This is fantastic, Ian. Such vivid recollections and pleased to hear that my hometown has had an impact on you.
I grew up in Headingley and currently live a couple of miles up the road. We watched Paddington at Hyde Park Picture House just before Christmas - lovely place.
I was admiring its revamp on StreetView. Tempting to make the trip again. If you’ve not read Nick Davies book “Dark Heart”, it has a very concentrated section on 1990s Hyde Park’s status as a drug-den-postcode, très verité.
This poem really resonates with me, especially as someone who’s rooted in the north and always drawn back here, no matter where work takes me. I relate to the feeling of revisiting the streets and rooms of earlier days, knowing there’s still so much we can’t quite finish or grasp but are constantly pulled back to. It’s almost as if the place itself is a living part of us, changing as we do but always keeping some key detail or moment locked in time. The sense of youthful freedom, the carefree attitude of being in a city that felt like home in a different way, is something I’ve experienced myself, only to find that “home” takes on a new shape with each return. It’s like the world is never quite as I left it, yet that subtle nostalgia and connection to the place never fades. For me, having spent so much time in places like Oxford and London, the contrast between those cities and the north is always palpable. It’s as if the “South” is always distant in both a physical and emotional way. No matter how many recording studios I work in down there, I never quite shake the pull of the north. It has an addictive energy to it that isn't down south. Like you, I find that it’s impossible to fully leave this place, no matter where my journey takes me. The north is home, always.
Terrific romp through the past, Ian, and the old grainy nature of the photos suit the mood of the piece. Thanks for sharing the slice of who you are and who you were. No parking in the park gives a lighthearted sense of how it is impossible to actually go back, but still fun to visit the relics and the places.
Beautifully rendered
This is fantastic, Ian. Such vivid recollections and pleased to hear that my hometown has had an impact on you.
I grew up in Headingley and currently live a couple of miles up the road. We watched Paddington at Hyde Park Picture House just before Christmas - lovely place.
I was admiring its revamp on StreetView. Tempting to make the trip again. If you’ve not read Nick Davies book “Dark Heart”, it has a very concentrated section on 1990s Hyde Park’s status as a drug-den-postcode, très verité.
This poem really resonates with me, especially as someone who’s rooted in the north and always drawn back here, no matter where work takes me. I relate to the feeling of revisiting the streets and rooms of earlier days, knowing there’s still so much we can’t quite finish or grasp but are constantly pulled back to. It’s almost as if the place itself is a living part of us, changing as we do but always keeping some key detail or moment locked in time. The sense of youthful freedom, the carefree attitude of being in a city that felt like home in a different way, is something I’ve experienced myself, only to find that “home” takes on a new shape with each return. It’s like the world is never quite as I left it, yet that subtle nostalgia and connection to the place never fades. For me, having spent so much time in places like Oxford and London, the contrast between those cities and the north is always palpable. It’s as if the “South” is always distant in both a physical and emotional way. No matter how many recording studios I work in down there, I never quite shake the pull of the north. It has an addictive energy to it that isn't down south. Like you, I find that it’s impossible to fully leave this place, no matter where my journey takes me. The north is home, always.
Terrific romp through the past, Ian, and the old grainy nature of the photos suit the mood of the piece. Thanks for sharing the slice of who you are and who you were. No parking in the park gives a lighthearted sense of how it is impossible to actually go back, but still fun to visit the relics and the places.
This was an emotional reading experience for me. The photos enhanced it all the more. Thank you, Ian.