Yesterday I escaped to London. I needed a break from the seemingly endless house search. After a while it becomes compulsive and hours spent staring at a screen are no good for anyone, whatever the reason. I decided that not only did I need a change of scene I also needed a break from my phone. It’s a bit like that old adage, the one that says it doesn’t matter where you travel you take yourself with you. Now it’s not only yourself you take everywhere, but that little beeping tyrant as well.
I started out with the best of intentions, but I’m so reliant on my mobile I knew that I couldn’t possibly leave it behind altogether. My rail card is on it and how would I text home when I needed a ride back from the station? Then of course my credit cards are also on my phone, and what if I got lost and needed Google maps to find my way round? I decided on a compromise. I needed my mobile for my train ticket, and I decided I could use Google wallet to pay for things, but other than that my phone was to remain untouched at the bottom of my bag, no matter how insistently it demanded attention.
So I dug out my pocket-sized London atlas and headed off. I probably should’ve turned off notifications so that my mobile didn’t beep annoyingly, but I thought it might be character-building not to. It wasn’t. I did make it, though: I managed to get through the day without reading any emails or messages. I looked at them when I got home and there certainly wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait and a lot that I could do without altogether. I really need to unsubscribe from all those pointless emails offering me discount holidays and the latest in jigsaw puzzles.
Perhaps the hardest thing was spending a day not looking things up. We now expect to have the answer to everything instantly and maybe it’s just not necessary. Are we cluttering our brains up with more information than anyone could ever need? I had a wonderful peaceful day in London. I stopped for coffee and read my book rather than scrolling through my phone. When I ate my lunch in the park I watched people walk by and admired the flowers. I visited the Wallace Collection to see an exhibition about Walt Disney’s use of Rococo French art and architecture in his films (I know, who would have thought it?) and I looked at the exhibits, read the labels and listened to the audio guide. I resisted all urges to look things up on my phone and after a while I forgot that I even could.
I can’t believe I have written four paragraphs about my phone when the most interesting thing I did yesterday was learn how Walt Disney’s love of flamboyant 18th century French art, architecture and design directly inspired the look and feel of his early films. I’m not particularly a Disney fan and I don’t much like Rococo style, but the exhibition was fascinating. The museum has an extensive collection of art and decorative objects from this era and they displayed carefully chosen examples alongside Disney drawings, paintings and storyboards, clearly illustrating the source of his inspiration. Clips from Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast showed how these images were painstakingly translated onto the screen. I came away from the exhibition full of admiration for the creativity and artistry of the Disney animators and for the time and dedication needed to make a full-length animated film entirely from hand-drawn images. It reminded me of the pre-digital life that we used to lead, not so long ago.