Paul Schiernecker

Author: Paul

  • Body Worlds

    Body Worlds

    For my birthday I was given tickets to the Body Worlds exhibit off Piccadilly Circus. It’s the travelling exhibition of turtleneck and Birkenstock-loving cadaver enthusiast, Dr Gunter von Hagens. The exhibition is spread over a number of floors high above the city and it made me weep. 

    When I was in school I had very little time for the formalities of education. I got by, (two A’s at GCSE thank you very much) but I didn’t appreciate how incredible it can be to learn about shit. Now, I get it, but I don’t have enough time.

    What an amazing thing the human body is. What wonder it is capable of. What tiny little miracles we are all performing every minute of every day. It made me love and appreciate my body for getting me this far, and also made me look at the damaged cartilage in my knee in a different way. They don’t allow photos inside, which is probably for the best, because I would have taken the piss, but I thoroughly recommend giving it the once over if you get the opportunity. The floors are split by different aspects/systems of the human body. It was the respiratory system that really got me. How wild it is, what is going on inside me all the bloody time and I act like a real jerk about it. My casual smoking habit really doesn’t align with my desire to treat my body like a temple and to eat nothing but mung beans and rice and spend eight days a week doing naked yoga. I really felt like I was letting the team down, and it’s a team of one.

    I also got taken for brunch, had lunch in Chinatown and bought gelato on the South Bank. What a wonderful place London can be if you’re not dragging yourself to and from it on a work day. Thanks Jaz for another lovely day out.

     

     

     

     

  • I love you man

    This week I lost a friend who has gone north of the wall. I’m actually very bloody annoyed about it.
    You reach a point in your life where you’re pretty sure you are done with collecting friends and that you’re therefore set for life. Then on a frozen day in March 2018 you end up stuck on a delayed train with a very tall man who appears to have absolutely everything in common with you.
    You go to the cinema.
    You go for brunch.
    You make wild plans to create great things.
    You support each other through all kinds of modern-life-is-rubbish shit and then they get the job of a lifetime and move to Leeds.

    Fortunately for me, the last time I got to see Lewis was a beautiful memory that I can carry with me until I get my shit together and go to visit him. We got to perform in an improvised comedy show together for the first time. He made me laugh and it would be fair to say that in the last few months he’s also made me cry a fair number of times – I’m still not over my birthday present.

    For now though, this isn’t goodbye, it’s just au revoir. I love you man.

    Photo by Film Free Photography.

  • Thanks Keith.

    The first time my brothers and I saw the video for Firestarter, we lost our shit and I don’t think we ever found it again. The Prodigy were the first band for us who crossed over from dance into rock enough for us to get behind.

    We would sit and watch this cartoon punk of a man gyrate and stick his tongue out on TV, mad piercings all across his face, hair spiked and these wild eyes caked in makeup. I didn’t know what he was but I liked it. The most important thing was that he was from Essex. Famous people weren’t from Essex. They were from Hollywood or Liverpool or Ramsay Street. Here was this band who made a lot of noise and freaked out my mum and although we had no idea what the songs were about, they served us in some way. It felt naughty. It felt like we were getting away with it. As we got into our music and as music videos were such high profile things we became obsessed with theirs, particularly Smack My Bitch Up. No prizes for guessing why. 

    Then I started going out, “clubbing”, and heard Charly, Out Of Space and Breathe in the context they were intended. I lost my shit anew on dance floors across the county and then I got the chance to see The Prodigy at Bestival. I remember jumping up in the air at the start of their set and my feet not returning to the ground until they had left the stage in a haze of feedback and destruction. The crowd were a blanket and a riot. I was carried and dragged around like I was caught up in the undertow. I had never experienced anything like it. 

    I guess my point is that I want to say thank you to Keith, and the rest of the band of course, for providing such a ferocious soundtrack to important parts of my upbringing. I was deeply saddened by the news yesterday morning but more than anything I just thought “oh fuck, another one”. How many more people I admire am I going to lose this way? It’s absolutely gutting and more needs to be done to help people who feel that there is no alternative. Please, take the time to check on the people close to you. And if you’re feeling low and you’re able to reach out, then do so, because this alternative is no alternative at all.

    Thanks Keith.  Peace. 

     

  • London Aquarium

    London Aquarium

    The pressure was on. As Jaz had bought me tickets for Body Worlds for my birthday, I agreed to arrange the outing for our February adventure in London. I had thought about the Saatchi Gallery but when I looked at the exhibits there was nothing that really caught my eye and I figured I could come up with something better. I didn’t tell her where we were going, just that we had to be up early.

    We came out into the brilliant February sunshine (yes, I know it’s a weird sentence and a sign that Global Warming will kill us all) and we headed over the bridge towards the aquarium, the London Eye and Shrek’s Adventure. The area is a bit of a tourist trap, mostly because it’s walking through glue because of the number of rubbernecking tourists with pushchairs and prams there are along the South Bank. We ducked inside the Aquarium to collect our tickets and I was pleased to see that it wasn’t as hideously busy as I expected the death rattle of the Half Term holidays to provide. There was still time.

    Jaz and I have a mutual interest in the unknown, space and the sea are fascinating to us, as they should be to anyone. Last month when we were in Greenwich it was the Astrology Photography that really got our pulses racing. Similarly, I can sit and watch a fish tank like a fat tabby cat.

    The first room had stingrays and skate all flapping around like CGI extras in Aquaman. I sat on the floor and wondered what their agenda was. I was also struck by how extraordinarily cruel it is to keep something that is supposed to be free in a glass case. Then again, I work in an office in London. 

    The aquarium is designed with young families in mind. That wasn’t going to stop me taking the opportunity to crawl into the domed tanks or stroke a starfish. We were told to gently stroke one of the legs. I fought the hideous compulsion to give it the old death grip. It felt like a short-haired dog, but underwater, and red and not a dog at all. The other clue that the aquarium is set up to entertain little people is the position of the tanks. I kept banging my head as I stuck my big old face as close to the tanks as I could to try and befriend the seahorse army and make them do my evil bidding. Each time I would come up and nearly crack my head open on the faux-cave design.

    The best tank is the giant circular beast in the middle that you can get different views into as you work your way around. It’s in here that they have the sharks and a couple of giant turtles, upon whose backs the known universe sits. Again, you have to delete out the part of your brain that tells you they need more space than the enclosure to enjoy it but my god, those creatures are beautiful.

    I also have a lot of time for penguins. It always feels like they know something that we don’t. I think that thing is how to dress to impress. Those guys always look so fucking dapper. The last room was like the ambient chill out room in a club, except full of jellyfish. As children, my brothers and I would often spend our time in the sea on holiday worrying, probably unnecessarily, about jellyfish attacks. The drab, plastic-bag looking motherfuckers you see off the coast of Normandy are nothing on the spunky maniacs they have at the London Aquarium. I didn’t have to feel bad about the jellyfish because like musical theatre kids, they like bright lights and have no identifiable brain.

    After the aquarium we played Air Hockey, which Jaz not only beat me at but then gently gloated about, until I beat her at bowling. We wandered along the South Bank, visited Foyles where she bought me Lee Israel’s book and then we stopped for lunch at the BFI. I’m still thinking about their courgette fries today which is testament to how good vegetables can be if you just think about it for a minute.

    We got coffee and sat outside St Pauls, watching young siblings chasing each other up and down the steps, secretly hoping they would fall over. Then we crossed back over the river and found our way up to the viewing platform of the Tate Modern – the art isn’t to my taste but the wine certainly is. 

    It was another day to celebrate what London is best at – being a hub of activity and fun, a place where, as long as you can fund it, you can enjoy it.

  • 32.

    It’s been a pretty wild year. I’m glad to be where I am. I’m thankful for the people around me and the person I am.

    I’ve been for a run, had oreos for breakfast and I feel like I can achieve anything.

    Here’s to the next year.

  • Pencaitland

    I have been lucky enough to take my second trip away in two months. I spent the weekend in Pencaitland, just outside Edinburgh for three nights with a group of friends. We were all there to watch the Super Bowl. I know you all must be wondering the same thing, why would I ever be involved in purposely watching a sports game.

    I guess I must have really wanted to spend time with this group of people – enough to overlook my usual aversion to the world of sport.

    It was a grand weekend where I ate too much, drank too much, realised that I am still terrible at PitchCar but equally fantastic at very British quiz questions.

    My highlights included:

    ¡ Managing to secure a room and a bathroom to myself, which I assumed at some point would be taken from me.

    ¡ Not having to, or being able to, go to the gym for four days

    ¡ Breathing fresh air and getting out away from the usual nonsense

    ¡ Spending more time with Darren

    · Escaping the “sports room” where the “lads” were watching the “Super Bowl” to watch the trailer for Avengers: Endgame, because I have my priorities straight

    ¡ Making a lot of Brooklyn 99 and Arrested Development references

    ¡ Playing the game Horse, but with skittles

    ¡ Bringing down the survivors of an Antarctic base with Ben

    ¡ Going for a four mile walk that included a village pub

    ¡ Playing Hey Joon on the piano

    ¡ Eating my weight in nachos

    · Shouting the four key phrases I’ve got in my locker in relation to American Football

    ¡ Listening to the Guardians of the Galaxy soundtrack while getting hammered with Two Tennants Sam

    ¡ Wandering, hungover, through Edinburgh with Marcus, killing time before the train home

    We may have shouted at one another at points, but it came from a place of love and anger, so it’s all in good fun.

    Here is to next year, and the hopes that I will be the champ.

  • Greenwich.

    For someone who has worked in London for coming up on a decade, I haven’t seen enough of our fair capital. With the daily drudgery it is hard to keep in mind that it is an exceptionally cool place, full of history and that I am lucky to live so close by. When Jaz told me she was going to start exploring more of London, I decided to ride her coattails. Our first trip was to Greenwich.

    The first thing to note about Greenwich is that cute new places keep on popping up, since the exodus, it’s all getting gentrified (thanks Alex Turner). The place was hip (god I feel old using that word). There were a lot of bare ankles, oversized glasses and Lush tote bags. We took the DLR through the winding monoliths of Canary Wharf and came out in the refined air of Greenwich. We walked down towards the high street and off to the National Maritime Museum. I’ve recently been writing a piece about an Antarctic Research facility and was given a copy of Endurance, the book on Shackleton’s incredible mission to the south pole, by my friend George. I had been told there was a great exhibition on the subject and was not disappointed. There’s something very Wes Anderson about the museum. Jaz and I were in our element as we wandered around the massive space, dodging kamikaze children who run at you, regardless of how wide a berth you give them. The only disappointment I suffered all day was discovering the Ship Simulator was closed. It had been a while since I had been at sea, my understanding of maritime law was waning. We found the Polar Worlds exhibit and I floundered at the equipment on display. It is incredible to think of how those men survived those circumstances and where their minds must have gone during the time. There’s only so much penguin blubber any man should have to imbibe.

    We also visited the Insight Investment Astronomy Photographer of the Year exhibition (£10 entry) which was incredible. It reminded me of visiting desolate locations with no light pollution. In the deserts and mountains I got to see the stars in full. I saw the Milky Way over the Sahara. I watched shooting stars from the foothills of the Inca trail. There’s this incredible display above us every night and the exhibition was an opportunity to showcase that and the incredible work the photographers had undertaken to bring it to Earth.

    We wandered through Greenwich Market and picked up some lunch. I found an Ethiopian food stall and was reminded of Bill Crystal’s joke in When Harry Met Sally. I got couscous, spinach, chickpeas, lentils, chilli and three samosas for ÂŁ7. Jaz had cheesy gnocchi (from a different stall, obviously). We sat on a wall and I filled my stupid face with delicious food. I wanted to learn how to make it all.
    We went to Grind for a coffee afterwards. As we were just ordering drinks our order was overlooked a couple of times before we got what we wanted. It was very, very cool in Grind and I felt like I didn’t belong. I think that’s kind of the point.

    In the middle of last year, my friends, Elisa and George, were in Greenwich and found an art store that sold Wes Anderson inspired prints. Elisa sent me a picture of the Darjeeling Limited one and I immediately replied, asking her to pick it up for me. I knew it would only be a matter of time before I returned and bought more art. This time a print from Rushmore, Bill Murray’s character, Herman J Blume, is sat on the bottom of the pool. I love the bright colours in the print and could imagine placing it anywhere in my drab flat to brighten up the place.

    We went back across the market and over to Crosstown doughnuts. As I’m doing Veganuary a number of people (including Jaz) had told me how good their vegan, sourdough doughnuts were, but I had never tried them. I had the Orange Blossom and sat at the counter with an Americano, trying to artfully cram it into my mouth.

    We walked up to the Observatory. I wanted to stand with one foot on either side of the meridian line. You have to book tickets and pay to go into that area and to visit the only planetarium in London, so we made do with the free exhibits, which were full of children. We wandered back down the hill and made our way over to the pub where we were due to meet Laura, Darren and Darren’s mum, Monica, for dinner. She was visiting from Iowa (which I can definitely pronounce correctly). Jaz and I arrived early so propped up the bar until we could get a table. The pub faces the water and is a beautifully themed space, unless you live with my brain, which described it as “a maritime TGI Friday’s”.

    The five of us sat down for dinner and I did my best to not swear and to seem like a nice person in front of Monica because I wanted to impress her and live up to the hype I was sure must have accumulated from Darren talking about me all the time. She regaled us with stories of what he was like as a kid and I did what I could for international relations by trying not to be too offensive. It was lovely to spend time with them and to catch up with Laura, who I no longer get to see on a daily basis.

    We went back to their flat for a game of Obama Llama and some White Russians before getting the train home.

    It made such a break from my usual weekends to go out and do something, to engage in a day out properly and to pretend that we were fancy tourists. London has a lot to offer and I can’t wait to get more from it.

  • Goodbye Blue Monday.

    “Dwayne heard a tired voice from somewhere behind his head, even though no one was back there. It said this to Dwayne: Oh my, oh my.”

    Not my words but those of the late, great Kurt Vonnegut, a man who looked so much like me as a young man that I can’t be entirely sure one of the pair of us didn’t time travel. So it goes.

    Today is Blue Monday, reportedly the saddest day in the Gregorian calendar. I looked into it. I wanted to understand the maths behind it. I wanted to see their working out. It turns out that there is actually a formula for it:

    [W + (D-d)] x TQ

    M x Na

    W = weather, d = debt, D = monthly salary, T = time since Christmas, Q = Time since failing our New Year’s resolutions, M = low motivational levels, Na = the feeling of a need to take action.

    Now I don’t know about the rest of you but I hate maths at the best of times, let alone when I am working out when it is going to make me the saddest. The truth of the matter is that I haven’t failed my New Year’s Resolutions, I feel more motivated than I have in a long time and am already taking action. I refuse to be dictated to by a formula. I am not a baby.

    Instead I’ve taken today to read, listen to Father John Misty and eat good food with good people. It’s cold out there, I needed my cockles warmed (or the Veganuary equivalent). Please take the time today to give yourself a big hug or to tell someone close to you that you love them. I’ve just messaged my mum to let her know.

    Tonight I’ll go to the gym, meet a friend for dinner and if I’m lucky watch The Avengers (2012) before bed. I hope you’re able to fill your time with good things.

    If you ever need any help with dealing with this absolute shithouse we call life then my contact details are on my page.

  • Still here.

    It’s been two wonderful weeks away from social media so far. I know I will return and I know I will pick up bad habits all over again but the reason I am doing this is to take stock of where I am at. It has meant that I am more present, I have no idea what is going on with Brexit, and most importantly I don’t really know Piers Morgan’s stance on vegan sausage rolls.

    I’ve lost the twitch, the desire to reach for my phone at every moment I feel slightly uncomfortable. I’m watching a lot more films and spending my time with good people and making solid plans for this year. I cannot wait to share an awful lot of them with you, alongside the various projects I am setting in place for now and for the future.

    It’s also of benefit to the world that I’m not on social media for the month when I have also decided to try a vegan diet. Aside from the flatulence and the self-righteousness, it’s been okay. It takes a bit of planning if you want to go out anywhere but aside from that I am feeling the benefits. 

    For now though, be kind to one another and I’ll see you soon.

  • Starting it right.

    With two days left of 2018, I booked a flight to Spain. My Shoe Brother had made a vague offer of lodging and that was enough for me. I have mixed feelings about the changing of the year but I have good feelings about travel. 
I know what you are wondering. What is a Shoe Brother?

Over half a lifetime ago, I was in a Physical Education lesson being bullied. It doesn’t take an awful stretch to look at me as an adult and understand why I would have been bullied as a child. I was skinny, bookish and at odds with the DJ Luck & MC Neat-loving morons who made up much of the alumni of my school. In one particular act of bullying, a gang of them tore off one of my non-branded trainers and hurled it onto the top of the cricket netting in the sports hall. They also took another kid's shoe and did the same. Then, suffering a crisis of bullish confidence, they grabbed a pole and attempted to retrieve the shoes they had just stole. The pair of us both stood on one leg, a socked foot raised in the air in tribute to those vile idiots who probably look back on that day as a high point of their lives.
The other kid looked at me. 
“What’s up, Shoe Brother” he said. 
Therein began a friendship which I absolutely cherish to this day.

Luke is currently out in Spain, living “off-grid”, completely unaware of the nonsense in your social media feeds and unwise to your petty concerns. The way he sold it to me sounded incredible so I booked a flight out so I could spend the first part of the year, and indeed his birthday, in his holy presence. 



Luke picked me up from the airport and we ventured down to the coast. We spent time outside, a lot of time outside. We hiked up mountains and out to abandoned lighthouses. We ate as vegan as we could for a country built on its love of carne. We laughed a lot and we had some drinks and he made me dance on a cliff face while he drummed a beat on a steel pan. We washed up paella-stained saucepans in the sea. We practiced meditation on the beach. We got really, really cold from failing to dress appropriately for the plummeting evening weather. Most of all though, I just really appreciated him.



We are at an age when it becomes, or we make it become, increasingly more difficult to spend time with the people you have the longest and deepest connections with. It’s strange to think of the boys we were and the men we have subsequently become. He is a good, good person and that’s something to be treasured.

I hope 2019 treats me as well as the first five days did. I hope I can laugh and eat and be outdoors in the sun. I hope I get to connect and feel understood. I hope I can read in my spare time and talk in my taken time. I want for so much and it was granted to me so recently.Â