They always say day one goes off with a bang…

Best get this down while it’s hot off the press.. or at least fresh in my mind.

I can’t complain so far, well, I can and I will, but I have enjoyed my first day. I wore silly shoes purely because they looked good with my smart trousers (never to have come out the wardrobe since my last placement at the Thanet Times 2 years ago) and my snazzy shirt – Yeah, a shirt!! A far cry from the jeans and tshirts and flip flops I have been trudging around in for weeks. So my point is, I looked amazing for my first day and have blisters. **Note to self for my L0ndon placement…flats.**

This is where the moaning begins. (Like every ‘good’ politician, I’ll put the positives at the beginning and end and fill the middle with rants and rage why nothing is going my way.) I’m all one for creativity and the blossoming of imagination from the minds of one to fill and enlighten the minds of others. But! That’s not exactly what the Turner Turnip Toilet block centre particuarly achieved. I know, I know, to be a journlist you need to know you’re area, be versed in all things good and bad, have educated but silent opinions (unless you’re Frankie Boyle and have a column in which to whinge and groan) and basically be everywhere. I tried and tried to stay away from the bleak walled, un-finished-esque concrete block that is the Turner Art Gallery dedicated to the man himself but a week after it’s opening my arm was twisted and in I went.

I was told that to sit there and have an opinion on the thing, I had to visit. Lunch break = wasted. Granted, I’m all for adventures and I enjoyed the Arcadia and the strange globes covered in writing and biro ink and a spinning mechanical ‘thing’ with lights, but let’s be honest… gravel on a wall to represent the volcanic ash of a cloud doesn’t give me butterflies and make me drop to my knees. But I am glad I went because now I know not to go again! 🙂 Happy days.

Now. For the positive ending. I’m 4 articles down, 2 on the pad for tomorrow and day one.. by-line baby! Margate’s creative spark from Margate to Ramsgate can’t have been all that bad for my portfolio eh. Granted, what I tapped away at with my fingers was only a page lead feature about a few 96 paintings displayed on a construction wall, (I thank you), but it was the background of the story that made it so satisfying. Yes, the Turner deserves it’s good press, it’ll do Margate good for the time being, but my friend for the day, Mr O’Donnell, managed to collect schools, children and local artists to contribute to his 4 year dream without the help of funds from local governments, just local companies, his friends, donations and best of all.. himself. One man changing tomorrow without ‘commercialism.’ Just hard work and a decent idea to invigorate a town lacking inspiration. What. A. Dude. I was proud to be able to write a report on something, perhaps not fresh, but at least inspiring.

It grates on my insides when I watch films that portray Journalists who want to write about something that will change the world…politics, feminism, poverty (I’m thinking Devil Wears Prada, How to lose a guy in 10 days, Blood Diamond… that kind of thing) but when you live in a small, secluded part of the country, known for it’s chav-ism, job less, pregnant teenagers and lack of get-up, it’s almost motivating to know that if you DO have an idea you CAN do it. Be the tall poppy. You never know.

And now it’s 5pm, I’ve worked my butt off.. home time. Roll on tomorrow.


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