A Girl in the World

uk

Some walls are just too beautiful to photograph bare. Sometimes, you need subjects that can make a statement, subjects that can bring a wall to life.

This was taken in Hoxton Square Bar, a treasure of a place in one of London’s trendiest post codes.  Vaulted ceilings, dimmed cave-like lighting, industrial walls and floors.  It’s as if it were designed by a true artist: the cavernous room his canvas, and the bodies inside his paint.  Every shadow and angle can be a photograph. Dark corners, chiseled profiles, grainy shadows that inspire a girl to write.

A kiss was the only option here. Passion the only way to compete with Grande.

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After a dinner out with friends last Friday, we decided to walk home from West London all the way to London Bridge. It’s an hour long stroll along the riverbank and is probably my all-time favorite thing about this city; the walking.

London is the only place that I’ve lived where you can wake up on a Saturday morning, walk to breakfast, walk to the park, walk to coffee, walk to the museum, walk to dinner, walk to drinks and walk all the way home all in one day. If you’re blessed enough to have the opportunity to live in the center, this weekend walk will encompass some of the most beautiful landmarks that the city has to offer: the Tate Modern, Saint Paul’s Cathedral, the Millennium Bridge, Tower Bridge, Big Ben etc.

This is what old Europe can offer that no North American city (barring NYC) can: a walking culture amidst small cafés, hidden green spaces and old buildings. Every day is a history lesson.

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A friend once told me that you can live a thousand lives in London and still not discover every nook and cranny of the place. Sure enough, I was reminded of this a few days ago after a work meeting when we wandered into Shoreditch, a too-cool-for-me neighborhood in East London.

There’s a new, industrial, hole-in-the-wall ad agency around every corner, and boutique shops and coffee houses with patrons that look like they’ve come straight out of Rolling Stone magazine. One minute you see a punk-rock ballerina with blonde hair, pink tank and polka-dot tutu saunter across the street and the next minute a mirror image of Lucille Ball from I Love Lucy walks outside to have a smoke, curlers still in her hair.  And every single time I land in this borough I can’t help but feel like I don’t quite belong.  Actually, I feel like a fish out of water.  But that’s what London is.  A city full of surprises.

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London, Hyde Park

Septembers were my favourite. The walk home from work took an hour and required a diagonal cut through Hyde Park. Belgravia to Notting Hill.

Autumn had never felt more grande than during that evening as I looked down the long lane of tall maples that hugged Park Lane. The crispy crunch of red orange leaves and a warm cool breeze had me bursting with joy. I purposely left work at work; no laptop, no bags, flat shoes and a light coat. Nothing to weigh me down on this most precious of evenings.

After several minutes of walking, the park’s vast open spaces swallowed the traffic of the city streets.  The silence surprised me.  But for the chirp of a bird or laughter between lovers, I had no idea it was possible in a metropolis so big. Vast blue skies were possible too. Not a building could be seen on the horizon by the time I reached the Serpentine and suddenly the day’s worth of meetings, deadlines, phone calls and emails vanished.

On this particular evening, I strolled more slowly than usual, admiring the hummed chirp of summer insects as they readied for the night.  On the grass friends gathered in their loosened ties and unbuttoned coats, joy washing over their faces as they sat with Tesco wine, paper cups and plastic wrapped cheese. Mist hovered softly over the grass, kissing their scattered shoes in the dying light of an Indian summer eve. I smiled for them, amused by the simplicity of their make-shift picnic out. A pang of loneliness came over me.

I wondered what it was that they laughed about as a peered at them from my bench. They’re bitching about work, I thought to myself. The usual chit chat after a long week. The nothing details in conversation that we are compelled to share with people we trust, nurturing intimacy as we open up about our naked, unglamorous lives.

I had left everything and everyone I knew behind to pursue a new life in a new land. I had opportunities to pursue, new places to see, new limits to test. It had been my decision to come here, my decision to start fresh. But in that moment, I longed to join them in their reverie, to be invited into something bigger than my hermit crab shell built for one.

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This is an excerpt from a creative-writing piece about my life in London from 2005 to 2009.  The finished product is coming along very slowly.  I’m posting drafts for practice and feedback; my slow-cook approach towards publishing.

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When things get tough…

November 21, 2010

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Home

November 21, 2010

This was home for us over the last 10 days. It seems we’ve been making nests all over the map these last two years, and all of them equally comfy. Home is where your heart is.

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Date Night in SOHO

November 20, 2010

Espresso martinis, veggie burgers, caviar and champagne, in leather diner booths and gold trim tables. The strangest shi-shi, somewhat-Russian, tacky turn, over-priced dining experience ever. Well worth the shock and confusion factor on a cold Friday night.

PS: His baby pink pastel sweater matched perfectly with the pink placemats, pink waiter outfits, pink menus. And then there were the turquoise green leather seats…

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Beautiful Bermondsey

November 19, 2010

We’ve been living in East London this past week and wow, do I love it here. Compared with the congested tourist hubs of the West End (Notting Hill, Kensington, SOHO), this place feels like a gem. There are small green squares and playgrounds. Corner pubs and flower shops. Restaurants and coffee houses in converted brick factory buildings. And a sense of slow and quiet that teases at you as you walk the cobblestone streets, a quietness that’s just enough to let you feel like you’ve been transported to another world.

This city has the power to eat you up and swallow you alive. After traipsing through the buzzing pedestrian streets and rathole networks of underground tube lines, it’s nice to find a place to run away to and breathe.

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London at Night

October 15, 2008

Is it possible to fall in love with a city?  

With its

people

experiences

foods

corners

parks

skies

chaos

unexpected moments of bliss

little moments

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2008/08/london_from_above_at_night.html

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Date night

October 2, 2008

So last night, I went on a date. I think. See, this is my problem. I don’t date. I’m bad at it. I was in a relationship for SEVEN years with my high school sweet heart so we missed out on all the normal social development that happens to young adults when they are trying to look for a potential mate. We thought we had that part of life all pinned down. But sometimes, life doesn’t always turn out as you schedule and now I’m single. And being (happily and healthily) single means that every once in a while, you go out with someone of the opposite gender to have drinks and dinner and a chat. It’s like a job interview, but you don’t bring your resume.

Well, this maybe-date of mine last night was great. He came from work (so did I). He’s a banker and this fact in itself was cause for stress for me already. It felt cruel to greet him and ask “Sooo, how’s work?”, knowing full well that the economy is about to implode on itself at any second now (FYI: we managed that exchange OK – his bank is solid and no one is getting laid off, thank goodness!). Anyway, as I was saying…he’s a banker and a banker in London dresses like a proper adult: in a black pin-striped suit, in black shoes, and an ironed white shirt. Until last weekend, when Cynthia asked for it, I didn’t even know I owned an iron! I think the mere fact that he was dressed like a real adult scored him points even before we sat down to eat! And here’s the fun (ironic, serendipitous) part. He’s from Argentina. We ordered Argentinian wine. And what did we talk about? My trip to Argentina! How easy that our maybe-date was already themed for us!

We went to the Troubador – this gorgeous old pub/restaurant/brunch place that I had been to before but on a Sunday morning. Last night it was candlelit and bohemian. We had wine and a platter to share. And we talked about travel – adventure travel! The crazy kind where you buy a one-way ticket into one airport and then wing the rest! The kind where you wander a city, a country, a continent, with no real agenda. We talked about taking off for three months just because. We talked about Argentine tango and Brazilian carnival and house music in Berlin and food in Bangkok. We planned trips to Mozambique and Morocco and the Amalfi coast. And we’re going to hit Asia – renting huts on the beach and getting massages and eating fabulous feasts of tropical food for $20 a day. Two hours of travel dreaming, pretending and planning. And it was great fun!

The thing about having a date night in London is that it’s always bound to be a surprise. This place is the most hyper stimulating environment I’ve ever been in. It’s like an extended stay in the craziest souk in the world. There are just so many different types of people here, from every nook and cranny of the planet. If you’ve got an accent fetish, this is the place to be. Londoners are hybrids – in between countries, loves, destinations and they always have an interesting story to share. There isn’t a day that goes by where I am not fascinated by something different – whether it’s a new expression that I hear or a great new restaurant that I visit. There is always something to discover here.

I don’t know what will come of this maybe-date. And I call it a maybe-date because it was never meant as an outward invitation to go and do something romantic. We met through friends and just wanted to catch up. And doesn’t that make more sense? Let’s set some time, catch up, hang out, have something to eat and then maybe do it again if it’s fun. Really, maybe-dates are the way to go! You can’t ever think of these things as “date” dates (except when you gossip about it after with your girlfriend because it’s more fun to add intrigue to everything when you’re gossiping with your girlfriend). Instead, you just keep open about meeting a new friend, an interesting person, someone different to learn from. The most beautifully surprising part of it all is that each time I go on an a maybe-date, I am always struck by how genuinely decent and great people are. There are some great human beings out there and some of them can even be MEN! Who knew?! ;)

Needless to say, I do think that at the very least, he will be a great friend. Maybe he can even teach me some Spanish!

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