london fog
I am beginning to wonder where my desire to be in London has gone and if I am just over ‘it’ aka London or if I am just over being unemployed racking up debt and remaining in limbo… yeah seems pretty obvious doesn’t it? The famous Samuel Johnson quote also comes to mind “when you are tired of London you are tired of life” is this true, am I tired of life? or is that I am just lonely, broke and need to feel needed and lets face it London doesn’t particularly need me.
After an unforgettable week with my dad and sisters traveling around England I am back in London, back trying to find work and looking for a place to lay my head for at least the next three weeks, I will then have a room just off Brick Lane (home of the curry house, at least four on every block) for 300pounds a month, its small but it will do… I won’t be using it much when I start working 18hr days in the film industry (such a funny thing to wish for no?) So a place to sleep and store my stuff is mostly what I am looking for, it is also with one of my new friends, a girl funnily enough from Victoria… one day you may see our clothing line on Fashion File, keep an eye out for us!
photo’s of the wedding and the trip will be up and linked too via ‘photo’s’ on the right… happy looking! xox
where do I start, where do I end… is it the beginning of the end or just the beginning?
i’m not quite sure where to start…
with the awesome last part of Berlin, with coming back to London and beginning work experience, with the passing of the best friend a girl could ask for…
or do I just speak of the general confusion of existence and my place in it?
ich bin ein berliner
Only in Berlin can you get taken
((by a recent stranger, until he helped us find our way on the under construction so non existent M1 tram come bus, only later to run into him randomly on the street /now friend Sebastian. He is a successful sax player who makes a living with his music, is in 4 bands, has a masters in music, writes music… pretty darn talented I think! –though I have yet to verify first hand with actual listening to him play))
to a jazz show that turns out to be one of the most unique experiences I have ever had… or right up there… at least top 10, maybe top 5! I can’t say I enjoyed the show but I certainly enjoyed the experience if only because of that reason.
We entered an old grey disintegrating building, located on our street actually behind a totally happening little café, through a dark door that should have gone nowhere… it was dark and dank, the concrete literally peeling off the walls with random graffiti saying nothing at all as if to warn of the nothingness at the bottom. As you descend into the darkness, the air grew thick and heavy, the damp creeping into your lungs your breath growing more reluctant with each mouthful of air. Down about three flights we were greeted by a friendly face expecting money to exchange hands, our new friend gave a password and we got in with 5euros less in our pockets and a huge stamp, each different and equally aquatic, imprinted on our forearms.
We entered the dimly lit, incredibly smoky bunker and found seats recently deserted by the musicians about to perform. To the right of us there was a bar that served mainly beer, vodka and gin out of a cooler; the set up impressively dodgy and not particularly cheap. I had a gin and tonic with lemon.
To the left there was a cement wall with the vague sounds of a ping-pong game in the background.
Then the music started. It was completely and utterly the most random jazz I have ever heard. The men were in their 40’s & 50’s -a drum, double bass, guitar and sax. It was so arbitrary and bizarre… The musicians were in a trance like state responding to each other with the seemingly sole intention of making noise… Sebastian and I chatted about the quality of music and the musicians choices at certain points to the conclusion that there wasn’t much quality or point though possibly there was more to it… and who are we to judge their experience playing -maybe that was the most important part of the performance, not our experience but the musicians… maybe not. The self indulgent sounds lasted longer than necessary and we were ready to leave by midnight and wander the block and a half home…
ahhhh Berlin, what Toronto aspires to be… only the hipper than hip hang in Berlin.
On Tuesday I return to reality, to expensive, to dirty, to smelly, to exciting, to historical, to inspiring, to the centre of the universe (did I mention expensive?) London… to look for a job or a work-experience /internship (though preferably paid of course) type situation. At this point I am not above asking any and everyone I know if they have any contacts soooo please don’t be shy, don’t hesitate, don’t question your or my motives just pass it along, bring it on down, make me owe you!!! any and everything helps…
be still my aching heart
I am not sure why when traveling love or romance has to be so fleeting and momentary.
I feel as though my heart is from a different era, I am like a heroine in a romantic novel that falls fast and hard and clings to romance desperatly like a drug.
so bad at this
as you can tell I am incredibly bad at keeping up with my adventures…
I will try and get better but no promises…
instead I offer you pictures of the past few weeks… so please enjoy and like I said I will try to write soon!
The link is on the side under photo’s!
xox