I spent much of my free time in 2024 painting miniatures, so that will be the illustrative focus of my recap to provide some colour in what has been a difficult year. Returning to this hobby after two decades was not simply fortuitous, but a way to find the meditative headspace I have needed to process recent family events. Some readers will be aware that my mother is seriously ill. Two years ago she was diagnosed with Parkinson’s and initially responded well to medication; that changed with a sudden, rapid deterioration and early last year she received a new diagnosis of Corticobasal Degeneration, a rare degenerative neurological condition, though diagnostic difficulties mean her precise condition(s) remain uncertain. Its rarity also means that the rate of deterioration is not well understood or predictable, and treatment is limited to temporary alleviation of symptoms. It is a strange thing to find a parent suddenly resembling your memory of a grandparent. My dad and my sister are with mum regularly so they have seen a gradual decline — as I travelled down at first every few months and then every few weeks, I experienced it in progressive bursts. I am incredibly grateful they they are able to do so much — dad as her primary carer and my sister living so close — but it leaves me feeling guilty that more falls on their shoulders purely due to geography.
Others have travelled a long way to see mum. Kirsten flew over from Germany for a visit which meant a lot to mum. Several of our American relatives visited over the course of the year, and Jenna stayed with me for a week in October specifically to help with mum’s care. She observed the particular unfairness that this disease has taken away mum’s use of her hands, preventing her from enjoying her talents in cross-stitch and sewing. It made me particularly aware of the fact that, consciously or unconsciously, I was seeking refuge in a hobby based on fine motor skills. It has made me particularly aware that I should embrace it whilst I am able, something I had only previously considered in terms of vision.
Perhaps most difficult has been mum’s declining ability to communicate. Unlike “traditional” dementia, she is generally very present and able to follow what is happening around her, but translating thoughts into speech takes significant effort, frequently becoming stuck in loops of repeated phrases. I am glad that we managed to discuss mum’s wishes regarding future treatment early on and — following my experience with a friend’s father — put in place Lasting Powers of Attorney. I highly recommend others in a similar position doing so early rather than waiting and finding that communication has become problematic. Had we waited even a few months, it would have been significantly more difficult to be certain that she understood what she was agreeing and that we understood her wishes. For those in the UK, the forms are freely available and I am happy to provide help with them.
One side-effect of hiding away at home and painting has been seeing markedly fewer films in the past year. Coupled with many of the latest releases not hitting streaming services as swiftly, I have opted not to produce a top 10 list as I have for the past couple of years because it feels like I have missed too many. However, it has still felt like a weaker year for cinema generally, with few of those I have seen even achieving an 8 or 9 rating, let alone a 10. I am comfortable that the three I awarded a 9 were the best that I was likely to see in 2024 — Anora, Dune: Part Two, and The Outrun. An honourable mention to The Fall Guy as the most fun I had in a cinema. The worst I saw was, by some margin, Madame Web, which fully deserved its widespread derision.
In April I returned to Cambridge for the first time in years for a 20th anniversary dinner at Downing. Although it was shared with the ‘4 cohorts from multiple decades, ours was by far the largest contingent followed by Graham Virgo’s ’84 year, following his recent ascension to Master of the college. Many I spoke to were slightly apprehensive about who would be attending but it turned out to be a lovely crowd through self-selection — those who were less likeable had less reason to attend.
Toward the end of summer, I holidayed with the university crowd in Minehead, a choice that drew interesting reactions from my colleagues, particularly once they discovered I was voluntarily subjecting myself to a house full of kids. It was a lovely week, the child count now increasing to five with Shamini’s recent addition to the crew, but with sufficient adults to keep them entertained. My nephew was jealous of the steam railway in a year that has seen his reading material include a book cataloguing the UK’s current rolling stock.
During the year I managed to attend a couple of live gigs but each time it seemed to take phenomenal effort to drag myself out. Aurora was superb as always, though the overcrowded charity gig at Lafayette — where I was treated like a criminal by security for having a camera in my bag — was a far cry from my previous experience at the Brixton Academy in 2022. Miranda Sex Garden recently reformed after two decades and their show was a far more relaxed affair. It was the first time I have seen the ethereal gothic rock band whose romantic/haunting Carnival of Souls album I still return to. Hopefully the coming year will bring more gigs, though I suspect I will be increasingly selective about venues. I have been using Songkick to track artists in one place and receive notifications when they play London shows.
Staying shut away in 2024 was, I think, necessary for me to process things which required time and stillness. I will be continuing to paint in the coming year, but my goal is definitely to force myself out into the world again, whether for films, shows or otherwise.
