My Everton

 

My Everton

everton

In 2008 the family moved from South Liverpool – Sefton Park area – to Everton. Our first Everton home was at 7 Bright Street, near Everton Park. In November 2013 we bought a new home, a new build on the Keepmoat estate on the other side of the Everton Park, technically still Everton, but very close to Anfield stadium. We are now near Stanley Park. From As You Like It‘s Far Arden (magical Sefton Park) through King Lear‘s Heath (open and windy Everton Park) to Stanley Park, which divides/connects two famous Merseyside football teams, LFC and Everton.

These three short films are Lena’s encounters in Everton. The third one is accompanied by a piece of writing about the Angel at Creative Campus, Liverpool Hope University where Lena worked for 9 years: 9 points for 9 years at Hope.

 

My Everton Demolition 

My Everton – Demolition February 2015 from dissentathome on Vimeo.

 

My Everton Swing

My Everton – Swing 2014 from dissentathome on Vimeo.

 

My Everton Angel 

My Everton Angel from dissentathome on Vimeo.

  • That angel, glowing at us all in Everton, doesn’t look like an angel.
  • I don’t think anything about him,’ says Neal, ‘I think it’s really stupid cause it’s made of glass and could smash easily.’ How long will this angel last, a couple of centuries, longer? Will he come smashing down in the storm? How long has he got?
  • I notice that colour purple in his chest, that kind of other worldly glow, kind of out of there, kind of dis/belonging. It’s consistent. It’s endless. It’s overwhelming.
  • I forgot to look at the angel today. I’m elsewhere and you are so irrelevant. I can’t place the angel in today at all. I wasn’t paying attention. I walked past him and forgot him. I never thought, I never glanced, never felt. What’s the point of writing the angel? I’m fading away. I’m stretched. I miss that endless boredom.
  • I glance at the angel, he’s a point of reference, with a bit of purple/blue in his chest.
  • A task: fall in love with this angel.
  • Hidden angel in the storm, dancing in the snow, all the fluffiness, gorgeous for a while, and then ugly again. Magic lasts for 15 minutes.
  • Angel is not enough. One angel with his purple glow is rubbish. Where’s the new energy coming from? They are so excited and yet I feel so stale, all done. We need new songs.
  • You are looking elsewhere. You avert your gaze from me. You are watching over others? Do you ever turn away from them? You, with all your demands! And all your knowledge! You, who endure the cold! You naked, exiled from Eden, condemned to bad weather.