Eadweard Muybridge @ Tate Britain

The Eadweard Muybridge exhibition (that one with the pretty tube adverts with galloping horses) is on now so go have a look see. For a sneak preview have a look at my review here.

yesterday

all my troubles seemed so far away.
Not, yesterday on leaving the building where I go dancing I felt a pair of eyes on me, and turned to find a man dressed head to toe in blue lycra standing there looking (at least I presume looking his face was covered too) at me. I was speechless.

sod off google

I do not want to make an account with you so i can access my blog.
I also really do not want to write an essay tonight.
I also dislike the fact i'm having to wear gloves whilst I type this because I don't know how to work the central heating in my new house yet.
I also dislike how part of me feels missing right now.

However in other news:

I do like the prospect of finishing the essay and actually unpacking properly.
I am excited at the propspect of planning my 21st birthday.
I am also excited at a variety of endeavours I plan to start soon.
I have not lost my faith in other people just yet.

So everything is fine, really.

un petit peu

North Vs. South

When I first ambled across the quaint leafy suburbs of north London only three months ago I was unimpressed. The surroundings that greeted me were a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the south, the sound of sirens replaced with bird song, the flashing lights replaced with the gentle glow of a dusky country scene.

After moving into my house on Highgate hill I found adapting to my environment difficult, so strange was it to look out of the window and be greeted with the sight of leafy greenery and not confronted with one of London's largest skyscrapers.

On leaving the house I was faced with the task of the hike to the tube station, up one steep incline and down another, a twenty minute trek which ensured arrival at the tube was both flustered and sweaty if you even thought about rushing. The bus service was awful and waiting in excess of ten minutes normal. The nearest supermarkets were a whole fifteen minute walk away in Crouch End and there was a choice of the non student budget friendly Waitrose or Budgens.




I was not happy. Where were the greasy spoons, the launderettes, the nail shops, and more importantly, where were the 24hr supermarkets and southern fried chicken shops?
Nowhere to be seen. The things that were in sight however did become clear in the end, and they included a beautiful borough with a sense of tranquility which is very much an alien concept to many native Londoners.

Walking into Crouch End on an autumunal afternoon, leaves crunchy, cold air crisp, is lovely. So is being greeted by elderly residents with a cheery smile, and your lovely neighbour Doreen chatting to you at length about her love for the V&A, and kindly agreeing to alter a dress you just found in one of the treasure trove charity shops in Crouch End. Also lovely was taking a leisurely walk amongst the greenery in some time out from the usual everyday chaos at Hampstead Heath, eating fish and chips on the village green in town and spending time with my housemates drinking hot chocolate.

Now I've moved back south east, to my original idea of London part of me does miss the north. One afternoon whilst walking through Elephant & Castle market I was even beginning to think that I'd prefer to be back there, amongst the beautiful scenery, until I turned the corner and witnessed the scene of a short, elderly chinese man feeding the pigeons some bread. He looked so happy despite the fact he wasn't in a park but on a concrete walkway, and the ducks were not ducks but winged vermin. He looked so happy and it really made me smile and remember that beauty is everywhere, not just in the picturesque.

let's take our precious time about it

Being one of those people who regularly crams as much as is possible into my day/week/month/year, it has occurred to me that moving to London may not have been the best of ideas. Don't get me wrong, I absoloutely love the place, always have done, and having lived here a year my infatuation has grown tenfold.

The only problem is, I am constantly tired. A simple tube journey into central renders me useless for the rest of the day, fatigued by the tasks when I arrive at my destination such as navigating around packed pavements and stressed shoppers. Although the tube makes travel easier I underestimate the energy that is required to deal with everyday commutes - rush hour especially - and often struggle to stay awake whilst sitting in the embryionic like carriage being rocked gently, encased underground. I've found an effective antidote is to take the bus whenever possible, that extra vitamin d has never been so good!


Another problem is that I now have no time to do things leisurely. Even when I do not have an engagement to get to I have found myself rushing about like a maniac, on auto 'Londoner' pilot. In the same way people crush together at the front of the tube lift out of habit despite there only being 5 people present, I rush from pillar to post trying to do everything as fast as possible so I can get home and do whatever my latest to do list comprises of.

After running myself ragged to the point of exhaustion I have decided that this urgency is no longer necessary, generally and also when I am late. Sure I don't like to be late, but being on time by nearly inducing a heart attack is not the answer. From now on I'm going to take my Grandma's lead and take my precious time about things...for a while maybe.

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

My latest book review on Haruki Murakami's wonderful memoir.

I adored this book and at several points whilst reading it wanted to exclaim 'Yes! EXACTLY.' I am also envious that Murakami beat me to writing on the subject, because I had had for about a year now some sort of vague idea to write something about running, at some point.

...

"Of course, it was painful, and there were times when, emotionally, I just wanted to chuck it all. But pain seems to be a precondition for this type of sport. If pain weren't involved, who in the world would ever go to the trouble of taking part in sports like the triathlon or the marathon, which demand such an investment of time and energy? It's precisely because of the pain, precisely because we want to overcome that pain, that we can get the feeling, through this process, of really being alive - or at least a partial sense of it."

Amen to that brother, the running shoes are being dug out of the wardrobe.