Blossom Caldarone on finding the extraordinary in the ordinary

I love going back home to Gloucester where I grew up. I go to the shops I used to swear by, see my old teachers across the street and visit my mad but loving family – some of my favourite things to do. I’ve been living in London for four years now, and these normal activities seem more important than ever. Cities are noisy and I often feel bombarded by the sale of a ‘bigger’ and ‘better’ life. Whether that’s intentional or not, that’s how me and my cynical attitude perceive London and its busyness at times. You don’t have the same sort of immediate, everything-must-be-done-yesterday approach in places like Gloucester; life moves just that little bit slower and feels much simpler because of it.

The normal people who make up the majority of city suburbs, and smaller towns like Gloucester, often have the most surprising stories. Family feuds, untold tales and decade-spanning fallouts tell so much about a personality and its flaws. I often ask my mum about what’s going on back home; it’s refreshing to hear about Lorna-from-work’s husband’s hamstring troubles instead of the overwhelming and rapidly scary news I feel at the very heart of in London. Everything feels astronomical in the metropolis.

But let’s be serious: some of the most heart-wrenching and unpredictable stories I’ve been told feature people you would never have guessed they happened to. Life throws so many curveballs at us, we have to bounce back more than we think. Humans are resilient; we deal with birth, death, success, failure, tragedy, and adrenaline to name a few of our feats. There is constantly some sort of emotion running through our minds, making us do whatever it is we do each day – whether that’s something or nothing.

People, their emotions, and their stories are what inspire me the most. My favourite songs are usually the ones that don’t involve the artist too much; songs that don’t talk about the lyricist's feelings but focus on the feelings of those around them. Painting an objective picture really helps when telling a story; you receive it as it is without bias.

Billy Joel’s "Piano Man" is a perfect example of this. Joel laments the men who sit around him in the bar and is a voice for their mundane and heavy stories. He quotes them honestly: “Bill, I believe this is killing me, as the smile ran away from his face / Well I’m sure that I could be a movie star, if I could get out of this place.” It’s a story shared by so many: unfulfilled dreams and feeling held back by a hometown.

Another example is the BBC drama This Country, set near where I grew up. It documents the days of the pitiful but endearing Kerry and Kurtan Mucklowe, and reminds you of how different life is outside the forward-thinking London bubble.

All the characters involved in these stories are living small lives, but their stories are so important. They’re real stories about real people and I think that’s why they resonate so much. Shows like Friends and The Archers have been or are running for years because of their universally relatable main topic: people and their emotions. They're not about the craziness of Hollywood, superheroes, or magic – just normal people living their lives.

Whether it’s for creative inspiration or not, it’s important to keep looking outwards and at the people who surround us. We’re always reminding ourselves to look inwards, to better ourselves but, sometimes, looking at others helps – and you can learn a lot. In a world where everything is so digital, keeping closely linked to actual humans is invaluable. The mundane is timeless and you will find extraordinary in the ordinary.