dear friends and folks,
my computer has a severe viral infection, which has disabled most of its functions. thus, i am computerless until i go home on christmas eve. so i'm spending a lot of time on the computers in the library here, finishing up my coursework and things. going to spain for four days with a flatmate on friday, flying back home shortly after. crazy.
i am bursting with things to relay on here, sights and sounds, photos, mementos, happenings. there is too much, and i'm afraid i will forget it all too soon, so i'm working on it. hopefully will finish work and get back to it.
until then, hope you're all okay.
stay warm, watch the blizzards there, wowza.
xx
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
traveling North
while in edinburgh, laurel and I took a day trip up to the scottish highland capital of inverness. we took megabus all the way, laurel sleeping because she was getting the flu at this point and feeling quite ill, me staring at a fine-looking gentleman a few rows ahead or daydreaming out the window. throughout my travels, I continue to fall in love with people I don't even know. I've never even met. I don't even know who they are or what they are about, but I KNOW I am in love with them. I know that if I could just speak with them once, we would become soulmates. I should stop doing this. It's silly. But I won't. There is a certain ease in the distance you keep from not confronting a person, never interacting with them except through eye contact.
There were little kids on this bus too, and they liked to sing. The one right behind my seat was first singing MC Hammer's "Can't Touch This," followed by the Super Mario Bros. Theme and then "Who Let The Dogs Out," and also shouting "There's another castle!" when we passed a castle in the distance. It was a pleasant ride with all these people, families, children, cute guy with bed head, Laurel and I, riding through mountains of snow and no civilization.
Inverness was a quaint little town, with nothing else in sight but the mountains. There was, of course, another castle here, but it was very chiseled to house a courtroom today. I have some photos of the views from up near the castle, which I will put on the album for Edinburgh. We also witnessed some sort of drug exchange right near the castle. Strange it was here, and not Glasgow that we encountered this. I do not have a photo of that. We learned about the history of the highlands in a museum, and I wanted to go to Loch Ness to see the creature (it is a short bus ride away from the town), but Laurel was feeling too sick and said she'd get seasick. So we just wandered around Inverness for a bit. And here is where I come back to the notion of heading North that I mentioned before but never explained. From my experience, going further and further north means coming upon a people that is so in touch with its earth, with its land and climate. Living in the North means knowing how to deal with the bitter bitter cold and accepting it for what it is. It means keeping warmth inside and giving it out despite that cold. I felt an immediate connection with the people of Inverness because of this understanding. They were all so friendly, so 'down-to-earth,' so laid-back. They live in a beautiful place of mountains and lakes and snow and good people who want nothing but that. Some might wonder why anyone would travel so far North to live, away from the cities and the centres, away from the polluted air, but there is a special place in my heart for these people of the North. Actually, something I found a bit strange, there is a noticeably large population of senior citizens in Inverness, ambling around town with their canes. And they were the least annoying old people I've ever seen. They were full of life.
By the time we got back to Edinburgh, Laurel was miserable, I felt terrible for her. So we got quick food and headed to the hostel so she could sleep and get better. And next day, she did feel better. We went on a walking tour of Edinburgh with a great tour guide, learned a lot of interesting tidbits. Like in the 15th century, if you committed a crime, you would have to stand for an entire day and night with your ear nailed to the town crier post at the center of the royal mile, while people of the town laughed at you and poured things like the contents of their bedpans on you. Some people just couldn't tolerate it so they ripped their ear off to escape. brutal. Also, Edinburgh has been the home of J.K. Rowling, so Laurel and I ate in the cafe where she wrote some of the first Harry Potter books while she was too poor to afford heating her house. The people of Edinburgh are very proud of J.K. Rowling. And I felt that I was in a magical place in that city. Something about the architecture and it being up on a hill and the castle and the alleys I guess. I would like to go back there someday I think.
That evening, whichever evening that was, Laurel and I parted ways, she back to London, me to Dublin to visit Catie. And this will be continued in the next.
a few more photos:
Inverness
authoritarian.
town in the mountains with the friendly folk
tourists are we
royal mile, edinburgh
here are the rest:
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/Edinburgh%20and%20Inverness/
There were little kids on this bus too, and they liked to sing. The one right behind my seat was first singing MC Hammer's "Can't Touch This," followed by the Super Mario Bros. Theme and then "Who Let The Dogs Out," and also shouting "There's another castle!" when we passed a castle in the distance. It was a pleasant ride with all these people, families, children, cute guy with bed head, Laurel and I, riding through mountains of snow and no civilization.
Inverness was a quaint little town, with nothing else in sight but the mountains. There was, of course, another castle here, but it was very chiseled to house a courtroom today. I have some photos of the views from up near the castle, which I will put on the album for Edinburgh. We also witnessed some sort of drug exchange right near the castle. Strange it was here, and not Glasgow that we encountered this. I do not have a photo of that. We learned about the history of the highlands in a museum, and I wanted to go to Loch Ness to see the creature (it is a short bus ride away from the town), but Laurel was feeling too sick and said she'd get seasick. So we just wandered around Inverness for a bit. And here is where I come back to the notion of heading North that I mentioned before but never explained. From my experience, going further and further north means coming upon a people that is so in touch with its earth, with its land and climate. Living in the North means knowing how to deal with the bitter bitter cold and accepting it for what it is. It means keeping warmth inside and giving it out despite that cold. I felt an immediate connection with the people of Inverness because of this understanding. They were all so friendly, so 'down-to-earth,' so laid-back. They live in a beautiful place of mountains and lakes and snow and good people who want nothing but that. Some might wonder why anyone would travel so far North to live, away from the cities and the centres, away from the polluted air, but there is a special place in my heart for these people of the North. Actually, something I found a bit strange, there is a noticeably large population of senior citizens in Inverness, ambling around town with their canes. And they were the least annoying old people I've ever seen. They were full of life.
By the time we got back to Edinburgh, Laurel was miserable, I felt terrible for her. So we got quick food and headed to the hostel so she could sleep and get better. And next day, she did feel better. We went on a walking tour of Edinburgh with a great tour guide, learned a lot of interesting tidbits. Like in the 15th century, if you committed a crime, you would have to stand for an entire day and night with your ear nailed to the town crier post at the center of the royal mile, while people of the town laughed at you and poured things like the contents of their bedpans on you. Some people just couldn't tolerate it so they ripped their ear off to escape. brutal. Also, Edinburgh has been the home of J.K. Rowling, so Laurel and I ate in the cafe where she wrote some of the first Harry Potter books while she was too poor to afford heating her house. The people of Edinburgh are very proud of J.K. Rowling. And I felt that I was in a magical place in that city. Something about the architecture and it being up on a hill and the castle and the alleys I guess. I would like to go back there someday I think.
That evening, whichever evening that was, Laurel and I parted ways, she back to London, me to Dublin to visit Catie. And this will be continued in the next.
a few more photos:
Inverness
authoritarian.
town in the mountains with the friendly folk
tourists are we
royal mile, edinburgh
here are the rest:
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/Edinburgh%20and%20Inverness/
edinburgh
now begins massive consecutive posting to finish the tale of three cities...
so that monday, i can't remember the date, catie and i woke up in glasgow, in susan's home, very very early, dropped catie off at the airport, then went into the city centre where my bus would leave from. we were a bit early, so susan and i sat and had a nice little chat at starbucks. we talked about jobs and what i'm going to do with my life after university. it was very nice, i felt like she was my aunt, not just my aunt's friend. then we said our goodbyes and it was a nice moment. she told me i should ring her whenever I'm in scotland next and that my dad must be very proud of me. i don't know if she meant for traveling or what, but it was sweet anyway.
I slept on the bus to Edinburgh and met my friend Laurel at the bus station (she had taken the night bus all the way from london). We checked in at our hostel which, I have to say, was really really great. much nicer than I thought, cool young workers, cheap good food, comfy beds. our bunk room had classy red wine-colored walls and themed sherlock holmes. nice. after we ate and locked up our things, we walked up the Royal Mile, browsed through the many plaid and cashmere shops and visited the castle.
I think the exterior was used in some of the harry potter films?
see the city
playground
we did a bit of shopping, got bored at the national gallery, went back to the hostel. we found out earlier from a lady at a music shop that the place next door to our hostel has good traditional live music, so we went to check it out. and it was more beautiful than i had expected. we left the rain to step inside a little bar named after the Hebrides, a cluster of islands off the west coast of scotland. inside this bar was a different world. a community of people, young and old, but mostly old, who are such close neighbors and spend their evenings together singing and drinking. laurel and i sat there watching them, drinking our tea, smiling, clapping. they asked us where we were from, why we were drinking tea instead of beer, and we all laughed. one guy who kept looking at me, acknowledging me like a new friend, pointed at my mug as he walked by and said "what is this shit?" said it was bad for the organs compared to beer. we smiled. it wasn't a rude gesture. it was like we had become close acquaintances without exchanging more than 4 words. i can't remember the last time someone used the word shit with me out of respect and common ground and friendliness and humour. how had we found this place?
it was so warm and toasty and there was a big circle of men playing instruments and singing from an old book of Scottish songs. it was mostly men singing, old buddies. they would add in and out of the harmony, some singing, some playing, some just clapping or stomping along. then it mellowed a bit, and out of nowhere, this woman who was quite younger, sitting with a man in the corner table (i thought they were just maybe tourists or there to have drinks and listen) began to sing this long sort of birdsong. she had the most beautiful voice, it was like an angel was speaking. and everyone just stopped and listened and then applauded and continued to the next song. she was obviously a regular in the group. i think we were the only people who weren't. anyway, it was a lovely evening. after the music, we had dinner at a pub on the royal mile and i tried haggis (a traditional scottish dish that contains minced sheep organs) and it was strangely good. It's always nice to sit down with someone and really talk while consuming something hot.
that's enough for this post i think.
xx
so that monday, i can't remember the date, catie and i woke up in glasgow, in susan's home, very very early, dropped catie off at the airport, then went into the city centre where my bus would leave from. we were a bit early, so susan and i sat and had a nice little chat at starbucks. we talked about jobs and what i'm going to do with my life after university. it was very nice, i felt like she was my aunt, not just my aunt's friend. then we said our goodbyes and it was a nice moment. she told me i should ring her whenever I'm in scotland next and that my dad must be very proud of me. i don't know if she meant for traveling or what, but it was sweet anyway.
I slept on the bus to Edinburgh and met my friend Laurel at the bus station (she had taken the night bus all the way from london). We checked in at our hostel which, I have to say, was really really great. much nicer than I thought, cool young workers, cheap good food, comfy beds. our bunk room had classy red wine-colored walls and themed sherlock holmes. nice. after we ate and locked up our things, we walked up the Royal Mile, browsed through the many plaid and cashmere shops and visited the castle.
I think the exterior was used in some of the harry potter films?
see the city
playground
we did a bit of shopping, got bored at the national gallery, went back to the hostel. we found out earlier from a lady at a music shop that the place next door to our hostel has good traditional live music, so we went to check it out. and it was more beautiful than i had expected. we left the rain to step inside a little bar named after the Hebrides, a cluster of islands off the west coast of scotland. inside this bar was a different world. a community of people, young and old, but mostly old, who are such close neighbors and spend their evenings together singing and drinking. laurel and i sat there watching them, drinking our tea, smiling, clapping. they asked us where we were from, why we were drinking tea instead of beer, and we all laughed. one guy who kept looking at me, acknowledging me like a new friend, pointed at my mug as he walked by and said "what is this shit?" said it was bad for the organs compared to beer. we smiled. it wasn't a rude gesture. it was like we had become close acquaintances without exchanging more than 4 words. i can't remember the last time someone used the word shit with me out of respect and common ground and friendliness and humour. how had we found this place?
it was so warm and toasty and there was a big circle of men playing instruments and singing from an old book of Scottish songs. it was mostly men singing, old buddies. they would add in and out of the harmony, some singing, some playing, some just clapping or stomping along. then it mellowed a bit, and out of nowhere, this woman who was quite younger, sitting with a man in the corner table (i thought they were just maybe tourists or there to have drinks and listen) began to sing this long sort of birdsong. she had the most beautiful voice, it was like an angel was speaking. and everyone just stopped and listened and then applauded and continued to the next song. she was obviously a regular in the group. i think we were the only people who weren't. anyway, it was a lovely evening. after the music, we had dinner at a pub on the royal mile and i tried haggis (a traditional scottish dish that contains minced sheep organs) and it was strangely good. It's always nice to sit down with someone and really talk while consuming something hot.
that's enough for this post i think.
xx
Saturday, December 4, 2010
continuing from before
I now have about 2 weeks left in london. before anything in my life can move on right now, i have to finish telling about the past two weeks. too much has happened, i'm about to forget.
picking up where i left off, glasgow. i have some photos to accompany the post that was two posts ago:
view from a cemetery in glasgow
city centre
glaswegian pedestrians
The rest are here:
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/Glasgow/
xx
picking up where i left off, glasgow. i have some photos to accompany the post that was two posts ago:
view from a cemetery in glasgow
city centre
glaswegian pedestrians
The rest are here:
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/Glasgow/
xx
Friday, December 3, 2010
still smiling, high on arcade fire
okey, so. i have a lot to catch up on here.
but first, i have to re-enact last night. because,
it was possibly the greatest night i have had in london so far.
arcade fire at 02 arena in greenwich.
the best show i have seen in MY LIFE.
i am telling you, these people, this band. they are absolutely amazing. every encounter i have with their music makes me fall in love with them all over again. i get chills, sometimes tears, words cannot describe my love for arcade fire. not only are they beautiful musicians, but their lyrics describe the suburban childhood that so many of us can relate to, so many americans. the crowd at the 02 was massive, but i was a bit more into it than my neighbors on the floor. i feel an american show might have an exponentially more explosive audience, but i don't know for sure.
a few videos to share. this first one, i really encourage anyone to watch, it is a sort of slow motion of them performing 'ready to start' a song from their newest album called Suburbs. to be honest, the first time i watched this video, i had tears in my eyes.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oI27uSzxNQ
proud to say their performance of this at the show last night was equally epic. god. i think win butler may be god. my friend jenny touched his leg at the show. we got soo close to the stage, despite being in a huge stadium (i couldn't find the exact number of people it can hold on its website, but i did find out the eiffel tower could fit inside it lying on its side and that it could be filled with 3.8 billion pints of beer. so.. it's big.) we wouldn't have gotten so close if it weren't for the guys we were with, jenny's friends, pushing our way up to the front. but people didn't care, we were the biggest fans there.
here, my one photo that was not too blurry:
look at them. i didn't stop smiling during the whole show. not joking. well, except for the times that i was singing. :) ah it was gorgeous. they played all my favorite songs. they danced while playing, hopping around with the violins, regine looked like a fancy robot, win's brother with his fantastic open-mouthed expression, hitting everything with his drumsticks.
their 'Suburbs' has been a bit hit among kids of our generation. i think you will see why if you watch this video, the actual official music video..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Euj9f3gdyM
thoughts?
anyway, i am in love. completely.
I mean, how incredible are the Neighborhood Songs? Especially number 3 (power out):
i woke up with the power out
not really something to shout about
ice is covered up my parents' hands
don't have any dreams, don't have any plans
i went out into the night
i went out to find some light
kids are swingin' from the power lines
nobody's home so nobody minds
...
i went out into the night
i went out to pick a fight, but they won
light a candle for the kids
jesus christ, don't keep it hid
...
growin up in some strange storm
nobody's cold, nobody's warm
i went out into the night
i went out to find some light
kids are dyin' out in the snow
look at them go, look at 'em go.
and the power's out
in the heart of man
take it from your heart
put it in your hand
what's the plan?
is it a dream? is it a lie?
i think i'll let you decide.
light a candle for the kids,
jesus christ, don't keep it hid
cause nothing's hid from us kids
you ain't fooling nobody-with the lights out!
...etc.
wow.
but first, i have to re-enact last night. because,
it was possibly the greatest night i have had in london so far.
arcade fire at 02 arena in greenwich.
the best show i have seen in MY LIFE.
i am telling you, these people, this band. they are absolutely amazing. every encounter i have with their music makes me fall in love with them all over again. i get chills, sometimes tears, words cannot describe my love for arcade fire. not only are they beautiful musicians, but their lyrics describe the suburban childhood that so many of us can relate to, so many americans. the crowd at the 02 was massive, but i was a bit more into it than my neighbors on the floor. i feel an american show might have an exponentially more explosive audience, but i don't know for sure.
a few videos to share. this first one, i really encourage anyone to watch, it is a sort of slow motion of them performing 'ready to start' a song from their newest album called Suburbs. to be honest, the first time i watched this video, i had tears in my eyes.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oI27uSzxNQ
proud to say their performance of this at the show last night was equally epic. god. i think win butler may be god. my friend jenny touched his leg at the show. we got soo close to the stage, despite being in a huge stadium (i couldn't find the exact number of people it can hold on its website, but i did find out the eiffel tower could fit inside it lying on its side and that it could be filled with 3.8 billion pints of beer. so.. it's big.) we wouldn't have gotten so close if it weren't for the guys we were with, jenny's friends, pushing our way up to the front. but people didn't care, we were the biggest fans there.
here, my one photo that was not too blurry:
look at them. i didn't stop smiling during the whole show. not joking. well, except for the times that i was singing. :) ah it was gorgeous. they played all my favorite songs. they danced while playing, hopping around with the violins, regine looked like a fancy robot, win's brother with his fantastic open-mouthed expression, hitting everything with his drumsticks.
their 'Suburbs' has been a bit hit among kids of our generation. i think you will see why if you watch this video, the actual official music video..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Euj9f3gdyM
thoughts?
anyway, i am in love. completely.
I mean, how incredible are the Neighborhood Songs? Especially number 3 (power out):
i woke up with the power out
not really something to shout about
ice is covered up my parents' hands
don't have any dreams, don't have any plans
i went out into the night
i went out to find some light
kids are swingin' from the power lines
nobody's home so nobody minds
...
i went out into the night
i went out to pick a fight, but they won
light a candle for the kids
jesus christ, don't keep it hid
...
growin up in some strange storm
nobody's cold, nobody's warm
i went out into the night
i went out to find some light
kids are dyin' out in the snow
look at them go, look at 'em go.
and the power's out
in the heart of man
take it from your heart
put it in your hand
what's the plan?
is it a dream? is it a lie?
i think i'll let you decide.
light a candle for the kids,
jesus christ, don't keep it hid
cause nothing's hid from us kids
you ain't fooling nobody-with the lights out!
...etc.
wow.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
what it means to head north
this is the beginning of a lengthy summary of my trip so far these past several days. i will break it up so as not to bore. also, i'm still in dublin and don't have my camera cord, so it'll be a bit before photos get on here. just use your imagination.
wow, i am looking at my notebook of points to include from the past week, and it is a bit daunting. here goes..
My dear friend Catie came to london last friday. our phones don't connect because she has irish service, i have british, so it was difficult finding her when she arrived in london, but she eventually showed up on my campus and we united in joy. We ate dinner at the pub, tried to make it to fireworks for Guy Fawkes night, but missed them completely, walked around parliament at night. Catie is doing an internship with the parliament in dublin, so she was curious about westminster and all. A few of her friends (americans) from her program in dublin were in london for the weekend, so we met them at a pub called O'neils in Leicester Square. For those who don't know about leicester square, it's mad. It's the area of Central London where much of the high end theatre (broadway type) and huge clubs are. Think loud, sparkling, shimmering, dancing, colors, chaos. so we went to this pub, o'neils, that i'd heard of but did not know what to expect. it was really expensive, three stories (one for traditional bar, one for jam-packed crowd and live band, everyone singing and spilling their beers, and the top floor for dance club and smoking deck. i was skeptical at first, but it was pretty fun. We managed to get home before the tube closed and got up early the next morning to catch a bus and a plane to Glasgow.
susan, my aunt jody's friend from childhood was waiting for us at the airport in glasgow with a sign. she brought us to her lovely home, we met her husband tom and their dog suto, which is closer to a human than a dog i think. the whole weekend, he would bark this deep growling and susan would yell at him to go away and he would just growl louder. so funny, it was like a child bickering with its mother. saturday evening, we just chatted with susan and tom for a while and they took us out for a nice curry in the west end of glasgow, the university area where susan went to school. when we got back, i watched a BBC drama with tom while Catie used the computer and then we went to bed. In the morning, susan had breakfast for us, so sweet, and then she drove us by my dad's old house in newton mearns. he lived there from about age 7 to 12, during which susan was good friends with his sister. it was strange to hear susan tell stories about my dad and my grandparents from years ago when they lived in scotland. strange to meet someone who knew my family long before i did. Then susan dropped us off in glasgow city centre, and we took a bus tour around town, walked through an old cemetery with beautiful view of the city, got off the bus at a pub, got back on, got off cause i had to pee terribly bad, went to use the bathroom at a gambling shop, watched a man watch a horse race on a tv screen, took the bus to the west end, went to a couple vintage shops, ate mac n' cheese, got a pint, talked to some nice scottish folks at the pub, got picked up by susan in the rain, showered, went to bed early.
well, i'm bout to leave here, so i'll finish this story later.
and i will get back to the theme that is the title of this post when i tell the rest of the story.
sorry no photos or visuals, no time. later.
x
wow, i am looking at my notebook of points to include from the past week, and it is a bit daunting. here goes..
My dear friend Catie came to london last friday. our phones don't connect because she has irish service, i have british, so it was difficult finding her when she arrived in london, but she eventually showed up on my campus and we united in joy. We ate dinner at the pub, tried to make it to fireworks for Guy Fawkes night, but missed them completely, walked around parliament at night. Catie is doing an internship with the parliament in dublin, so she was curious about westminster and all. A few of her friends (americans) from her program in dublin were in london for the weekend, so we met them at a pub called O'neils in Leicester Square. For those who don't know about leicester square, it's mad. It's the area of Central London where much of the high end theatre (broadway type) and huge clubs are. Think loud, sparkling, shimmering, dancing, colors, chaos. so we went to this pub, o'neils, that i'd heard of but did not know what to expect. it was really expensive, three stories (one for traditional bar, one for jam-packed crowd and live band, everyone singing and spilling their beers, and the top floor for dance club and smoking deck. i was skeptical at first, but it was pretty fun. We managed to get home before the tube closed and got up early the next morning to catch a bus and a plane to Glasgow.
susan, my aunt jody's friend from childhood was waiting for us at the airport in glasgow with a sign. she brought us to her lovely home, we met her husband tom and their dog suto, which is closer to a human than a dog i think. the whole weekend, he would bark this deep growling and susan would yell at him to go away and he would just growl louder. so funny, it was like a child bickering with its mother. saturday evening, we just chatted with susan and tom for a while and they took us out for a nice curry in the west end of glasgow, the university area where susan went to school. when we got back, i watched a BBC drama with tom while Catie used the computer and then we went to bed. In the morning, susan had breakfast for us, so sweet, and then she drove us by my dad's old house in newton mearns. he lived there from about age 7 to 12, during which susan was good friends with his sister. it was strange to hear susan tell stories about my dad and my grandparents from years ago when they lived in scotland. strange to meet someone who knew my family long before i did. Then susan dropped us off in glasgow city centre, and we took a bus tour around town, walked through an old cemetery with beautiful view of the city, got off the bus at a pub, got back on, got off cause i had to pee terribly bad, went to use the bathroom at a gambling shop, watched a man watch a horse race on a tv screen, took the bus to the west end, went to a couple vintage shops, ate mac n' cheese, got a pint, talked to some nice scottish folks at the pub, got picked up by susan in the rain, showered, went to bed early.
well, i'm bout to leave here, so i'll finish this story later.
and i will get back to the theme that is the title of this post when i tell the rest of the story.
sorry no photos or visuals, no time. later.
x
Friday, November 12, 2010
reached the island
hiya,
i am in dublin now, staying with catie shawley, drinking guinness, partying with the irish folks.
it's quite a whirlwind, ten days of traveling, and then back to london tuesday morning in time to hopefully make it to lecture at 10am. we'll see if that works out. then i've loads of projects/essays to do next week, but hopefully will get back to this blog soon, as i have photos and words to put on about my trip around scotland and ireland.
it's been fun and funny so far. irish kids are funny. i never stop laughing at their jokes, until my face hurts. their accent is easier to understand in dublin than the londoners' which i didn't expect. they say 'like' at the end of sentences and they say 'zed' for the letter Z, just like the british. it is a good place, dublin. i feel safer than in london by far.
hope everyone is good,
cheers,
emily.
i am in dublin now, staying with catie shawley, drinking guinness, partying with the irish folks.
it's quite a whirlwind, ten days of traveling, and then back to london tuesday morning in time to hopefully make it to lecture at 10am. we'll see if that works out. then i've loads of projects/essays to do next week, but hopefully will get back to this blog soon, as i have photos and words to put on about my trip around scotland and ireland.
it's been fun and funny so far. irish kids are funny. i never stop laughing at their jokes, until my face hurts. their accent is easier to understand in dublin than the londoners' which i didn't expect. they say 'like' at the end of sentences and they say 'zed' for the letter Z, just like the british. it is a good place, dublin. i feel safer than in london by far.
hope everyone is good,
cheers,
emily.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
right then.
i have forgotten to mention all the escapades of the past week, and the weekend (a very lazy weekend, indeed) has already passed.
It is in fact monday evening, and I will quickly recount all that has happened in the past week before finishing my reading for tomorrow.
well, last monday I went to the Tate Modern art museum, to browse at leisure before visiting again this week for my class project. amidst the masses of children and their mom's on break from school running around and screaming and taking up too much space, i saw some good stuff.
tuesday went to a gig in Islington, one of the trendier boroughs in london. Joe, my flatmate, has a bunch of home friends from brighton who are in a band and they came up to london to play. they were all really nice, music was great, drummer amazing. i talked to him afterwards and told him i thought he was great. he said it's basically all he has time for, he doesn't have a girlfriend, doesn't go to school, has a shit job and just plays drums all day, and loves it. i said, that's gooood. and i meant it.
wednesday steven and i saw a performance by Charles Linehan Company, a UK-based modern dance company. It was lovely to watch, but my mind fell very quiet during the piece. Not that I didn't get anything out of it, it was just not very clear. I want to know more. Here's a video i found of some work/play Charles Linehan does in general..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kyG9aWQeN2g
thursday our flat had a big halloween party. i had soo much fun, almost too much fun, but fun nonetheless. a few of us went to new globe afterwards, because there was a halloween party there too. and the dj played all the right songs, i was singing and i was dancing. great time.
friday, complete laziness. saturday wandered around notting hill in search of julia roberts, stumbled upon portobello road market, famous for its antique jewelery of sorts. i almost bought a pocket watch.
sunday night, went out dancing to this club in soho called punk. i felt i was in one of those movies where there's a halloween party and everyone is dressed full-out in something terrifying and all are dancing to thriller with fake blood dripping from their mouths. this was that. it was AWESOME. there was a DJ and also this girl as his assistant who would randomly scream into the microphone during a song. i found myself bent-over laughing every time. just, pure madness. as halloween should be.
the website for punk is here: http://www.punksoho.co.uk/
I found out after going there that celebrities have also attended, like lady gaga!
here are some random photos from my camera:
The New Globe, exterior. pub on the corner, frequented by students.
part of St. Paul's Cathedral. Also, the ice cream truck with "MIND THAT CHILD!"...huh huh huh..
long strides, string bass, notting hill.
currently listening to:
zeppppppppelin duhhhhhhhh
18-minute drum solo man, it's caraaaaaaazy.
It is in fact monday evening, and I will quickly recount all that has happened in the past week before finishing my reading for tomorrow.
well, last monday I went to the Tate Modern art museum, to browse at leisure before visiting again this week for my class project. amidst the masses of children and their mom's on break from school running around and screaming and taking up too much space, i saw some good stuff.
tuesday went to a gig in Islington, one of the trendier boroughs in london. Joe, my flatmate, has a bunch of home friends from brighton who are in a band and they came up to london to play. they were all really nice, music was great, drummer amazing. i talked to him afterwards and told him i thought he was great. he said it's basically all he has time for, he doesn't have a girlfriend, doesn't go to school, has a shit job and just plays drums all day, and loves it. i said, that's gooood. and i meant it.
wednesday steven and i saw a performance by Charles Linehan Company, a UK-based modern dance company. It was lovely to watch, but my mind fell very quiet during the piece. Not that I didn't get anything out of it, it was just not very clear. I want to know more. Here's a video i found of some work/play Charles Linehan does in general..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kyG9aWQeN2g
thursday our flat had a big halloween party. i had soo much fun, almost too much fun, but fun nonetheless. a few of us went to new globe afterwards, because there was a halloween party there too. and the dj played all the right songs, i was singing and i was dancing. great time.
friday, complete laziness. saturday wandered around notting hill in search of julia roberts, stumbled upon portobello road market, famous for its antique jewelery of sorts. i almost bought a pocket watch.
sunday night, went out dancing to this club in soho called punk. i felt i was in one of those movies where there's a halloween party and everyone is dressed full-out in something terrifying and all are dancing to thriller with fake blood dripping from their mouths. this was that. it was AWESOME. there was a DJ and also this girl as his assistant who would randomly scream into the microphone during a song. i found myself bent-over laughing every time. just, pure madness. as halloween should be.
the website for punk is here: http://www.punksoho.co.uk/
I found out after going there that celebrities have also attended, like lady gaga!
here are some random photos from my camera:
The New Globe, exterior. pub on the corner, frequented by students.
part of St. Paul's Cathedral. Also, the ice cream truck with "MIND THAT CHILD!"...huh huh huh..
long strides, string bass, notting hill.
currently listening to:
zeppppppppelin duhhhhhhhh
18-minute drum solo man, it's caraaaaaaazy.
follow a stranger, and never let them go.
[[Do they suspect what I'm about to do? That guy is looking at me. Well I'll just wait here for a second and follow someone out of the station. That lady! She looks like a nice lady, like she wouldn't figure me out, she's got her headphones in and is on a mission...to the grocery store. Damn. Well I'll just wait outside and play with my phone a bit. Do do do. No big deal, just waiting for a friend. What are you looking at? Dum dee dum...Has she come out yet? Surely she must have. Did I miss her? Well she might've gone back on the tube anyway. Oh well. I'll have to find someone else. This girl. Fur jacket and hat seems a bit much for a day like today, but I like your pace. I can deal with this. Wait, did you just look back at me? I better stay further back. Oh good, yes, thanks dude, yeah, walk right between us, she'll never know. Alright, ok, this is a leisurely walk and you're not getting on a bus or anything, I like that. Because I'm not getting on a bus. But where are you going? And why are you slowing down so much? Is something wrong? Are you getting suspicious? You just turned your head again. shit. I don't think you've actually looked at me yet, but I think you know I'm here. I think you can sense I'm following you and have no other purpose but to follow you. If someone did that to me, I might in fact quicken my pace. Why are you not doing that? Do you want me to catch up with you? Do you want to see if I pass you? I won't. Oh, what, wait? You're going into a store? But why. Well, I'll wait for you out here then. No, I can't do this. She knows.]]
just a little excerpt from my journal while completing an activity for class: to stalk someone on the street.
interesting the way it makes different people feel, being a stalker. i've never been so paranoid. well, that's not true, but i felt uncomfortable the whole time.
we spent last class sharing our experiences with this, and some were quite funny. One guy followed his person for a long time, but lost him when he walked into a sandwich shop after the guy and frantically ordered a sandwich to not seem suspicious, not realizing that his sandwich would take time to cook, while his person's sandwich was a cold-cut. Another girl in class followed a man for almost two hours, and eventually lost him around a corner, cause she was keeping a good distance behind him. She felt a bit broken after she had become so attached to following him for so long. It is a dangerous activity, I felt as though I was in danger, as did most of my classmates.
We studied and tried to replicate the works of Vito Acconci and Sophie Calle in this exercise. Sophie Calle I find particularly interesting. Her projects seem to be generally self-centered and she is basically out of my league of practice/understanding, which is why I am so intrigued. I mean, she sounds completely mental. She once followed a man for several days, weeks maybe, followed him to work, home, out to eat, everywhere. She knew all his patterns. Somehow, they had a run-in and got to talking, he mentioned he was going to venice for the weekend. So she booked a flight to venice and continued to follow him there! A few years ago she did an exhibition at the Whitechapel Art Gallery (right down the street from my flat) involving the responses of a large variety of people of different professions (lawyer, linguist, artists of varying media) to a break-up email she had received from an ex-partner, so she could try and make sense of it. I mean, really.
http://www.whitechapelgallery.org/exhibitions/sophie-calle-talking-to-strangers
umm, I refuse to make a post without a visual, because it's boring. So here is this. Not quite associated with Sophie Calle, but along the same lines of voyeurism, flanerie, le derive, observing people, etc. This is just one of the vast array of incredible photography by Henri Cartier-Bresson, a recent favorite of mine after seeing his work at the Art Institute in Chicago.
just a little excerpt from my journal while completing an activity for class: to stalk someone on the street.
interesting the way it makes different people feel, being a stalker. i've never been so paranoid. well, that's not true, but i felt uncomfortable the whole time.
we spent last class sharing our experiences with this, and some were quite funny. One guy followed his person for a long time, but lost him when he walked into a sandwich shop after the guy and frantically ordered a sandwich to not seem suspicious, not realizing that his sandwich would take time to cook, while his person's sandwich was a cold-cut. Another girl in class followed a man for almost two hours, and eventually lost him around a corner, cause she was keeping a good distance behind him. She felt a bit broken after she had become so attached to following him for so long. It is a dangerous activity, I felt as though I was in danger, as did most of my classmates.
We studied and tried to replicate the works of Vito Acconci and Sophie Calle in this exercise. Sophie Calle I find particularly interesting. Her projects seem to be generally self-centered and she is basically out of my league of practice/understanding, which is why I am so intrigued. I mean, she sounds completely mental. She once followed a man for several days, weeks maybe, followed him to work, home, out to eat, everywhere. She knew all his patterns. Somehow, they had a run-in and got to talking, he mentioned he was going to venice for the weekend. So she booked a flight to venice and continued to follow him there! A few years ago she did an exhibition at the Whitechapel Art Gallery (right down the street from my flat) involving the responses of a large variety of people of different professions (lawyer, linguist, artists of varying media) to a break-up email she had received from an ex-partner, so she could try and make sense of it. I mean, really.
http://www.whitechapelgallery.org/exhibitions/sophie-calle-talking-to-strangers
umm, I refuse to make a post without a visual, because it's boring. So here is this. Not quite associated with Sophie Calle, but along the same lines of voyeurism, flanerie, le derive, observing people, etc. This is just one of the vast array of incredible photography by Henri Cartier-Bresson, a recent favorite of mine after seeing his work at the Art Institute in Chicago.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
optimism in a city half-empty of life
a few art projects being discussed in my class, ways of making the most out of potholes, construction, and the like of a dirty city.
http://www.petedungey.com/2010/project_pages/pothole_gardens.php
http://www.mis-guide.com/anywhere.html
http://www.frieze.com/issue/article/suite_venitienne/
and now i must go stalk someone on the street as a project for the class. i'll let you know how it goes. i'm kind of nervous.
xx
http://www.petedungey.com/2010/project_pages/pothole_gardens.php
http://www.mis-guide.com/anywhere.html
http://www.frieze.com/issue/article/suite_venitienne/
and now i must go stalk someone on the street as a project for the class. i'll let you know how it goes. i'm kind of nervous.
xx
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
this is england.
last year, i happened upon this film called This is England, written/directed by Shane Meadows in 2006. It was a piece of art to me, the story struck me, disturbed me, and the characters were spot on, and the fashion of it all appealed to me, still does.
now Shane Meadows has come out with a follow-up of four television episodes with the same actors, set in '86, a few years after the film when the kids are a bit older. And I find the show to be just as brilliant as the film. of course, i only post things on here that i find to be brilliant or worth looking at again.
swear i'm not just spending my time in london watching tv..
also, i can see this blog is becoming sometimes more of me expressing interesting things i've come across rather then just the adventures i'm taking. i apologize that it may seem more of a journal for myself than for those back home at times, but adventures will be posted as they come still. i find the blog to be a much more productive form of procrastination than facebook ever was, and a good way for me to keep track of the things i've been seeing and listening to and watching, so i can come back to them later easily.
hope all is well in the USA.
cheers.
now Shane Meadows has come out with a follow-up of four television episodes with the same actors, set in '86, a few years after the film when the kids are a bit older. And I find the show to be just as brilliant as the film. of course, i only post things on here that i find to be brilliant or worth looking at again.
swear i'm not just spending my time in london watching tv..
also, i can see this blog is becoming sometimes more of me expressing interesting things i've come across rather then just the adventures i'm taking. i apologize that it may seem more of a journal for myself than for those back home at times, but adventures will be posted as they come still. i find the blog to be a much more productive form of procrastination than facebook ever was, and a good way for me to keep track of the things i've been seeing and listening to and watching, so i can come back to them later easily.
hope all is well in the USA.
cheers.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
?
i think the gods have put a curse on sundays to make it impossible for anyone to get any work done.
i can't possibly be the only one who feels this way. sundays, right. what's it about?
i can't possibly be the only one who feels this way. sundays, right. what's it about?
midwest america
sunday afternoon, laundry day, sunny day, reading a bit, listening to my boy atmosphere rapping about the midwest, and minnesota specifically.
and so, feeling nostalgic about the land of lakes and greenness and beautiful people.
though i love the excitement of a huge city, there is something great about the small-town mood of the midwest. the minnesota-nice. i bicker with it like it's my family, but i love it in the same way, and will love coming home to it.
this video has two songs in one. first one is good, but the second one is about minneapolis and why the midwest is beautiful and great. because you can drink the tap water and breathe the air and the people are lovely. if you don't have time for 9 minutes of great music, then skip to about 4:30 when second part begins. for my minneapolis family, i know you already love atmosphere. this is for my family in chicago who doesn't know him yet.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xvugcOOUdJc
and so, feeling nostalgic about the land of lakes and greenness and beautiful people.
though i love the excitement of a huge city, there is something great about the small-town mood of the midwest. the minnesota-nice. i bicker with it like it's my family, but i love it in the same way, and will love coming home to it.
this video has two songs in one. first one is good, but the second one is about minneapolis and why the midwest is beautiful and great. because you can drink the tap water and breathe the air and the people are lovely. if you don't have time for 9 minutes of great music, then skip to about 4:30 when second part begins. for my minneapolis family, i know you already love atmosphere. this is for my family in chicago who doesn't know him yet.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xvugcOOUdJc
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Protest at Downing Street
Chancellor of Britain, George Osborne, announced the UK spending review last week, and it brought an uproar with it. In order to get the country out of debt, large cuts will be made, lots of public service jobs will be cut, and the cost of university education will increase tremendously. more details can be found here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/special_reports/spending_review/
so, of course, there was a protest at Downing Street, near Parliament in Westminster, and of course I went to observe. I find it fascinating to compare the situations and the performance of the demonstration from what I have experienced in the US. I was quite impressed by the amount of people that showed up for the march, there had to have been upwards of 2,000 students and workers participating in the march. But I found the crowd to be less aggressive and the police presence to be very weak and submissive as compared to the couple of large protests I've attended at home. There were only a handful of cops spaced here and there, and they did not seem to carry weapons, at least not guns (as opposed to an armed riot cop for every protester in Arizona this past summer). When the speaker on the platform asked the police to withdraw to allow the march to enter into the area, they stepped away immediately, obeying the organizer at the mic. I've never seen this before, but I suppose it was meant to be a peaceful march, and it remained faithful to that, so there was no need for armed or aggressive police.
I do find we are all fighting for similar things. The organizers at this rally made it clear that if those in power, the cabinet of millionaires, would make paycuts to their own salaries, the country would be in much less debt, and the general public and working class would not have to pay for it. The students here are refusing to accept their tuition being jacked up (though it would still be much less than we pay in the US), and I honor them all in solidarity. We are dealing with the same issues in the US, as are people across Europe and around the world.
Instead of doing work, I have taken the time to edit a few photos to show comparison between the protest against SB 1070 in Phoenix, AZ this Summer 2010 and this protest on Downing Street last week. This is not to compare the reasons for demonstration, because they are quite different, but just to notice a difference perhaps in the atmosphere of the event. or anything, really, any comments or points of discussion are welcomed. thx.
Phoenix, July 2010
Downing Street, London, October 2010
Unfortunately, blogspot is too weak to upload video files straight onto the post. So here are more photos from the protest:
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/Protest%20at%20Downing%20Street/
and here is an album of video footage i took:
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/Protest%20at%20Downing%20Street/Videos%20from%20Downing%20Street%20March/
I don't know how many people are really interested in this, but I put it up in case anyone is. Not sure how familiar anyone is with the British government. One of the videos didn't upload because it was too long, and I'm not very savvy on how to splice video clips. Also, photobucket doesn't let me order them, so they are in backwards order I believe. Should be the introductory speaker first, then the first wave of the march, then more of the march, then more speakers. If you watch them all, that was the order in which they occurred.
anyway enjoy.
xx
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/special_reports/spending_review/
so, of course, there was a protest at Downing Street, near Parliament in Westminster, and of course I went to observe. I find it fascinating to compare the situations and the performance of the demonstration from what I have experienced in the US. I was quite impressed by the amount of people that showed up for the march, there had to have been upwards of 2,000 students and workers participating in the march. But I found the crowd to be less aggressive and the police presence to be very weak and submissive as compared to the couple of large protests I've attended at home. There were only a handful of cops spaced here and there, and they did not seem to carry weapons, at least not guns (as opposed to an armed riot cop for every protester in Arizona this past summer). When the speaker on the platform asked the police to withdraw to allow the march to enter into the area, they stepped away immediately, obeying the organizer at the mic. I've never seen this before, but I suppose it was meant to be a peaceful march, and it remained faithful to that, so there was no need for armed or aggressive police.
I do find we are all fighting for similar things. The organizers at this rally made it clear that if those in power, the cabinet of millionaires, would make paycuts to their own salaries, the country would be in much less debt, and the general public and working class would not have to pay for it. The students here are refusing to accept their tuition being jacked up (though it would still be much less than we pay in the US), and I honor them all in solidarity. We are dealing with the same issues in the US, as are people across Europe and around the world.
Instead of doing work, I have taken the time to edit a few photos to show comparison between the protest against SB 1070 in Phoenix, AZ this Summer 2010 and this protest on Downing Street last week. This is not to compare the reasons for demonstration, because they are quite different, but just to notice a difference perhaps in the atmosphere of the event. or anything, really, any comments or points of discussion are welcomed. thx.
Phoenix, July 2010
Downing Street, London, October 2010
Unfortunately, blogspot is too weak to upload video files straight onto the post. So here are more photos from the protest:
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/Protest%20at%20Downing%20Street/
and here is an album of video footage i took:
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/Protest%20at%20Downing%20Street/Videos%20from%20Downing%20Street%20March/
I don't know how many people are really interested in this, but I put it up in case anyone is. Not sure how familiar anyone is with the British government. One of the videos didn't upload because it was too long, and I'm not very savvy on how to splice video clips. Also, photobucket doesn't let me order them, so they are in backwards order I believe. Should be the introductory speaker first, then the first wave of the march, then more of the march, then more speakers. If you watch them all, that was the order in which they occurred.
anyway enjoy.
xx
four items, unrelated.
1..looking out the window of a photo gallery near brick lane. that old bus is a vegetarian restaurant. apparently.
2..laundry/myroom.
3..there is this tv channel here that you can access on youtube, called 4od. It's got some really good documentaries and all sorts of things, dramas, comedy, everything. below is a link to one i started watching last night but found it too ridiculous (a musical about traffic on the A1 highway from London to Edinburgh sung from the perspectives of different drivers) and myself too tired to finish it. I'm not sure it's accessible in the US, but try it.
http://www.youtube.com/show/a1
4..my days here usually follow the routine of me sleeping later than I'd planned, waking up for class or walking the city, coming home for dinner, socializing a bit, and drowning myself in music into the evening. Since music is such a crucial part of my day, i think i must reveal what i'm listening to on occasion, as a recommendation or just as an anecdote. whichever you prefer.
currently playing on repeat, singing on the streets, etc:
"Young Girl Sunday Blues," Jefferson Airplane.
cheers,
xx
incidence
The other night we were at New Globe, the pub right outside the gates of the University, where all the students gather. Thursday nights are student nights, only QM students allowed, meaning anyone and everyone from QM comes and a bouncer shows up for intimidation and to stamp hands.
so, we're standing outside in the crowd of people on the sidewalk, having a merry time, when there is a slight crashing noise and people start yelling and pointing and the cars on one side of the street get all backed up in a matter of seconds. A car had just (don't ask me how) managed to hit the gate to the crosswalk, flip itself completely over the median crosswalk and was upside down on the opposite side of the street. !!!. yes, this happened on the very straight road called Mile End, right outside the gate to the QM campus. then two firetrucks, an ambulance, and other rescue vehicle came with sirens and lights while drunks of all kinds ran down the street in fascination. I'm hoping the person is alright, because it looked awful, the entire roof and windshield were crushed on the pavement. Some guy I recognized from orientation told me the driver was fine and was standing on the other side of the median, but who can trust someone who is slobbering and slurring away from all his mates? Needless to say, that was a night.
Next day, my flatmate Steven and I went to our second screening of the BFI London Film Festival. We had seen one on Thursday called Heartbeats, a French-Canadian film about two friends, Marie and Francis, who both fall in love with a new friend Nicolas. It was really beautiful, and lots of slow motion and just colors and blur and people, all of it beautiful and real and artistically excellent. Xavier Dolan directed and starred in this, his second film at age 21. His first film was also taken to some festival, I can't remember which, and it won. He's a genius. And looks adorable. I want him to be my friend.
Friday we saw a film from Chad, also in French, called The Screaming Man. It was good, but I was a bit sleepy and struggled to stay awake for some of it. But it was also pretty, and powerful, and gave me good memories of Tanzania. After the film, Steven and I met some other friends on Brick Lane and haggled for curry and wine (there are about 8 different curry restaurants along brick lane and each one has a man standing outside at dinner time telling everyone who passes by (You want curry! I make you a deal, 3 course meal and drink for 10 pound each!) So we found the cheapest one and bargained a bit since we had a group of people. Oh, but first while Steven and I waited for the others to get to brick lane, we were browsing the designers and the shops and we came to this record shop called Rough Trade. It was great, lots of albums and art books and magazines and things of all types. And then we realized some event was going on in the back of the store. There were cameramen ready to film something, and a little stage set up with a few chairs, but no one sitting in them yet. And..there was an open bar..? And a man walking around with a tray of bottled beer and glasses of champagne giving to customers for free! We were in the right place at the right time. I still don't know what they were getting ready to film, but we had a lovely time drinking free beer and listening to great music and feeling all important like we were at some special record label event for important people.
Later, we went to a hookah lounge, excitedly. but were disappointed because, although the name of the place is "Hookah Lounge," since smoking is banned indoors, customers have to take the hookah and hold it outside to use it.....lame. so we got drinks there instead and talked and watched the people walk by outside, laughed at the people carrying three huge red block sculptures spelling "NO!" i got tea and it was tasty. the people who worked there reminded me of minneapolis, of seward cafe. mmmm.
Today I went to this art festival with Lauren and Steven before going to see a film they had to see for a class. I tagged along because it was a documentary of this dance that was performed last year in a festival in Greenwich. At the art festival, we saw two exhibitions, both very weird. The first was in an old crypt beneath a church, where there are graves of important people dating from 1800s. A group of artists set up their work there. Some of it was paintings of monsters, mythological creatures or freaks from a freakshow. Some neat collages. A lot of sculptures using either junk and found objects or baby doll parts and pieces of mannequins. Everything was equally weird, cool, eerie, and creepy. If it wasn't well lit, I might have been really scared. Then we took turns walking through this installation that an art student had created for her graduate project. She had been working on how to express theatre to people who cannot hear or see, and working with ways of experiencing art through different senses, while depriving others. So we were blindfolded and had headphones reciting poetry from Shakespeare's The Tempest while we walked through sand, stones, wind, flashing lights, and materials of varying textures to resemble a beach and a rainstorm, all the while following a rope, never losing it or letting it go, following it up and down and around, even when it was stuck to the wall, until we reached the other side. I felt strange afterwards, being able to see again but having my ears and sense of touch being so unusually aware. I dug it.
We grabbed lunch and continued on to Greenwich to watch a film of Rosemary Lee's "Common Dance," as part of the Dance Umbrella festival. The piece was performed last year at the Dance Umbrella in the same room in which we viewed the documentary. And Rosemary Lee was there to introduce the film and explain her piece. Fifty dancers were involved, ages 8 to 80, and many of them were with us in the audience watching the film.
Here is a clip about it, if you're interested:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GfWEWwrGJqA
And I bought a ticket to a performance of a UK dance company for this Wednesday! I feel I've been without dance for too long now, so I'm excited to see a performance. And even more, I'm having the urges to get into a class and move again. hmmmmm. I had forgotten about that world until I recently saw a clip of a UDT piece my friends in minneapolis are working on now, and then this film I saw today. Why am I not dancing. i neeeeed itt.
so, we're standing outside in the crowd of people on the sidewalk, having a merry time, when there is a slight crashing noise and people start yelling and pointing and the cars on one side of the street get all backed up in a matter of seconds. A car had just (don't ask me how) managed to hit the gate to the crosswalk, flip itself completely over the median crosswalk and was upside down on the opposite side of the street. !!!. yes, this happened on the very straight road called Mile End, right outside the gate to the QM campus. then two firetrucks, an ambulance, and other rescue vehicle came with sirens and lights while drunks of all kinds ran down the street in fascination. I'm hoping the person is alright, because it looked awful, the entire roof and windshield were crushed on the pavement. Some guy I recognized from orientation told me the driver was fine and was standing on the other side of the median, but who can trust someone who is slobbering and slurring away from all his mates? Needless to say, that was a night.
Next day, my flatmate Steven and I went to our second screening of the BFI London Film Festival. We had seen one on Thursday called Heartbeats, a French-Canadian film about two friends, Marie and Francis, who both fall in love with a new friend Nicolas. It was really beautiful, and lots of slow motion and just colors and blur and people, all of it beautiful and real and artistically excellent. Xavier Dolan directed and starred in this, his second film at age 21. His first film was also taken to some festival, I can't remember which, and it won. He's a genius. And looks adorable. I want him to be my friend.
Friday we saw a film from Chad, also in French, called The Screaming Man. It was good, but I was a bit sleepy and struggled to stay awake for some of it. But it was also pretty, and powerful, and gave me good memories of Tanzania. After the film, Steven and I met some other friends on Brick Lane and haggled for curry and wine (there are about 8 different curry restaurants along brick lane and each one has a man standing outside at dinner time telling everyone who passes by (You want curry! I make you a deal, 3 course meal and drink for 10 pound each!) So we found the cheapest one and bargained a bit since we had a group of people. Oh, but first while Steven and I waited for the others to get to brick lane, we were browsing the designers and the shops and we came to this record shop called Rough Trade. It was great, lots of albums and art books and magazines and things of all types. And then we realized some event was going on in the back of the store. There were cameramen ready to film something, and a little stage set up with a few chairs, but no one sitting in them yet. And..there was an open bar..? And a man walking around with a tray of bottled beer and glasses of champagne giving to customers for free! We were in the right place at the right time. I still don't know what they were getting ready to film, but we had a lovely time drinking free beer and listening to great music and feeling all important like we were at some special record label event for important people.
Later, we went to a hookah lounge, excitedly. but were disappointed because, although the name of the place is "Hookah Lounge," since smoking is banned indoors, customers have to take the hookah and hold it outside to use it.....lame. so we got drinks there instead and talked and watched the people walk by outside, laughed at the people carrying three huge red block sculptures spelling "NO!" i got tea and it was tasty. the people who worked there reminded me of minneapolis, of seward cafe. mmmm.
Today I went to this art festival with Lauren and Steven before going to see a film they had to see for a class. I tagged along because it was a documentary of this dance that was performed last year in a festival in Greenwich. At the art festival, we saw two exhibitions, both very weird. The first was in an old crypt beneath a church, where there are graves of important people dating from 1800s. A group of artists set up their work there. Some of it was paintings of monsters, mythological creatures or freaks from a freakshow. Some neat collages. A lot of sculptures using either junk and found objects or baby doll parts and pieces of mannequins. Everything was equally weird, cool, eerie, and creepy. If it wasn't well lit, I might have been really scared. Then we took turns walking through this installation that an art student had created for her graduate project. She had been working on how to express theatre to people who cannot hear or see, and working with ways of experiencing art through different senses, while depriving others. So we were blindfolded and had headphones reciting poetry from Shakespeare's The Tempest while we walked through sand, stones, wind, flashing lights, and materials of varying textures to resemble a beach and a rainstorm, all the while following a rope, never losing it or letting it go, following it up and down and around, even when it was stuck to the wall, until we reached the other side. I felt strange afterwards, being able to see again but having my ears and sense of touch being so unusually aware. I dug it.
We grabbed lunch and continued on to Greenwich to watch a film of Rosemary Lee's "Common Dance," as part of the Dance Umbrella festival. The piece was performed last year at the Dance Umbrella in the same room in which we viewed the documentary. And Rosemary Lee was there to introduce the film and explain her piece. Fifty dancers were involved, ages 8 to 80, and many of them were with us in the audience watching the film.
Here is a clip about it, if you're interested:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GfWEWwrGJqA
And I bought a ticket to a performance of a UK dance company for this Wednesday! I feel I've been without dance for too long now, so I'm excited to see a performance. And even more, I'm having the urges to get into a class and move again. hmmmmm. I had forgotten about that world until I recently saw a clip of a UDT piece my friends in minneapolis are working on now, and then this film I saw today. Why am I not dancing. i neeeeed itt.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
flu
I am feeling a bit ill, hoping to not catch the "freshers' flu" that people talk about. I do get a bit annoyed when we have to sit so close in lectures and people just cough all over me with no remorse.
Just got a brochure in the mail from the local doctor about getting a flu shot. Except they call it a jab rather than a shot.
"Do you need to have a flu jab? The best time to have a jab is between late September and November..."
Well I certainly will NOT be getting anything that involves a needle being JABBED into me. no thankyou.
xx
Just got a brochure in the mail from the local doctor about getting a flu shot. Except they call it a jab rather than a shot.
"Do you need to have a flu jab? The best time to have a jab is between late September and November..."
Well I certainly will NOT be getting anything that involves a needle being JABBED into me. no thankyou.
xx
Monday, October 18, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Brick Lane
I forgot to mention brick lane, a place of grungy hipsters, vintage shops, and graffiti. the only place of this type i've found thus far.
and we talked about graffiti in class this past week. we were required to take a walk and find some of Banksy's work on Brick Ln (Banksy is a known artist who paints critical/thought-provoking images in cities throughout Europe. Here are some photos of the paint on brick lane that my group found (I believe the cop on the toilet at least is banksy's work, but I'm not completely sure, it is in his style though)..
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/Brick%20Lane%20Graffiti/
Also, check out this artist from Argentina. craazy. you may appreciate this one more while taking certain drugs, but not all of this artist's work is trippy like this one. still, give it a look, it's really cool. i'm wondering how long it took to complete the project.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uuGaqLT-gO4
Cheers,
xx
emily
Saturday, October 16, 2010
say yes to impulse, say no to hesitance, say yes to adventure and strange places, say no to regrets, say YES to the unknown, just say yes.
my friend hannah came to visit. we wandered londontown, got lost, found treasures, picked berries, had picnics, wandered, got lost, found beauty in everything, cherished the warmth of the sun, made the best of nothing, journeyed to the ancient countryside, got lost, found a forest, slept in the forest, woke up with the sun and the rooster, wandered, took a bus, took a train, observed the prized academia, sniffed the roses, wandered, took a bus back to londontown, saw a broadway musical with puppets.
that is the story, in short. here is the story in length, and glory..
the first day hannah was here, we got bread and cheese and fruit from the store and had a breakfast picnic in the rare sunshine in the park right across the canal from my residence hall. Then we walked along the canal. We meant to follow it until it connects with the river, but I unknowingly chose the opposite direction. And it was a beautiful walk, a path lower than the roads and the home of an interesting sub-culture of bicyclists, children playing, and houseboats. People living in houseboats the size of vans with gardens growing out of the roofs and bikes parked to the sides, all docked to the side of the canal. And there was a lady who had a coffee-boat, selling coffee and tea and sandwiches and pastries from inside her boat to people on the path along the canal. She was so cute! Eventually, we found ourselves in a neighborhood that I knew not of and so we wandered around a bit, later finding out it was the borough of Islington. We walked by a school and a playground with lots of little kids and into a central area of lots of coffee shops and bars and restaurants and cool people i think. We had planned to walk the canal towards the river and then cross the river to go to the Globe Theatre and maybe see a show if there were tickets available. But since we walked North instead, we decided to follow the original plan and take the tube across the river to the Globe. We looked lost, looking at our map for the nearest tube station in islington, and this man stopped and asked us if we needed help and then pointed us in the right direction. how strange and sweet. I often am surprised by how kind and warm people are here. I haven't been to New York yet, but I reckon people here may be a bit nicer from what I have heard. (ahaa i just realized i sometimes have a british voice stuck in my head almost and i start writing in the british character, like 'reckon' hahaha). I forget who told me but someone recently said that women pick up accents more than men, not sure why but i do agree.
anyway, we went to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, all cheap tickets were sold out. So I took Hannah to this pub nearby that has really good meat pies and classic British food and ale, etc. The only time I had been to it before was on a weeknight and it was very comfy and homey and warm inside. On this night, it was still all of those things, but also it was incredibly crowded inside and out with working people having drinks on a Friday evening after the work week. So much cheer, so many friends, men in suits with their beers, laughing and laughing. greatness. After dinner, we went back and my flatmate Joe was about to go out with some of our friends, so we joined them and went to the New Globe, the closest pub to campus, about a block away and full of good music and students from my school.
Saturday, we slept late and made breakfast in the flat, pancakes topped with a plum sauce from the plums Hannah picked and brought from Germany. Then we attempted to visit the Victoria and Albert Museum, but we got there too late and we couldn't find it. hah. so we went to hyde park instead since we were near it, and ate at this open-air cafe on the canal overlooking hyde park and complete with stone patio, old metal tables and chairs, seagulls and ducks and swans playing, and people enjoying each other's company, very euro it felt. After that, it was getting late, but we still hung onto the idea of possibly going to the theatre if we could get there in time and there were tickets available. It's amazing the way we would just chance things all the time and make something out of plans that didn't work out, so I trusted our luck on this one. By the time we found the National Theatre, across the river, it was nearing 7:30 which is showtime. We asked at the counter for Hamlet tickets, but that show had started at 7 already. So we asked at another counter for a different show. Sold out. Damn. We took a bathroom break, wiped out sweat from running to the theatre, and checked one more counter (there are multiple theatres at the National). We had to go outside and find the entrance to this one, and there was a man opening the door for us because it was about to start and he hurried us inside and said, pick up your tickets there! But we didn't have any, so I asked the guy at the counter if there were any left, and he said "sure, ten pounds each, and then just right up those stairs, show starts in 2 minutes" in the calmest voice I had heard all day. Wait, what? We got into a show? There were tickets left? We hurried up to find out seats, not even knowing what the show was about. And it turned out to be really good, modern theatre, a show about an elderly gay couple (played by some very eerie puppets and with the assistance of an all male cast with the exception of the narrator) and the memories they are dealing with at the end of their lives and the difficulties that come with writing a will. It was a beautiful piece, beautiful puppetry, and it made me think a lot. After the show, we walked along the river until we found a good-looking bar where we had some bread, wine, and dessert while discussing the piece we just saw.
The next day, the ADVENTURE began. The plan: go to Oxford University and the Cotswolds, probably camp out in the Cotswolds to avoid paying for a hostel. That last part sounded really exciting when Hannah first suggested it, and then the night before the trip I just kept thinking about it and becoming more and more scared. I love the wilderness and the wild and the trees and the grass and I like to camp, but in a strange place, an ancient stone village built in the 1100s that has only one road leading from it to other villages, and without a tent or anything? Whaatttt.
I tried to convince myself it would be fine, but decided we should just check in with the hostel to see if they have any rooms when we get there, just as a back-up. So we ventured into Central London Saturday morning, waited a very long time for our bus, which was late because there was a marathon in London and none of the coach buses could get into the city. We took the bus to Oxford University and then hopped on a train to the quaint Cotswold town of Moreton-in-Marsh. Then we walked 4 miles South to the village of Stow-on-the-Wold, as planned. Looking at Google Maps beforehand, this seemed like no problem. Four miles sounds like a lot, but Google said it would take an hour and a half. I've walked for an hour and a half many a time, easy. I didn't consider the fact that I would be carrying a light but bulky bag with quilt attached, or that the 4 miles would be traveled on the one main road connecting the cotswold villages, with no sidewalk or any sort of clearing for pedestrians alongside the fast-moving traffic. It was a bit challenging, and I did feel as if I might sprain an ankle at any given moment, or be hit by a car, but neither casualty occurred. In fact, none did. We walked through the vast countryside, sweating profusely, and smiling at the flowers and the hills and each time we almost tripped and each time a car beeped in encouragement and in salute of travelers. It did feel strong, I felt strong. What must people think of two women hiking this way? Surely, Alexander Supertramp was not the only brave soul. hah.
So we found Stow-on-the-Wold finally, and we were completely exhausted. We checked in at the hostel, and they had no rooms available. There were plenty of other hotels, but they would have been much more expensive, and besides, we were going to sleep outside with the animals. We ate and drank at a pub with all the local folks and a charming old bartender. It felt like we were in someone's living room, and I got a little homesick because it reminded me of warm meals at grandma and grandpa's house, and the thought of not sleeping in a warm bed disturbed me a little. We hadn't had a chance to find a spot before eating and now it was dark. But I had brought a flashlight, so we changed into our many layers of clothing at the pub, finished our drinks, and headed out to find our haven out in the unknown. We had noticed an area of land the went down and down a rolling hill from the street when we arrived in the village, so we went back to that. It was all grassy and sectioned off by a fence on either side. We couldn't see all the way down the hill, which was quite scary, but we could tell their was a farm property on one side of the fence. So we checked the other fence and found it to just enclose a small forest with a hill going up to meet the road on the other side. We squeezed under the barbed wire and found quiet in a bed of moss and leaves, protected by a canopy of trees overhead. It felt very safe, much safer than I could have imagined. We were enclosed by the fence on one side and the hill and road on the other. We could faintly hear cars if they were to pass by up on the street, which was comforting. And there were no large creatures, we had not trespassed on anyone's home. I squashed some stinging nettle with my shoe, we spread out our quilts, chatted, read to each other, drank wine, and fell asleep on the forest floor, with the sound of the leaves falling every so often. It did get cold in the night, and we had to keep switching sides, huddled up to one another for warmth, but I slept. peacefully. and it was the freshest air I had breathed in weeks, and the plant beneath us smelled wonderful. We awoke to the sun rising and a rooster crowing nearby, and above all the satisfaction and ease of mind that we had just lived outside for a night. For me, it reassured me of the power of nature and its ability to always protect and comfort and provide for all its inhabitants. I feel a connection and a faith of knowing this all the time, but that night my beliefs were confirmed. I used to suspect, but I now know that the trees will keep me safe. If there is one thing I can say I believe in, it's that.
So we made our way back into the town, feeling victorious, found a bakery just opening and had coffee in the warmth, sitting on a comfy couch. After freshening up, we took a bus back to Moreton-in-Marsh and a train back to Oxford City, had breakfast in Oxford and explored the campus and the town a bit. We walked around a rose garden, watched the college lads set visitors off in their punting boats on the canal, and laid in a pile of leaves in the sun alongside the canal, reading and watching students, professors, and tourists walk by. Later we took megabus back to London, hurried back to my flat, showered and shoved food in our mouths as we ran out the door to see the broadway show we had booked with my other friend Hannah from the flat above! We saw Avenue Q, a show about people and puppets living in New York, and mostly a satire on life. Really funny.
whew. this is obscenely long, my apologies, but there is more. The next day, Tuesday I believe, Hannah left me to do some school work since I hadn't all weekend. At night, we went out with a group of friends to this INCREDIBLE blues bar in soho that Joe had heard about. oh my god. it was good. tiny old bar with lots of people, young and old, and we sat right in front of the band, a trio of gray-haired guys who could absolutely rock the blues. it was odd to have a first blues club experience in the uk and not in the states, but they were so good. the lead guy sang and played the harmonica and saxophone and it was so funky, and i was jamming. mmmmmmmmmmmm.
the next day hannah left, but first we had a delicious lunch at this indian restaurant near my flat. since then, i have been back to my normal life in london, but we had so much fun, so many adventures, and we've realized we are perfect travel companions for each other. When we were in Stow-on-the-Wold, just heading out of the pub to find our place to sleep, we saw these old rich ladies in a window, enjoying their food and drink at their proper hotel. We thought ahead to when we are those ladies and we will think back as we are sipping our wine, "remember when we slept out in that forest that one time?" "remember when we dove off that cliff into open water? or yeah remember that dragon?" it'll all be worth it when we're old ladies.
Since wednesday, I've just been taking it easy mostly, trying not to catch the flu that loads of people have here...
there was a bit of freshmen chaos in the flat this weekend involving our hallway wall being punched in and a drunk girl puking and sleeping on our kitchen counter. but no matter.
It's sunday night and i'm behind on reading, best be off.
Some photos from the canal near my flat, Moreton-in-Marsh, and Oxford here:
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/Adventures%20with%20Hannah/
xx
emily
that is the story, in short. here is the story in length, and glory..
the first day hannah was here, we got bread and cheese and fruit from the store and had a breakfast picnic in the rare sunshine in the park right across the canal from my residence hall. Then we walked along the canal. We meant to follow it until it connects with the river, but I unknowingly chose the opposite direction. And it was a beautiful walk, a path lower than the roads and the home of an interesting sub-culture of bicyclists, children playing, and houseboats. People living in houseboats the size of vans with gardens growing out of the roofs and bikes parked to the sides, all docked to the side of the canal. And there was a lady who had a coffee-boat, selling coffee and tea and sandwiches and pastries from inside her boat to people on the path along the canal. She was so cute! Eventually, we found ourselves in a neighborhood that I knew not of and so we wandered around a bit, later finding out it was the borough of Islington. We walked by a school and a playground with lots of little kids and into a central area of lots of coffee shops and bars and restaurants and cool people i think. We had planned to walk the canal towards the river and then cross the river to go to the Globe Theatre and maybe see a show if there were tickets available. But since we walked North instead, we decided to follow the original plan and take the tube across the river to the Globe. We looked lost, looking at our map for the nearest tube station in islington, and this man stopped and asked us if we needed help and then pointed us in the right direction. how strange and sweet. I often am surprised by how kind and warm people are here. I haven't been to New York yet, but I reckon people here may be a bit nicer from what I have heard. (ahaa i just realized i sometimes have a british voice stuck in my head almost and i start writing in the british character, like 'reckon' hahaha). I forget who told me but someone recently said that women pick up accents more than men, not sure why but i do agree.
anyway, we went to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, all cheap tickets were sold out. So I took Hannah to this pub nearby that has really good meat pies and classic British food and ale, etc. The only time I had been to it before was on a weeknight and it was very comfy and homey and warm inside. On this night, it was still all of those things, but also it was incredibly crowded inside and out with working people having drinks on a Friday evening after the work week. So much cheer, so many friends, men in suits with their beers, laughing and laughing. greatness. After dinner, we went back and my flatmate Joe was about to go out with some of our friends, so we joined them and went to the New Globe, the closest pub to campus, about a block away and full of good music and students from my school.
Saturday, we slept late and made breakfast in the flat, pancakes topped with a plum sauce from the plums Hannah picked and brought from Germany. Then we attempted to visit the Victoria and Albert Museum, but we got there too late and we couldn't find it. hah. so we went to hyde park instead since we were near it, and ate at this open-air cafe on the canal overlooking hyde park and complete with stone patio, old metal tables and chairs, seagulls and ducks and swans playing, and people enjoying each other's company, very euro it felt. After that, it was getting late, but we still hung onto the idea of possibly going to the theatre if we could get there in time and there were tickets available. It's amazing the way we would just chance things all the time and make something out of plans that didn't work out, so I trusted our luck on this one. By the time we found the National Theatre, across the river, it was nearing 7:30 which is showtime. We asked at the counter for Hamlet tickets, but that show had started at 7 already. So we asked at another counter for a different show. Sold out. Damn. We took a bathroom break, wiped out sweat from running to the theatre, and checked one more counter (there are multiple theatres at the National). We had to go outside and find the entrance to this one, and there was a man opening the door for us because it was about to start and he hurried us inside and said, pick up your tickets there! But we didn't have any, so I asked the guy at the counter if there were any left, and he said "sure, ten pounds each, and then just right up those stairs, show starts in 2 minutes" in the calmest voice I had heard all day. Wait, what? We got into a show? There were tickets left? We hurried up to find out seats, not even knowing what the show was about. And it turned out to be really good, modern theatre, a show about an elderly gay couple (played by some very eerie puppets and with the assistance of an all male cast with the exception of the narrator) and the memories they are dealing with at the end of their lives and the difficulties that come with writing a will. It was a beautiful piece, beautiful puppetry, and it made me think a lot. After the show, we walked along the river until we found a good-looking bar where we had some bread, wine, and dessert while discussing the piece we just saw.
The next day, the ADVENTURE began. The plan: go to Oxford University and the Cotswolds, probably camp out in the Cotswolds to avoid paying for a hostel. That last part sounded really exciting when Hannah first suggested it, and then the night before the trip I just kept thinking about it and becoming more and more scared. I love the wilderness and the wild and the trees and the grass and I like to camp, but in a strange place, an ancient stone village built in the 1100s that has only one road leading from it to other villages, and without a tent or anything? Whaatttt.
I tried to convince myself it would be fine, but decided we should just check in with the hostel to see if they have any rooms when we get there, just as a back-up. So we ventured into Central London Saturday morning, waited a very long time for our bus, which was late because there was a marathon in London and none of the coach buses could get into the city. We took the bus to Oxford University and then hopped on a train to the quaint Cotswold town of Moreton-in-Marsh. Then we walked 4 miles South to the village of Stow-on-the-Wold, as planned. Looking at Google Maps beforehand, this seemed like no problem. Four miles sounds like a lot, but Google said it would take an hour and a half. I've walked for an hour and a half many a time, easy. I didn't consider the fact that I would be carrying a light but bulky bag with quilt attached, or that the 4 miles would be traveled on the one main road connecting the cotswold villages, with no sidewalk or any sort of clearing for pedestrians alongside the fast-moving traffic. It was a bit challenging, and I did feel as if I might sprain an ankle at any given moment, or be hit by a car, but neither casualty occurred. In fact, none did. We walked through the vast countryside, sweating profusely, and smiling at the flowers and the hills and each time we almost tripped and each time a car beeped in encouragement and in salute of travelers. It did feel strong, I felt strong. What must people think of two women hiking this way? Surely, Alexander Supertramp was not the only brave soul. hah.
So we found Stow-on-the-Wold finally, and we were completely exhausted. We checked in at the hostel, and they had no rooms available. There were plenty of other hotels, but they would have been much more expensive, and besides, we were going to sleep outside with the animals. We ate and drank at a pub with all the local folks and a charming old bartender. It felt like we were in someone's living room, and I got a little homesick because it reminded me of warm meals at grandma and grandpa's house, and the thought of not sleeping in a warm bed disturbed me a little. We hadn't had a chance to find a spot before eating and now it was dark. But I had brought a flashlight, so we changed into our many layers of clothing at the pub, finished our drinks, and headed out to find our haven out in the unknown. We had noticed an area of land the went down and down a rolling hill from the street when we arrived in the village, so we went back to that. It was all grassy and sectioned off by a fence on either side. We couldn't see all the way down the hill, which was quite scary, but we could tell their was a farm property on one side of the fence. So we checked the other fence and found it to just enclose a small forest with a hill going up to meet the road on the other side. We squeezed under the barbed wire and found quiet in a bed of moss and leaves, protected by a canopy of trees overhead. It felt very safe, much safer than I could have imagined. We were enclosed by the fence on one side and the hill and road on the other. We could faintly hear cars if they were to pass by up on the street, which was comforting. And there were no large creatures, we had not trespassed on anyone's home. I squashed some stinging nettle with my shoe, we spread out our quilts, chatted, read to each other, drank wine, and fell asleep on the forest floor, with the sound of the leaves falling every so often. It did get cold in the night, and we had to keep switching sides, huddled up to one another for warmth, but I slept. peacefully. and it was the freshest air I had breathed in weeks, and the plant beneath us smelled wonderful. We awoke to the sun rising and a rooster crowing nearby, and above all the satisfaction and ease of mind that we had just lived outside for a night. For me, it reassured me of the power of nature and its ability to always protect and comfort and provide for all its inhabitants. I feel a connection and a faith of knowing this all the time, but that night my beliefs were confirmed. I used to suspect, but I now know that the trees will keep me safe. If there is one thing I can say I believe in, it's that.
So we made our way back into the town, feeling victorious, found a bakery just opening and had coffee in the warmth, sitting on a comfy couch. After freshening up, we took a bus back to Moreton-in-Marsh and a train back to Oxford City, had breakfast in Oxford and explored the campus and the town a bit. We walked around a rose garden, watched the college lads set visitors off in their punting boats on the canal, and laid in a pile of leaves in the sun alongside the canal, reading and watching students, professors, and tourists walk by. Later we took megabus back to London, hurried back to my flat, showered and shoved food in our mouths as we ran out the door to see the broadway show we had booked with my other friend Hannah from the flat above! We saw Avenue Q, a show about people and puppets living in New York, and mostly a satire on life. Really funny.
whew. this is obscenely long, my apologies, but there is more. The next day, Tuesday I believe, Hannah left me to do some school work since I hadn't all weekend. At night, we went out with a group of friends to this INCREDIBLE blues bar in soho that Joe had heard about. oh my god. it was good. tiny old bar with lots of people, young and old, and we sat right in front of the band, a trio of gray-haired guys who could absolutely rock the blues. it was odd to have a first blues club experience in the uk and not in the states, but they were so good. the lead guy sang and played the harmonica and saxophone and it was so funky, and i was jamming. mmmmmmmmmmmm.
the next day hannah left, but first we had a delicious lunch at this indian restaurant near my flat. since then, i have been back to my normal life in london, but we had so much fun, so many adventures, and we've realized we are perfect travel companions for each other. When we were in Stow-on-the-Wold, just heading out of the pub to find our place to sleep, we saw these old rich ladies in a window, enjoying their food and drink at their proper hotel. We thought ahead to when we are those ladies and we will think back as we are sipping our wine, "remember when we slept out in that forest that one time?" "remember when we dove off that cliff into open water? or yeah remember that dragon?" it'll all be worth it when we're old ladies.
Since wednesday, I've just been taking it easy mostly, trying not to catch the flu that loads of people have here...
there was a bit of freshmen chaos in the flat this weekend involving our hallway wall being punched in and a drunk girl puking and sleeping on our kitchen counter. but no matter.
It's sunday night and i'm behind on reading, best be off.
Some photos from the canal near my flat, Moreton-in-Marsh, and Oxford here:
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/Adventures%20with%20Hannah/
xx
emily
I forgot, a few more photos, from Wales.....
Click that link below or copy/paste it in browser to see a few others from my coastal walk with Molly. The video I posted before is pretty poor quality, but photos are a little better. X
http://s931.photobucket.com/albums/ad151/maple018/More%20from%20coastal%20path%20in%20Wales/
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Le Flâneur
[[In the words of Guys as quoted by Baudelaire, 'Anyone who is capable of being bored in a crowd is a blockhead..']]
[[The delight of the city-dweller is not so much love at first sight as love at last sight.]]
[[If the crowd is jammed up, it is not because it is being impeded by vehicular traffic-but because it is being blocked by other crowds. In a mass of this nature the art of strolling could not flourish.]]
the art of strolling, i am learning.
[[The crowd is not only the newest asylum of outlaws; it is also the latest narcotic for those abandoned. The flâneur is someone abandoned in the crowd. In this he shares the situation of the commodity.]]
[[Empathy is the nature of the intoxication to which the flâneur abandons himself in the crowd.]]
in the city, you can be whoever you want, you can be as strange as you please and you'll worry about nothing except the occasional smirk of another.
[[The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being himself and someone else as he sees fit. Like a roving soul in search of a body, he enters another person whenever he wishes. For him alone, all is open; if certain places seem closed to him, it is because in his view they are not worth inspecting.]]
some quotes from Walter Benjamin, on Baudelaire and his concept of Flânerie, the art of strolling, observing, for leisure, for pleasure, for understanding? for artistic expression? perhaps.
again, i speak of this drama class i am growing fond of. today we talked about this Flânerie and why it's important, but more what the problems are with it, and what we liked/disliked about janet cardiff's audio walk and how that relates to flanerie. Some girls at my table whined about getting lost on the audio walk and being scared and feeling unsafe and not understanding it and feeling that a flaneur is/was just a man who didn't contribute anything to society but just got pleasure out of watching strangers, objectifying women, and who didn't have many friends. And there was no changing their minds about any of this. I agree the flaneur that Baudelaire spoke of had that luxury because he was male, upper class and didn't need a proper day job, but I think the word takes on new meaning today, and I find the flaneur to be anyone and I find the flaneur to be an artist and a critic of the world. And I believe everyone should be a flaneur, for learning and for understanding their world a bit better.
[[And still they crowd by one another as though they had nothing in common, nothing to do with one another, and their only agreement is the tacit one, that each keep to his own side of the pavement, so as not to delay the opposing stream of the crowd, while it occurs to no man to honour another with so much as a glance.]]
my friend hannah is visiting tonight! she's studying in freiburg and will stay with me in london for a week. two of my flatmates went to manchester and liverpool for the weekend, so i've taken steven's mattress for hannah. how sweet of him. we will make do with my tiny room and hopefully the sky doesn't rain too much this weekend.
i'm also trying to make plans for other travel later in the semester. and of course the U.S. is paranoid about threats of terrorism and things like this are happening: http://www.counterfire.org/index.php/news/132-international/6793-strikes-protests-and-street-battles-in-action-against-euro-austerity
but i want to go even more now..
cheers,
xx
emily
[[The delight of the city-dweller is not so much love at first sight as love at last sight.]]
[[If the crowd is jammed up, it is not because it is being impeded by vehicular traffic-but because it is being blocked by other crowds. In a mass of this nature the art of strolling could not flourish.]]
the art of strolling, i am learning.
[[The crowd is not only the newest asylum of outlaws; it is also the latest narcotic for those abandoned. The flâneur is someone abandoned in the crowd. In this he shares the situation of the commodity.]]
[[Empathy is the nature of the intoxication to which the flâneur abandons himself in the crowd.]]
in the city, you can be whoever you want, you can be as strange as you please and you'll worry about nothing except the occasional smirk of another.
[[The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being himself and someone else as he sees fit. Like a roving soul in search of a body, he enters another person whenever he wishes. For him alone, all is open; if certain places seem closed to him, it is because in his view they are not worth inspecting.]]
some quotes from Walter Benjamin, on Baudelaire and his concept of Flânerie, the art of strolling, observing, for leisure, for pleasure, for understanding? for artistic expression? perhaps.
again, i speak of this drama class i am growing fond of. today we talked about this Flânerie and why it's important, but more what the problems are with it, and what we liked/disliked about janet cardiff's audio walk and how that relates to flanerie. Some girls at my table whined about getting lost on the audio walk and being scared and feeling unsafe and not understanding it and feeling that a flaneur is/was just a man who didn't contribute anything to society but just got pleasure out of watching strangers, objectifying women, and who didn't have many friends. And there was no changing their minds about any of this. I agree the flaneur that Baudelaire spoke of had that luxury because he was male, upper class and didn't need a proper day job, but I think the word takes on new meaning today, and I find the flaneur to be anyone and I find the flaneur to be an artist and a critic of the world. And I believe everyone should be a flaneur, for learning and for understanding their world a bit better.
[[And still they crowd by one another as though they had nothing in common, nothing to do with one another, and their only agreement is the tacit one, that each keep to his own side of the pavement, so as not to delay the opposing stream of the crowd, while it occurs to no man to honour another with so much as a glance.]]
my friend hannah is visiting tonight! she's studying in freiburg and will stay with me in london for a week. two of my flatmates went to manchester and liverpool for the weekend, so i've taken steven's mattress for hannah. how sweet of him. we will make do with my tiny room and hopefully the sky doesn't rain too much this weekend.
i'm also trying to make plans for other travel later in the semester. and of course the U.S. is paranoid about threats of terrorism and things like this are happening: http://www.counterfire.org/index.php/news/132-international/6793-strikes-protests-and-street-battles-in-action-against-euro-austerity
but i want to go even more now..
cheers,
xx
emily
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
here, people, underground, walking, seeing
so much is happening. so much learning is happening here.
i first must explain the people. there are soo many people in this city, all living and eating and working and sleeping and walking and shuffling and hurrying and breathing in the same exact spot. i don't understand it. i don't understand why people do this or how there is room for all these people in one place, but it's exciting. i can never get bored with the people passing by me, sitting across from me, sucked into their newspapers, plugged into their ipods, ipads, checking their blackberries, pushing their strollers, riding their cycles, hiding behind their sunglasses, sporting their suit jackets, ordering their lattes, smoking their cigarettes, waiting for their buses, checking their watches, counting their money, looking at no one, looking at everyone, everyone looking, everyone walking, nobody talking, walking to places with straight faces, following footsteps, averting gazes, listening to nothing, seeing only one thing, helpless and vulnerable, in transit, everyone, always.
as it is in any large city, though this is arguable the largest. i remember back a couple weeks ago to life in wales, life in pembrokeshire. a slowness, a content with reality, a patience. i remember the night of the ball when alex's sister came home from a week-long business trip and she and her husband were getting ready to dress up and go out. Alex muttered that they're "all running around like idiots." which i found funny and true at the time. after the shock of coming to the city the next day, i soon became accustomed to this idiotic running around, except it never stops. Nobody ever stops moving here, and because of that, the city is always moving, never still.
i find people here to be generally very kind, very forgiving and polite. British people are cute I would say, especially with their phrases and how proper they can be. Listening to them speak, I feel americans sound not only less educated, but vulgar even, though that is not usually true in the meaning of the language.
phrases i especially enjoy:
the pronunciation of pasta as "paa-sta" rather than "pah-sta"
use of words like "merry" to mean "drunk," "lovely" to mean "lovely," "jumper" to mean "sweater"
and the word "proper" to mean "very," as in "I'm proper tired, man." or "I'm proper hungry, let's get some food yeh."
They are very polite, which is sweet, and contradictory to their stern glares on the sidewalks and on the tube, and they keep quite to themselves (excessive hugging of friends and/or touching is not common) and they do not "grind" on the dance floor as kids do in america.
I'm learning to be a flaneur in my class, reading about Baudelaire and Poe's concepts of strolling and observing the city, noticing all its objects and people and the actions that take place and why. I've always done this act of strolling and seeing, but I've never found it so exciting or valued it as of such importance. Today, I went on an hour-long walk, guided by the voice of an artist, Janet Cardiff on a recording she made during the same walk in 1999. I wrote this in my class journal after the walk:
[[Janet Cardiff's 50-minute walk.
Whitechapel Art Gallery (formerly Library)
to Liverpool St. Station
Four hours after completing the walk, I am now remembering what it felt like. Cardiff's voice was very soft, whispery at times, but I heard it well and followed what she told me to do.
I was doubtful at first. How could it work that my walk would match up with the walk she took in 1999 just by me following her voice and the sound of her footsteps? I got confused and missed the first turn down an alley, but after that I caught up to her and it was incredible, seeing the things she saw and not seeing others. And it worked that she could direct me across the street and meet me on the other side. It was exciting to look up and see the lamppost she was referring to, and perhaps more exciting to see only one man sitting on the bench where she saw four men. I imagined the many groups of men that sat on that same bench from time to time each day.
The sounds on the audio. At times I got annoyed with them because they weren't the real sounds of the street today. They easily could have been, but they weren't, and I was missing out on the real sounds outside the headphones. I had false confusion or joy when I heard a siren or truck coming that wasn't there or the Indian live music that I wished was there.
How beautiful it was to get lost, to find a new passage to Brick Lane and see a part of the city I'd never discovered, in the trust of an audio guide.
I think Janet Cardiff has been the ultimate flaneur, (though I'm not sure I understand the meaning of the word completley yet), but I believe we are all flaneurs, we are required to be as inhabitants of the city. I can't speak for others, but I notice all of the same things that Cardiff pointed out on her walk. I make guesses as to who the man in the suit is and why he looks uncomfortable.
As a stroller of the city, one develops so many relationships with so many people in such a fleeting moment. Just on my walk to the art gallery to pick up the audio player, I found myself following an interesting-looking guy. I like the way he walked, very casually, and I began to follow him (not intentionally, but because I happened to go that way and we walked at a similar pace). Eventually I passed him, and he followed me for a bit. We never spoke or looked one another in the face, but we were both there together, walking the same path, listening to the same car horns and side conversations and babies crying, until we went our separate ways.
I participate in this strolling, observing daily in the city, but I never realized how crucial such flanerie is to developing an understanding of the world one lives in. Cardiff wanted us to explore a path of London through her eyes in order to teach us how to observe things for ourselves. Some people are better at it than others to begin with, and some need a bit of guidance on what to look for. But once the seed is planted, the seeing will not stop. Once someone told me to look at the sky, because their father always told them to look at the sky. And I have never ignored the sky since, because it is more beautiful than I ever thought it could be.]]
I fear my next posts may get even more rambly, thoughts are flowing, things are happening, I'm noticing, my sights are exploding before me. yey.
cheers,
xx
emily
i first must explain the people. there are soo many people in this city, all living and eating and working and sleeping and walking and shuffling and hurrying and breathing in the same exact spot. i don't understand it. i don't understand why people do this or how there is room for all these people in one place, but it's exciting. i can never get bored with the people passing by me, sitting across from me, sucked into their newspapers, plugged into their ipods, ipads, checking their blackberries, pushing their strollers, riding their cycles, hiding behind their sunglasses, sporting their suit jackets, ordering their lattes, smoking their cigarettes, waiting for their buses, checking their watches, counting their money, looking at no one, looking at everyone, everyone looking, everyone walking, nobody talking, walking to places with straight faces, following footsteps, averting gazes, listening to nothing, seeing only one thing, helpless and vulnerable, in transit, everyone, always.
as it is in any large city, though this is arguable the largest. i remember back a couple weeks ago to life in wales, life in pembrokeshire. a slowness, a content with reality, a patience. i remember the night of the ball when alex's sister came home from a week-long business trip and she and her husband were getting ready to dress up and go out. Alex muttered that they're "all running around like idiots." which i found funny and true at the time. after the shock of coming to the city the next day, i soon became accustomed to this idiotic running around, except it never stops. Nobody ever stops moving here, and because of that, the city is always moving, never still.
i find people here to be generally very kind, very forgiving and polite. British people are cute I would say, especially with their phrases and how proper they can be. Listening to them speak, I feel americans sound not only less educated, but vulgar even, though that is not usually true in the meaning of the language.
phrases i especially enjoy:
the pronunciation of pasta as "paa-sta" rather than "pah-sta"
use of words like "merry" to mean "drunk," "lovely" to mean "lovely," "jumper" to mean "sweater"
and the word "proper" to mean "very," as in "I'm proper tired, man." or "I'm proper hungry, let's get some food yeh."
They are very polite, which is sweet, and contradictory to their stern glares on the sidewalks and on the tube, and they keep quite to themselves (excessive hugging of friends and/or touching is not common) and they do not "grind" on the dance floor as kids do in america.
I'm learning to be a flaneur in my class, reading about Baudelaire and Poe's concepts of strolling and observing the city, noticing all its objects and people and the actions that take place and why. I've always done this act of strolling and seeing, but I've never found it so exciting or valued it as of such importance. Today, I went on an hour-long walk, guided by the voice of an artist, Janet Cardiff on a recording she made during the same walk in 1999. I wrote this in my class journal after the walk:
[[Janet Cardiff's 50-minute walk.
Whitechapel Art Gallery (formerly Library)
to Liverpool St. Station
Four hours after completing the walk, I am now remembering what it felt like. Cardiff's voice was very soft, whispery at times, but I heard it well and followed what she told me to do.
I was doubtful at first. How could it work that my walk would match up with the walk she took in 1999 just by me following her voice and the sound of her footsteps? I got confused and missed the first turn down an alley, but after that I caught up to her and it was incredible, seeing the things she saw and not seeing others. And it worked that she could direct me across the street and meet me on the other side. It was exciting to look up and see the lamppost she was referring to, and perhaps more exciting to see only one man sitting on the bench where she saw four men. I imagined the many groups of men that sat on that same bench from time to time each day.
The sounds on the audio. At times I got annoyed with them because they weren't the real sounds of the street today. They easily could have been, but they weren't, and I was missing out on the real sounds outside the headphones. I had false confusion or joy when I heard a siren or truck coming that wasn't there or the Indian live music that I wished was there.
How beautiful it was to get lost, to find a new passage to Brick Lane and see a part of the city I'd never discovered, in the trust of an audio guide.
I think Janet Cardiff has been the ultimate flaneur, (though I'm not sure I understand the meaning of the word completley yet), but I believe we are all flaneurs, we are required to be as inhabitants of the city. I can't speak for others, but I notice all of the same things that Cardiff pointed out on her walk. I make guesses as to who the man in the suit is and why he looks uncomfortable.
As a stroller of the city, one develops so many relationships with so many people in such a fleeting moment. Just on my walk to the art gallery to pick up the audio player, I found myself following an interesting-looking guy. I like the way he walked, very casually, and I began to follow him (not intentionally, but because I happened to go that way and we walked at a similar pace). Eventually I passed him, and he followed me for a bit. We never spoke or looked one another in the face, but we were both there together, walking the same path, listening to the same car horns and side conversations and babies crying, until we went our separate ways.
I participate in this strolling, observing daily in the city, but I never realized how crucial such flanerie is to developing an understanding of the world one lives in. Cardiff wanted us to explore a path of London through her eyes in order to teach us how to observe things for ourselves. Some people are better at it than others to begin with, and some need a bit of guidance on what to look for. But once the seed is planted, the seeing will not stop. Once someone told me to look at the sky, because their father always told them to look at the sky. And I have never ignored the sky since, because it is more beautiful than I ever thought it could be.]]
I fear my next posts may get even more rambly, thoughts are flowing, things are happening, I'm noticing, my sights are exploding before me. yey.
cheers,
xx
emily
Sunday, October 3, 2010
livin in the city
friends and lovers,
I have been in london now for two weeks, and it has gone by too fast already.
I spent the first week getting settled and figuring things out. I live on the university's campus in a student flat (similar to a dorm, but I have my own room and bathroom and share a kitchen with 8 flatmates, 3 of which are american, 1 chinese, and the others british freshmen). the campus is self-contained, which is nice i guess, it's very safe and has way too much CCTV surveillance. there's a canal that runs along the side of the campus and people often eat outside or sit by the canal or in the park to read.
in order to enter any campus building whose door is not already open, one must scan student ID card.
in order to exit any campus building, one must press a button (which can be a variety of shapes and colors and locations) and push hard to toggle the door open (many times one push will not suffice).
hence, it is easy to get locked inside a building here. the first day i tried exiting my flat building, i stood pressing the button and pushing the door for 5 minutes before giving up, walking out an open back door into an alley and walking around the outside of the entire building. my flatmate steven and I also got locked in the laundry room and had to have someone walking by let us out, because we couldn't find the button. i find all this odd.
the campus is on the East End of London, known historically as a place where slums existed, where hundreds of immigrant groups have gathered and shifted, and a place of huge ethnic diversity. Currently, the area is occupied by a vast amount of Indian and Bangladeshi people, and a large islamic population as well. i have never been in a place where so many people from so many different places all live in close proximity, it is truly amazing.
I've also heard of the East End's growing art scene, and I'm slowly discovering it within the winding streets, the markets and the shops.
I started my classes this past week and I'm pretty excited for all of them. I'm taking two English courses, one on British lit from 8th to 16th century, the other on 18th century writers in London and how London has changed over time and through writing. I'm also taking an intro-level linguistics class about how world languages connect and a drama course on how public art/activism can be performance, and why they are important, especially in the context of the city and london.
i might also try and join a club or student group just for fun and to meet other british folks. i went to the film society's first screening, woody allen's Shadows and Fog, which was excellent.
As far as the sightseeing, I'm not too keen on doing all the touristy things, but I have been seeing a lot of theatre already, and I am impressed. Last week I saw Mousetrap, based on Agatha Christie's novel, and the longest running show in the world, on its 58th year i believe. I've also seen two shows at Shakespeare's Globe theatre now, standing before the stage as the groundlings did in Shakespeare's day. I saw Part II of Henry IV and a modern show called Bedlam, the first Globe production by a female playwright. Both fantastic, and worth standing in the rain for a few hours.
I can't think of what else I have done in the past two weeks, other than walk around the neighborhood, chat with flatmates, and enjoy myself at pubs with friends.
i will post again soon, as i have more to say, but i'm off to read beowulf for now!
cheers,
xx
emily
I have been in london now for two weeks, and it has gone by too fast already.
I spent the first week getting settled and figuring things out. I live on the university's campus in a student flat (similar to a dorm, but I have my own room and bathroom and share a kitchen with 8 flatmates, 3 of which are american, 1 chinese, and the others british freshmen). the campus is self-contained, which is nice i guess, it's very safe and has way too much CCTV surveillance. there's a canal that runs along the side of the campus and people often eat outside or sit by the canal or in the park to read.
in order to enter any campus building whose door is not already open, one must scan student ID card.
in order to exit any campus building, one must press a button (which can be a variety of shapes and colors and locations) and push hard to toggle the door open (many times one push will not suffice).
hence, it is easy to get locked inside a building here. the first day i tried exiting my flat building, i stood pressing the button and pushing the door for 5 minutes before giving up, walking out an open back door into an alley and walking around the outside of the entire building. my flatmate steven and I also got locked in the laundry room and had to have someone walking by let us out, because we couldn't find the button. i find all this odd.
the campus is on the East End of London, known historically as a place where slums existed, where hundreds of immigrant groups have gathered and shifted, and a place of huge ethnic diversity. Currently, the area is occupied by a vast amount of Indian and Bangladeshi people, and a large islamic population as well. i have never been in a place where so many people from so many different places all live in close proximity, it is truly amazing.
I've also heard of the East End's growing art scene, and I'm slowly discovering it within the winding streets, the markets and the shops.
I started my classes this past week and I'm pretty excited for all of them. I'm taking two English courses, one on British lit from 8th to 16th century, the other on 18th century writers in London and how London has changed over time and through writing. I'm also taking an intro-level linguistics class about how world languages connect and a drama course on how public art/activism can be performance, and why they are important, especially in the context of the city and london.
i might also try and join a club or student group just for fun and to meet other british folks. i went to the film society's first screening, woody allen's Shadows and Fog, which was excellent.
As far as the sightseeing, I'm not too keen on doing all the touristy things, but I have been seeing a lot of theatre already, and I am impressed. Last week I saw Mousetrap, based on Agatha Christie's novel, and the longest running show in the world, on its 58th year i believe. I've also seen two shows at Shakespeare's Globe theatre now, standing before the stage as the groundlings did in Shakespeare's day. I saw Part II of Henry IV and a modern show called Bedlam, the first Globe production by a female playwright. Both fantastic, and worth standing in the rain for a few hours.
I can't think of what else I have done in the past two weeks, other than walk around the neighborhood, chat with flatmates, and enjoy myself at pubs with friends.
i will post again soon, as i have more to say, but i'm off to read beowulf for now!
cheers,
xx
emily
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
entering the commotion
friends and lovers,
hi. i have many things to say again. hope you are all well!
I am in london now, but I'd like to recap my last day and night in Wales before London...
I slept longer than I wanted, accidentally. Battery powered alarm clocks are not the most reliable. After breakfast, Jan showed me how to make jam out of the crabapples I had picked the day before. Then I watered everything inside the little greenhouse in the yard and picked edamame beans from the tall stalks. It was very pleasant to search all through the green plants to find the largest beans to pick, which were usually hidden among leaves and branches in places I almost didn't look. It sounds cheesy, but I've come to really enjoy touching raw vegetables, feeling their dirty textures, fresh from the ground, and then to wash and cut and cook them. It's quite inspiring, and I wish I could feel this feeling more, but it's hard living in a city..
Later in the day, I helped Alex make apple cider with the huge variety of apples picked from the trees. It was a difficult and messy process. I washed the apples and cut them into quarters and gave them to Alex to put in a small food processor to chop them into bits. Then he put the apple mush into this barrel press. We would just keep that going until the barrel was full of mush and then he screwed in the piece to press it all down as far as it could go to squeeze out all the juice, which came seeping out the bottom and into a big glass bottle. We had to do all that a few times to fill up the entire jug, and it took a long time, but it was pretty fun. The juice would be mixed with sugar and let sit for like six months to become cider. We laughed about the hundreds of apples lying around and the 6 other glass jugs he still had yet to fill. But that was for another day he said.
After cider making, I took Molly for the daily walk, and walked further on the coastal path in the opposite direction to see what I might find. The path went up and down, and Molly got tired with the hills, panting along behind. Eventually, we came to some houses, just a couple, people's properties, but there were gates and the path continued on through their yards. There was a stable with nobody inside, beautiful gardens and a white stucco house with a huge chimney and cool modern patio. I could see Dale, the town with the marina across the bay, and I wanted to continue on the path, but I felt it was too far, so I turned around and we went back. Then I took Molly a few steps the other direction on the path and I picked rose hips (they're like berries) for Jan and Rob to make preserves, and brought them back to the house.
When I got back, Rob and Jan were all dressed up for the fundraiser ball and headed out with another couple. Alex and I got ready and drove down to Dale, got drinks at the pub that Rob and Jan used to run, and went on Jan's brother's yacht, which was parked on the dock. He and his girlfriend were very dressed up and drinking champagne in the boat, which was the fanciest boat I've ever seen, complete with a bunk room, 2 bathrooms, kitchen, and master bedroom. Rob and Jan and their friends came to meet us shortly. It was so funny that all the adults were wearing like fancy prom attire and Alex and I were in jeans and hoodies. Jan's brother again entertained me, this time going on and on with his statistics about the bottom of the bay and the water level and the tide. He was planning to keep his yacht parked at the dock to sleep in after the ball that night, but you're not supposed to do that because the tide goes down and the boat could sink and rub the bottom of the bay. But he took all these measurements and calculations and was telling us he was sure it would be fine for this night because of the time of month it was, and at worst the engine might touch the bottom and get a little smashed, but he hoped and thought not. Apparently he had a disaster with this a couple years ago and had to pay a fortune to repair the boat. We were laughing when his girlfriend said he's been talking about his calculations all day.
So after that, Alex and I left them to go get some take-away fish and chips and then head to Charlie's bar. Alex called Charlie before we arrived there to see how the night was going so far. Charlie's had recently started doing live shows and DJs on weekends and have since had more people show up than ever before. So tonight, there was a band playing, and like over a hundred people there, in a sort of small bar/club. Things had gotten out of control before we even got there. Some guy who had hit one of the bar tenders a few months ago and was banned came back that night and punched Charlie right in the nose over the bar! So Alex and I showed up to help out, the police were there questioning, tons of drunk kids outside making a raucous, band setting up, bar absolutely insane busy, Charlie with a nose bleed but in good spirits. So Alex took the bartender role, among three other bar tenders (Charlie, Stumpy, and a girl whose name I didn't catch) and I helped Stumpy's 12-year-old son Josh collect and wash glasses. He's 12 and isn't supposed to be working or behind a bar, but he works with his dad like once a week it seems and has got the job down. He was like telling me what to do and drinking smirnoff ice from his dad while on the job hahaa. and the place was crazy, especially once the band started and no one could hear themselves talk and there were so many people, everyone from young teens to adults in their 40's were there and having a great time. there were tables outside and always around 20-30 people in different groups outside, drinking, smoking, trashing, yelling, dancing. and me running around collecting their empty glasses. i had a good time and it was fun to close up and make jokes about the two people making out at the end of the bar way after closing time, and josh drunk by the end and being really silly playing with the sink and squirting people with water. it was great fun, and a good last event in wales. i slept well that night and in the morning took a train to london after finding out charlie went to the hospital for his nose which was definitely broken and hadn't stopped bleeding all night. Jan was also in bad shape after taking a fall on the sidewalk in Dale after the ball and hitting her head pretty hard. Sadly, I didn't get to say goodbye to her because Rob left her to rest at their friends' house in Dale and came back to take me to the train station.
In all, I couldn't have had a better first wwoofing experience. They were lovely people, made me family, taught me so many things in such little time. I will miss the family, the town, the sea, and the dirt under my fingernails.
I think that is enough for now, it is night time here in London, and pouring rain outside. I'm going to do a bit of reading for class tomorrow. But I promise to catch up on my London adventures in the next couple of days.
cheers,
xx
emily
hi. i have many things to say again. hope you are all well!
I am in london now, but I'd like to recap my last day and night in Wales before London...
I slept longer than I wanted, accidentally. Battery powered alarm clocks are not the most reliable. After breakfast, Jan showed me how to make jam out of the crabapples I had picked the day before. Then I watered everything inside the little greenhouse in the yard and picked edamame beans from the tall stalks. It was very pleasant to search all through the green plants to find the largest beans to pick, which were usually hidden among leaves and branches in places I almost didn't look. It sounds cheesy, but I've come to really enjoy touching raw vegetables, feeling their dirty textures, fresh from the ground, and then to wash and cut and cook them. It's quite inspiring, and I wish I could feel this feeling more, but it's hard living in a city..
Later in the day, I helped Alex make apple cider with the huge variety of apples picked from the trees. It was a difficult and messy process. I washed the apples and cut them into quarters and gave them to Alex to put in a small food processor to chop them into bits. Then he put the apple mush into this barrel press. We would just keep that going until the barrel was full of mush and then he screwed in the piece to press it all down as far as it could go to squeeze out all the juice, which came seeping out the bottom and into a big glass bottle. We had to do all that a few times to fill up the entire jug, and it took a long time, but it was pretty fun. The juice would be mixed with sugar and let sit for like six months to become cider. We laughed about the hundreds of apples lying around and the 6 other glass jugs he still had yet to fill. But that was for another day he said.
After cider making, I took Molly for the daily walk, and walked further on the coastal path in the opposite direction to see what I might find. The path went up and down, and Molly got tired with the hills, panting along behind. Eventually, we came to some houses, just a couple, people's properties, but there were gates and the path continued on through their yards. There was a stable with nobody inside, beautiful gardens and a white stucco house with a huge chimney and cool modern patio. I could see Dale, the town with the marina across the bay, and I wanted to continue on the path, but I felt it was too far, so I turned around and we went back. Then I took Molly a few steps the other direction on the path and I picked rose hips (they're like berries) for Jan and Rob to make preserves, and brought them back to the house.
When I got back, Rob and Jan were all dressed up for the fundraiser ball and headed out with another couple. Alex and I got ready and drove down to Dale, got drinks at the pub that Rob and Jan used to run, and went on Jan's brother's yacht, which was parked on the dock. He and his girlfriend were very dressed up and drinking champagne in the boat, which was the fanciest boat I've ever seen, complete with a bunk room, 2 bathrooms, kitchen, and master bedroom. Rob and Jan and their friends came to meet us shortly. It was so funny that all the adults were wearing like fancy prom attire and Alex and I were in jeans and hoodies. Jan's brother again entertained me, this time going on and on with his statistics about the bottom of the bay and the water level and the tide. He was planning to keep his yacht parked at the dock to sleep in after the ball that night, but you're not supposed to do that because the tide goes down and the boat could sink and rub the bottom of the bay. But he took all these measurements and calculations and was telling us he was sure it would be fine for this night because of the time of month it was, and at worst the engine might touch the bottom and get a little smashed, but he hoped and thought not. Apparently he had a disaster with this a couple years ago and had to pay a fortune to repair the boat. We were laughing when his girlfriend said he's been talking about his calculations all day.
So after that, Alex and I left them to go get some take-away fish and chips and then head to Charlie's bar. Alex called Charlie before we arrived there to see how the night was going so far. Charlie's had recently started doing live shows and DJs on weekends and have since had more people show up than ever before. So tonight, there was a band playing, and like over a hundred people there, in a sort of small bar/club. Things had gotten out of control before we even got there. Some guy who had hit one of the bar tenders a few months ago and was banned came back that night and punched Charlie right in the nose over the bar! So Alex and I showed up to help out, the police were there questioning, tons of drunk kids outside making a raucous, band setting up, bar absolutely insane busy, Charlie with a nose bleed but in good spirits. So Alex took the bartender role, among three other bar tenders (Charlie, Stumpy, and a girl whose name I didn't catch) and I helped Stumpy's 12-year-old son Josh collect and wash glasses. He's 12 and isn't supposed to be working or behind a bar, but he works with his dad like once a week it seems and has got the job down. He was like telling me what to do and drinking smirnoff ice from his dad while on the job hahaa. and the place was crazy, especially once the band started and no one could hear themselves talk and there were so many people, everyone from young teens to adults in their 40's were there and having a great time. there were tables outside and always around 20-30 people in different groups outside, drinking, smoking, trashing, yelling, dancing. and me running around collecting their empty glasses. i had a good time and it was fun to close up and make jokes about the two people making out at the end of the bar way after closing time, and josh drunk by the end and being really silly playing with the sink and squirting people with water. it was great fun, and a good last event in wales. i slept well that night and in the morning took a train to london after finding out charlie went to the hospital for his nose which was definitely broken and hadn't stopped bleeding all night. Jan was also in bad shape after taking a fall on the sidewalk in Dale after the ball and hitting her head pretty hard. Sadly, I didn't get to say goodbye to her because Rob left her to rest at their friends' house in Dale and came back to take me to the train station.
In all, I couldn't have had a better first wwoofing experience. They were lovely people, made me family, taught me so many things in such little time. I will miss the family, the town, the sea, and the dirt under my fingernails.
I think that is enough for now, it is night time here in London, and pouring rain outside. I'm going to do a bit of reading for class tomorrow. But I promise to catch up on my London adventures in the next couple of days.
cheers,
xx
emily
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