Rosalind Nashashibi

Hello 

Welcome back

I have had so many changes since my last personal blog I really don't know where or how to start!

Thrilling, exhausting, life-changing, happy, brilliant changes.

I have gone from working in a kitchen at night to baking.

Baking in my local bakery, a happy medium of four /five days a week. With no nights, just days and a weekend virtually off.

I decided to move, so am looking for a new location. 

Perhaps back to Ella Street, it seems logical to stay local although recently applied for a long haul job with The New York Times.

Hull, as we all know is The City Of Culture.

That being said The Turner Prize is here.

After missing the preview due to working in London I couldn't attend the event.

I wanted to focus on

Rosalind Nashashibi 

seen here to the far right of the image.

Firstly before you read more I wanted new readers to know I have dyslexia, the film has subtitles and I can not focus on both. 

My review is purely based on my visual and sound experiences as I struggle to read.

Vivian's Garden is a film just under thirty minutes long or short, take it as you will.

We all know I cook, we all know I present food like art. 

The table must be dressed with an overflow of grandeur, each plate is a symbol of my love and devotion to not only my guest but my awe-inspiring dedication to each mouthful.

The table must have plates that sing, 

the coasters for the many glasses must present structure and decadence as if you were at a grand meal. Scrap that, every meal at my house is grand.

The glasses must provide warmth but not take up space.

The meal, the food, the scent, the texture must perform like a symphony.

How does that compare to Rosalind, yes I know you are asking that!!!

Hang on though...

Firstly, I feel she's existential, Vivian's garden is a trek through not only your eyes but joy, simple indulgence of joy.

There are breaths you'll take through Vivian's garden that will make you end with a smile.

The stunning pastels, terracottas, greens and sounds of lush forest are a world away, yet so near. 

It's a tender film, of such significance, humility and depth.

Needless to say, I truly fell in love with it.

I wish to be a girl again, walking through that garden and painting in amongst the trees.

(I was at Kevin Marshalls today, I took my inner girl back, we looked and I felt like I'd found something lost)

Yes, I paint although I have not for a long time, Mum reiterates that I can paint and paint better than anything in the current Turner Prize exhibit.

Which is a lovely thing to hear, my mum the goddess of strength and beauty, it made me smile getting that text.  

Back to the film and less of my tender waffling over such things as myself.

You'll see greens, leafs and styled 

(I am sure just placed) 

objects that look stills, like they could be a painting. 

That's what blew my mind the sheer beauty of life in this film.

I could live there, hammock, dogs and people there to help me. 

I don't mean staff as such I mean a respectful dedication to something greater.

I didn't rush this film, I sipped it like a great mocha. One sip at a time, a deep cup full of flavour, texture and I was left having so many questions. I need to know more, I want to go to Guatemala and to that house.  

I feel this film is an enrichment, it serves your soul, it makes your mind bleed into something rather spectacular. The mythical journey of the mind is so powerful.

Go and adore... what are you waiting for?