It’s best to make your New Year’s Resolutions at the end of January. That way you don’t step into the year having failed to do Dry January, Veganuary, or a hundred press-ups. You haven’t upset a digitised owl because you don’t know the Spanish word for owl. You haven’t regretted buying a full year of that yoga app that you used once.
So, Bristol, as we see out January, which for the record, has been just godawful in the continuing escapades of ‘the news gets worse and worse and it becomes harder and harder to look away for even a second because we must bear witness’, here are my New Year’s Resolutions.
I am going to experiment with biryanis and I’m going to write about them and I’m going to write about them on a full belly because I’m filled with biryani
I’m going to find out who wrote a racist slur on a lamppost near my kid’s school.
I’m going to show up at every single counter-protest every time the far right decide to cause racist havoc in our city. I will never buy into any of their attempts to launder their racism through wedge issues. I will show them, continually that they are not welcome in my city. I want to write less about them in this column. There’s more deliciousness to be had in our city and they take up far too much of my bandwidth. Last year, I cancelled an international trip, a chance to see my dad, and a morning refereeing my kid’s football match to march against these agitator dickheads. And I will continue to do it. I too have better things to do with my weekends. But let’s all continue to show up.
I am going to cycle and skateboard more. Last year, my bike and my surfskate barely got a look in. I felt chained to my desk. And not my desk at the University of Bristol, where I am a lecturer in creative writing, or to my desk in the Pervasive Media Studio at the Watershed where I am a resident, or to my desk at the Bristol Cable office. At a makeshift desk at home. And by desk, I mean the sofa bed in the spare bed where I lay down to write. I will be out in this city more. I will see you in these streets, Bristol.
I am going to find the best biryani in the city. I will revisit this in a future column. I am going to experiment with biryanis and I’m going to write about them and I’m going to write about them on a full belly because I’m filled with biryani. I love biryani. I can’t cook biryani. And I can’t rely on only eating biryani in London when I go to visit my family. Bristol biryani, let’s be having you.
I am going to see twelve gigs this year. Bristol constantly has brilliant bands passing through and I don’t ever notice until the gig is sold out. I love seeing live music and I’m emerging from that period of parenthood where you’re just in all the time, trying to complete your streamer site of choice’s selection of boxsets. I feel like a gig a month is easy-peasy as a baseline.
I’m going to volunteer again. A few years ago, I helped out at my local food bank and at a refugee charity but last year, partly because of work and partly because of an extended bout of terrible mental health, I didn’t really give too much of my time out to voluntary organisations. That’s going to change. My mum always spoke about the importance of seva: selfless community service. And I have made that an important part of my life ever since I was a teenager. I don’t know what happened. Well, I do. I got bogged down in work.
I mentioned gigs before, and specifically I was talking about music gigs. But also, I want to see more stand up. So many excellent comedians passing through our city and a few new stand-up nights have sprung up in recent years. I want to laugh. My god, I need to laugh.
I am going to self-publish two very-Bristol-specific projects this year. I’m not going to announce them in this column cos I’m still working them out but add me on Instagram or Substack or Blue Sky and you’ll find out what they are then. They’re both responses to these times in this city and where I am. They’re both my attempts to navigate where Bristol fits into what’s happening in the rest of the country and how and where exactly we can find hope.
I’m going to get my ears tested because I have never heard the Bristol hum.
I am going to step in when I see injustice on our streets. I will stand with you.
I am going to play 100 games of football.
I should probably go and see a dentist. I’m scared. It’s been way too long. I don’t want to tell you.
I am going to have a year of being very present in this city, eating biriyani, running the racists out of town, jumping around at gigs and trying to enjoy everything this city has to offer. Bristol is unique. It is radical and weird and politicised and fun and soulful and filled with my favourite type of people: curious creative souls who want to try stuff, are ok with getting stuff wrong and starting again, and always being so very playful.
See you on these streets, Bristol.
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