About Me

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London, United Kingdom
Holly Searle is a writer and an artist who was made in Soho and thereafter born in the heart of London. She has been blessed with two quite remarkable children and grandchildren whom she adores. She enjoys the company of her friends and the circus that is life, has a degree in Film and Television, and has exhibited her artwork in several exhibition.

Sunday, 6 October 2013

The Perfect Day By Holly Searle

For Red, because she has beautiful hair, and because l made her walk too fast on the way to the party.

It is incredibly rare to achieve what I consider to be a perfect day.

Sometimes all of the ingredients just aren't there. And the actual day that you have planned, becomes tainted by unforeseen and unavoidable elements that you just didn't bargain for.

This all put me in mind of one of my favourite sequences in Goodfellas which tracks Henry Hill's last day as a Wise Guy.

Throughout this entire sequence, from its start and until its finish, Henry's day is packed solid with activity.

Not only does he undertake a variety of mob related criminal chores, but he also manages to collect his brother from the hospital, as well as making that pasta sauce. And all the time, he is vexed by a continual paranoia that the FBI are watching his every move (they are).

And just when he thinks that the hellish day is over, the Feds appear and arrest him.

Game over Henry.

Not a perfect day, but one that was a long time coming.

You're going to reap just what you sow.

In an oppositional Sliding Doors universe to the one that Henry Hill occupied, I recently achieved a day that was the polar opposite, that was a true to form, cherry on the top, perfect day.

At the beginning of the year it was a given that I would turn fifty. So I thought, okay, I can either stay in or I can follow the advice that is contained in the lyrics of the song Cabaret, that Sally Bowels belts outs. You know the one that I am talking about? Yes you do. It starts off with asking the question What good is sitting alone in your room?
Come hear the music play. Life is a Cabaret, old chum. Come to the Cabaret.

Well life is a cabaret, and my table would only be waiting if I booked it.

And so I did.

I reserved the space and invited old and new friends, and of course my family.

This was quite early in the year.

And then I left it there in my mind space, until September arrived quicker that a slight of hand card trick.

And then I began to panic.

What if no one came? What it if life wasn't a cabaret after all?

Then I remembered Field of Dreams and started to repeat on a daily basis the mind mantra If you build it they will come, as the date of the do approached.

And do you know what, they did. Not because of the mantra, but because I am blessed and fortune to have so many friends and family whom I adore.

The day was perfect, and the first to arrive, and the last to leave, was my dear friend Red. We don't see each other all the time, but time can concertina pretty quickly when you stay in touch.

When we arrived at the venue, we were five in total. But has the minutes passed, people began to arrive with their wishes and gifts.

And soon the room was full.

And so was my heart.

And there was an eclectic mix of personalities that all seemed to blend well together.

I was so happy, and touched and overwhelmed by it all, that I can honestly say that it was the best birthday I have ever had.

So to all of you that came, and to all of you that couldn't make it, I just wanted to say thank you for making it so special and for being part of my life.

I can honestly say that each and everyone of you has enriched my life, and that I am a better person for having you all in it.

So thank you for making my day perfect, and apologise to Henry Hill.

You're going to reap just what you sow.

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