It is funny how I cannot think any more. The creative ideas do not flow so easily. I'm rarely annoyed and frustrated with as many people as when I started this blog/ gallery, so it is possible that there is a correlation.
The strands in life continue to tie together. This evening, I spent the most wonderful time with Claire and Rupert in Whitechapel. Superb food, wine, enjoying intellectual equality. Most importantly, I spoke to my week-gone soulmate. Rachel is now in Kenya, and I realised today how terribly I miss her. Of course, I shall see her in 4 weeks, but it served to remind me how perfectly the distractions in my life have tallied with her going.
On that note, sitting on the tube from Whitechapel to Baker Street, I sat watching a train full of the usual 11pm microcosm. There were friends after a night out chatting excitedly, there were children asleep in their mothers' arms after having been tired out, there were East End Wideboys wearing shirts unbuttoned to their midriff and sharing crude stories over a tinnie, there were couples who were in the midst of foreplay, and there were couples who were intellectually unmatched - one clearly trying to work out whether there was anything to do to improve the situation. In the midst of it all I spotted a man. In that man I spotted God. The man was a mix between David Tennant and Robert Redford - pinstripe but craggy and worn - that is not the important part. He was standing, serenely watching people in the carriage - each person in turn - enjoying all they were doing and saying; occasionally he smiled, looked up, smiled again, and looked somewhere else. A creator enjoying his creation - thinking of amusing changes, just thriving on the beauty of what other people are enjoying.
It struck me, that for all the parts of others I hate and there are many things that I would class as despicable characteristics, there is so much beauty in individuality of reaction and being. That man, who was God, just for a moment showed it all. His enjoyment of everthing going on reminded me that I don't need to be creative all the time - creativity has to be enjoyed to understand it more. I will be upset with people soon enough and will write well thought out essays on humanity as a result. At this moment, I realise that my creativity is individual, but it is nothing without the experience of others - just like Mr God on the train noticed at the same time!
Now. Don't get me started on the Tube rant.....
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Isn't it funny how...
Bees like honey?
I like life at the moment. In a more secluded moment of creative genius I spotted some similarities between life and the game 'Connect Four'. Isn't it odd how occasionally you feel that bits of life begin to fall into place? It is just like Connect Four when your opponent seems to be failing his go desperately - grasping at threads to stop you getting a line. Of course, it is more complicated than that: I remember, as we all do, as a child discovering that if you held a mirror to a mirror, that the mirrors would appear to reflect themselves into infinity - it is the same with the games of Connect Four - infinite.
Of course, it is the past while where the game seems to have destroyed my opponents (one might say personal gremlins, since opponents in people are merely challenges), but there are lots more existing; my dimension at the moment is in a winning phase. I feel I have moved to an area of London that is great, to a beautiful, light and spacious flat, and I feel it happened a bit by accident. I have met some fascinating new people - some particularly. I have been out for a drink today with a very good friend, who for various reasons things did not work out with for a year or so, but now I remember how addictive his friendship is. AND I have just discovered the evenings in West Hampstead.
Isn't it funny how Bees like Honey? (TM A.A Milne!!)
Isn't it funny how Children like Chocolate?
Isn't it funny how Adults like Alcohol.
Tonight I went for a drink with LJ in West Hampstead. We met up spontaneously at about 9 p.m. and went to a bar just opposite the Opera Studio. It reminded me, down to the tables and clientele, of a down-to-earth bar in a little Czecholslovakian town - there was little attitude and just a good relaxed evening being had by all. Following this, the image continued - all the way up West End Road, little lanterns flickered in civilised bars like candles in caves of experience. I was informed of the good places to go for breakfast, the good places to go for dinner, and all of them looked fabulous and civilised for a drink. AND all of them looked 100% less pretentious than the rest of London bars - willing me in - vive la culture cafe. All of my new found bars are closer to home than the best bar in Walthamstow which, although very good, is not where I live now!
I'm looking forward to the next month. And I've suddenly realised how many people I know who live in this area.
Bring it on!
JL
I like life at the moment. In a more secluded moment of creative genius I spotted some similarities between life and the game 'Connect Four'. Isn't it odd how occasionally you feel that bits of life begin to fall into place? It is just like Connect Four when your opponent seems to be failing his go desperately - grasping at threads to stop you getting a line. Of course, it is more complicated than that: I remember, as we all do, as a child discovering that if you held a mirror to a mirror, that the mirrors would appear to reflect themselves into infinity - it is the same with the games of Connect Four - infinite.
Of course, it is the past while where the game seems to have destroyed my opponents (one might say personal gremlins, since opponents in people are merely challenges), but there are lots more existing; my dimension at the moment is in a winning phase. I feel I have moved to an area of London that is great, to a beautiful, light and spacious flat, and I feel it happened a bit by accident. I have met some fascinating new people - some particularly. I have been out for a drink today with a very good friend, who for various reasons things did not work out with for a year or so, but now I remember how addictive his friendship is. AND I have just discovered the evenings in West Hampstead.
Isn't it funny how Bees like Honey? (TM A.A Milne!!)
Isn't it funny how Children like Chocolate?
Isn't it funny how Adults like Alcohol.
Tonight I went for a drink with LJ in West Hampstead. We met up spontaneously at about 9 p.m. and went to a bar just opposite the Opera Studio. It reminded me, down to the tables and clientele, of a down-to-earth bar in a little Czecholslovakian town - there was little attitude and just a good relaxed evening being had by all. Following this, the image continued - all the way up West End Road, little lanterns flickered in civilised bars like candles in caves of experience. I was informed of the good places to go for breakfast, the good places to go for dinner, and all of them looked fabulous and civilised for a drink. AND all of them looked 100% less pretentious than the rest of London bars - willing me in - vive la culture cafe. All of my new found bars are closer to home than the best bar in Walthamstow which, although very good, is not where I live now!
I'm looking forward to the next month. And I've suddenly realised how many people I know who live in this area.
Bring it on!
JL
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