt for her stung his eyes and made him ache inside.  

“Good, good sure the house is empty without you. And mind you the dishes are piling up and it’s an awful mess”, 

complained Arthur trying to talk away emotions.  Iris laughed and reached for his hand with two of hers.  Her hands disappeared in his shovel like hand and he held them tenderly like fragile chicks feeling like the enormous useless monster his father made him feel. As they looked eye to eye, Iris whispered, 

“They say I can get home at the weekend.” 

Arthur realised that this hospital room felt suddenly more like home than anywhere else because she was here.  She’d filled his life with love and wonderful memories, this tiny woman.  And the wonder of her filled his heart.  His face creased in delight to be with her again. 

Thursday 19 April 2012

What Am I?

Starting the adventure full of fire
Seeing so much to do, veins pumping
Brain fizzing with possibilities
Then middle-aged asking where the years have gone
Ironing and folding, washing and tidying away all mess
Cooking and buying, stuff that will need more cleaning and work
A cycle of endeavour that no one really appreciates
Perhaps they’d notice if it were not done
But ordering in is easily done and disorder becomes the norm
So what is this all for?
A treadmill that began when tiny bodies arrived dependent and helpless

An ocean of love demanded that all their needs be met
A moment’s hesitation could cost their life
The roads, the knives, the scalding cups
And not just this
A sudden urge to give to them something of worth
From all life’s experiences, books, films, religions, great thinkers, science, philosophy
Cherry pick and feed them the morsels of the best
And not just this
Knowing that it is deeds not words that they really learn from
Fighting to be a better example
An inward struggle not to be selfish, mean spirited, fearful, despondent, negative and far from the light
Knowing that all the while that along with the morsels of goodness
They are also consuming great drafts of polluted us
Choking on the grit of our failings

Then dawns the day for which you struggled, worked and prayed
An independent soul steps out towards the light
Sometimes you see echoes of yourself, a gesture, a laugh
But it is just a faint shadow because they are so much better and brighter than you dreamed possible
And from that place in the sun they can look back and see the darkness of us
Our failings, faults and fumblings
Suddenly feeble, lost with no parent’s authority to clothe ourselves
Watching the ceaseless tasks we fill our days with
Wondering why we chose this
And you want to tell them it was all because of love
Every day the joy of those you love
Laughing, living, being
Out of that, a routine was born and even now when all stand before me independent
Strong and capable
I continue as before
What am I to do?
For so long this was the pattern of my life
Don’t judge me
I must find a new path but am just a little lost

You see you no longer need me and that need has fuelled the last quarter century of my life
Now I clean and iron and cook and wonder what am I?
No longer what I was, but not sure what lies ahead
Fearful, lacking confidence, older, forgetful and trying to find myself anew
Stumbling forward hoping to find direction

Trying to let go and trust
Suddenly, looking inward and within
Scrambling to find self worth to cling to
It’s difficult with all this flab
But somewhere in this half century of life’s battlefield
I have learned to be grateful for this ocean of love and am
Willing myself to end the adventure full of fire with so much to do.

Wednesday 18 April 2012

What a love story - in the real sense of the word


Loved this true story from Youtube - they just blow me away with their sweetness and words.  Hope you enjoy it.