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Flickytwit

@flickytwit.bsky.social

Coat of many colours, mind of many squirrels, always up to some sort of creative broadcasting/TV/event/props/stage shenanigans.

746 Posts852 Follower2337 Folgt
Flickytwit@flickytwit.bsky.social · last wk.

Being told by a trusted mutual that the manager of several high profile artists likes my photography work is lovely *resists temptation to wait for phone to ring and hold breath*

Flickytwit@flickytwit.bsky.social · last wk.

How to get my Lord of the Rings box set back from my mum? She said she'd like to borrow it for the weekend about 3 months ago and she is still watching it most weeks apparently. I'm going to just have to buy it again aren't I.

Flickytwit@flickytwit.bsky.social · 3w ago

Was nearly run into (literally) by an old ex today. Kept walking, didn't look back, schadenfreude, immediate remorse (about schadenfreude), forgot strawberries, still irrationally cross about it (the strawberries).

Flickytwit@flickytwit.bsky.social · 3w ago

There seems to be an alarming dearth of Mint Cornettos multipacks in supermarkets near me right now. Tesco tried fobbing me off with a Mint Vienetta. IT'S NOT THE SAME.

Tom Cox@dj-acid-reflux.bsky.social · last mo.

Yes I'm sure taking loads of drugs must be great but what is also quite exciting is going for a walk in remote woodland and stumbling across a lone inexplicable brutalist pillar.

A lone brutalist pillar, possibly the lone surviving remnant of a medieval car park, situated in Dartmoor woodland. The scene is a little reminiscent of the cover of the album Who's Next by The Who (which shows The Who in the aftermath of pissing next to a similar obelisk) but many years on, when the landscape fertilised by The Who has flourished, blissfully unaware that the band are now variously dead or supporters of Right Wing politics. I lived not much more than half an hour's walk away from this pillar during early 2022, when I was finishing my first novel Villager, which, though I'm biased, is a good fucking book, which someone once called "psychedelic Cranford", and the pillar's presence was one of many reminders of the mystery of the British landscape, prompting me to write about Dartmoor not straightforwardly as it is but as a very slightly warped parallel dimension version of itself with new social history, lost music, folklore and ghosts, yet with the same mossy dripping otherworldly feeling I always got during my many many long walks there, during which I always ended up writing novels (many of them now sadly lost forever) in my head, felt like deep history was touchable, and that I was passing through a landscape that had somehow put itself on steroids. It is great when more people discover a love for walking on it and swimming in its rivers but so sad that so many of them, with their selfie sticks and dogs, now contribute to a horrible growing Instagram tourism that I fear might eventually ruin the place, only leading to even more Instagram influencers populating it not because they're truly enchanted by Dartmoor's magic nor what Dartmoor does to them but because they want likes on Instagram from other potential Instagram influencers who will then also visit it, leading to more litter and dog shit and maybe even, eventually, a greater dystopia of people taking selfies of themselves next to this pillar, or chiselling bits of it off as a "souvenir".
Flickytwit@flickytwit.bsky.social · last mo.

Sam Neill was one of few actors who could turn up in a film and raise its whole game. I think we can agree that his whole body of work was pretty incredible, but my personal favourite always has been and probably always will be The Dish.