So, this week heralds the start of this year’s Glastonbury Festival and, just as last year, I begin to turn down the volume on the radio as I get in the car and avoid logging in to Instagram. I cannot face the excessive excitement because, essentially, I am ridiculously jealous.
Instead, I will spend the weekend texting my best friend, just as I did earlier in the year as Coachella played out without us. Texts filled with promises and prospects of future fun. I will text her whilst I drink wine in my pyjamas on the sofa waiting for my daughter to fall asleep.
I have never been to Glastonbury and, let’s face the sad truth, I am now never likely to go. However, having been to a few festivals, as I am attacked by the build up from every angle, I can honestly say I wish I was there!
Because I need to get lost. I need to shake my hair out, dress in clothes that cannot viably be worn anywhere else and play pretend for a few days. I need to run away from reality.
Everybody needs to escape. Everybody need to explore. Everybody needs an excuse to be somebody else for a few days.
But sometimes finding a few days is simply unrealistic. There are days (like today) when finding five minutes feels like an impossible task. And I know that, instead of walking out of a tent in to one world of make believe, I will climb under the covers and find an alternative world all of my own.
I will draw the curtains and turn on the bedside light. I will find an old, treasured favourite, inhale and begin. And, page by page, I will walk away. Slowly at first and then completely. I will reject reality and embrace my escape…
A favourite photograph by Tim Walker that speaks to me of the beauty of escape.