Mercy, Day 109

I'm reading such an excellent book right now- Mercy by Jodi Picoult. I love books that make you just want to sit down and read all day (who doesn't?) and this one is definitely does just that.

Set in a small town in Massachusetts, the novel follows a select few people whose lives all change the day a man comes into their town with his dead wife, confessing to smothering her with a pillow. It is quickly determined that she was terminally ill with cancer, the pain excruciating. The novel explores this overall question: if someone you loved asked you to kill them because they were in so much pain, would you? What draws me into this novel is the way that the theme of love is explored, and the way the members of the town begin to question their own relationships as the novel unfolds.

It is such an emotional and powerful read. I highly recommend it!

xx

Day 108

Finally, finally I have a job nannying three times a week! I’m pretty excited. It’s relatively easy work and it feels good to have some sort of an income.

I take my drivers theory test on Monday. I hate tests and I get myself all worked up before hand. I think it’s not being in control of the situation that scares me, the unknown. Plus, it would be really unfortunate if I had to tell everyone “actually I don’t have my licence because I FAILED the theory test”. I'm going to be positive here and say that probably won't happen, but I'm scared nonetheless.

I have become slightly obsessed with reading travel guides. This may sound naïve, but before moving to London I had formed images and made assumptions about what the rest of the world was like based on photos I had seen, or something I had read. But actually living and being immersed in the culture of a place so different from Toronto has made it clear that glossy photos and descriptive words can only show us a portion of what the world has to offer. I think this is partly why I have such a desire to see the Eiffel Tower; I want to be able to look at a photo of it later and know exactly what it feels like, sounds like to stand in front of it. I am craving to see what the rest of the world has to offer-the colours of different countries, the smells and sounds. These past few months it has become clear to me that travelling after I finish university is something I must do. In the mean time, I have all my travel guides to keep me dreaming of all the fabulous places I will one day visit!

A Work in Progress, Day 105

I’m not sure where this is going, or if it will turn into anything at all.....

She wonders if he thinks of her still. Perhaps during the most insignificant moments? She remembers him the best in her dreams, they bring back the feeling of him only present now that she is so far away. Her dreams leave her with a feeling of comfort, they bring back the warmth that seeped out from the pockets of his skin- under his arms, between his thighs. She keeps a small list under the keyboard in her office cubicle, her messy hand recording all the insignificant moments she has loved him with all of her heart, simple seconds where his presence has silently pattered through her mind like a mouse scurrying through a still house. The memories come to her at unexpected moments-fragments which at the time were seemingly insignificant but that her mind took reason to tuck away nonetheless. She only remembers these moments in snapshots, they have no beginning middle or end. She wondered if memories sometimes spontaneously sprung into his mind uninvited, as well. Perhaps when he was buying a pineapple, or melting butter in the middle of a baked potato he remembered her how she used to be- cheeks luminous, smile toothy and pristine white. She wonders if he thinks of her still. She wonders if he thinks of her at all.

*

The sun sat above them, sending down its heat in waves, bathing the grain in a perfect golden hue. He watched her standing in the middle of the field, the sun catching her orange springy curls and creating a halo of fire around her head. Luminous. Her teeth were the colour of the clouds, skin as golden as the grain around her. He loved how the stripy white and red shirt clung to the curves of her body as she swayed in the field, arms outstretched, head cocked towards the sky. He moved his camera up towards his left eye wanting to catch her in this moment, unaware. He paused; it was in these moments that he found himself caught up in her beauty, when she was unconscious to everything around her. He was drawn to the fact that she was completely oblivious to her own beauty, how if she titled her head towards the sun her curls radiated all the colours autumn had to offer, how the way she breathed in perfect fluid motions revealed the peacefulness of her soul. She saw him staring at her with his camera perched just below eye level and her body automatically readjusted itself into a pose, her hand placing itself neatly on her hip, leg jutting out to the side. He had lost the moment, the simple breath of unmistakable natural beauty that he once thought only exotic flowers or the abnormal curl of a tree branch could offer him. He looked through the viewfinder, hand on the shutter button, pausing as he realized that no one would ever be able to give him any more than what she did just by standing in front of him. This was why every action he took was in favour of her, she was something he could not afford to lose. He choreographed his words to please her, restrained every muscle in his body so as not to pull her too forcefully towards him when she was walking by his side. He would and could never seem to let himself show her how much he loved her and this is what eventually drove them so far apart; how ironic it was that one could love another too much to express it.

Ava's Canadian Accent, Day 105

Ava is quite good at imitating accents. She has picked up on my Canadian one!

Photos, Day 100

I fell asleep last night replaying the images I had captured on my 35mm camera over and over again. I got them developed today, and it struck me just how much I have missed using film!

Here are some of the photos:

Yay for Sunny Days! Day 99

Today was kind of magical.

First of all, it was absolutely stunning outside. Maude and I took a long walk around Walthamstow and you could tell the warm weather was exciting her too-she ran the entire time. People literally stop in the street to smile or wave at her because she's just too cute. She looked up at me all confused when a young guy literally turned around to say hello to her as he passed us on the street ("Andra, why is he waving?").

Ava wore her "funky leggings" to Epping Forest today (she went on a "nature walk" with her friend and their family...how adorable is that?) The thing about Ava is that she really is just funky and can pull off any combo she comes up with (yesterday it was bright blue flowered leggings paired with a white and red flowered top and pink socks). It's "half term" here (like our March Break) but Ava has been waking up much to early in the mornings. Yesterday she hopped into my bed wayyy to early for my eyes to even think of opening, laid there for a minute and then asked, "why aren't you tickling my back?" I somehow found the energy to start rubbing her back, but couldn't seem to find the energy to actually speak. This prompted the question, "why aren't you saying anything?" (I get asked this question frequently in the mornings).

I'm getting off track- more about today. This morning I got so angry at myself when I walked passed the perfect picture without my camera on hand. There was a young girl standing at one of the fruit stalls on the high street. She was wearing a huge straw sun hat and sneakily eating a kiwi from the stall. There was something so striking about the whole scene, one of those rare moments where the imagery will stick with me for a while. Why don't I carry my camera with me everywhere? Who really knows. I've learnt my lesson though.

I met a friend for coffee today. I had casually glanced in the direction of the staircase near where we were sitting only to see a familiar face! Walking up the steps was a girl I went to high school with! Seeing her gave me the most bizarre feeling in the world. In a blog entry I wrote a while ago, I had wondered what it would be like to see a friend from Canada. Seeing a familiar face from Toronto today provoked exactly the mixture of feelings I thought it would. At first, this overwhelming feeling of relief rushed over me and, although we are really just acquaintances, I felt a sense of comfort. It was so strange, almost as if the bubble I have been living in had been popped. We both didn't know what to say at first until we both just blurted, "WHAT are you doing here??!!"

My decision to not wear a jacket out today proved to be a bit too optimistic (it got very cold when the sun went down-thank goodness for borrowed oversized woolly sweaters...and tea).

photography and pink cake, Day 96

I need start using my 35mm camera again, I realized that today. I miss the precise click sound of the shutter, not being able to wait to get the roll of film developed, the grain in the photos (my old photography teacher used to say he found grain in photos sexy...?). Stay tuned for some film shots coming soon!

I hope everyone had a day filled with lots of love! I (rather unfortunately) ate way to much pink heart shaped cake...

Cupcakes! Day 95

I’ve never liked Valentine's day simply because it is so commercial. I cringed passed card stores this whole week and swatted away the red balloons that seemed to be surrounding me wherever I went.

Despite my highly non-festive attitude I did feel like baking cupcakes today and a heart shaped cake for tomorrow. After discovering Lola’s Cupcakes, I’ve had a burst of culinary inspiration (and not to mention a new found obsession for cupcakes).


I’ve never been one for baking, or cooking for that matter. Things just always go wrong. And having a chef/baker like my sister around, I’ve never felt the need to whip anything up (isn’t that awful?). But next year when I begin to live on my own, my sister is not going to be nearby to make me some pancakes for breakfast and my mum isn't going to be whipping up some amazing dinner (nor will there be a Lola’s cupcake store anywhere near by…what am I going to do?). I’m just going to have to fend for myself…and make lots of cupcakes.

Day 90

Note to self: never go to any museums/galleries/anywhere that has the potential to be an educationally enriching experience on a Monday in London; these places just decide not to open on this particular day. Why Monday? Isn’t the day of rest on Sunday?

I was off to the poetry library this morning. It took me quite a while to get there as it’s located in South Bank (by far my favourite part of London, it always has been) but when I finally got there, it was closed! I was quite disappointed, only because I have heard that it is fantastic. I hopped back on the tube and made my way to Whitechapel Gallery to see Where Three Dreams Cross: 150 Years of Photography from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. Rather annoyingly, the gallery was also closed. Ah well, I guess my educationally enriching adventures will have to be saved for another time.

As the days go by, I feel more and more disconnected from Toronto. London is now very familiar to me and feels comfortable; unlike the first month of being here, I now feel as if I somewhat belong. I was thinking today on the tube how I forget what it feels like to be on the TTC; I have trouble remembering what the map looks like, the sound of the voice announcing the next stop, the sounds of the train as it arrives in the station. I know that isn’t really a big deal, but it makes me feel a little lost not to remember those small things that were once so familiar. I think one of the most exciting things about returning home will be becoming re-acquainted with the comforts of Toronto (and not to mention all those faces of the ones I love). I am sure that when those once-familiar places, faces, scents, sounds surround me, it will be like I never left.
In the midst of a list-making frenzy today, I wrote down the top things that I would like to have done/accomplished by the time I leave England:

-Go to Greece
-EIFFEL TOWER!
-Learn how to use my digital camera (take a course!)
-Driver’s licence
-Get one of my photos up on a wall somewhere!!!!!

They all seem somewhat accomplishable?

Day 86

After I finished my small book of writing/photos a couple weeks ago, I went to get it photocopied so I could distribute some in the library and coffee shop, but almost gasped at the price to copy in colour! After deciding that I didn't want to go the cheaper route and photocopy it in black and white, and after failing to figure out how to photocopy it on the printer at Samantha's, my little book of musings ended up being tucked away in my closet. However, I may be in luck. A friend has told me I could use his photocopier that enables him to print out hundreds of pages for virtually no money (it all sounds a bit vague, I know). So hopefully my book of musings will actually get the chance to live somewhere other than the top shelf of my closet soon enough.

As well as that writing course I'm going to take, I'm thinking of going to a course at a photography resource centre in London to learn how to use my digital camera. I've been taking photos with just a basic understanding of the camera's functions, all the while knowing it has so many more wondrous things to offer me. It will be exciting to finally learn what those things are!

I hope everyone is well! xx

Rambling On, Day 85

It seems to be impossible to get a job here. Impossible.

Though I'm not in DESPERATE need of a job, it would be nice to have some money to buy clothes. I know that sounds a bit obnoxious, but if you have ever gotten the chance to walk into Topshop on Oxford Street, you'll understand where I'm coming from.

I was talking to someone today about writers. When he asked me who my "role models" are, Sylvia Plath's name instantly left my mouth which took me by surprise. I've always gotten annoyed when people list off clichéd writers, and yet here I was, doing the exact same thing! I explained my reasoning (I'm not so crazy about what she writes about but I look up to the overall way she approaches her writing, the mood she creates) but was still annoyed at myself. Though I do look up to Sylvia Plath, she's definitely not at the top of my list but more towards the middle. Maybe we look for common and familiar ground instinctively, not just when talking about writers but all forms of culture; perhaps it's our way of avoiding a potentially awkward conversation. Or maybe, we feel we have to pull out these names because we actually don't want to admit we were inspired by the authors who write novels that have been dubbed "guilty pleasures"? I promised myself today never to list off a name just for the sake of it if ever asked that question again! As for my actual "role models"? I'd have to say they're always changing. When I was thirteen and fourteen, Sonya Sones and Sarah Dessen were definitely up there. Then in grade eleven I was introduced to Evelyn Lau and fell in love with her fearlessness when it comes to subject matter. In grade twelve we studied Michael Ondatje and although his writing confused me for a while, I suddenly couldn't stop reading his novels (there's something addictive about his style of writing). I think that all of the writer's above have inspired me in equally different ways.

I'm going to be starting an evening writing course soon. I'm pretty excited!

x

Dreaming, Day 84

I dream of your distant presence
my fingers frantically trying to reach the soft feel of your skin
through the meshed web of uneven truths
and the hexagonal combs of memories I have collected
and placed side by side
of those seemingly insignificant moments
which I now crave like the sticky scent of honey

we finally unite
where the brushfire meets the fairytale world
of children’s imaginations;
its over exaggerated colours and creatures greeting us with
benevolent reminders of our past mistakes

I catch your tears like raindrops
on my tongue
and together we wipe the erratic colour from the world around us
until our mistakes are replaced with an empty whiteboard
ready to receive our equations of love
the ones we answered incorrectly so many times before

you fill my mouth with the right answers
and your minty breath;
I wake up with the taste of you on the tip of my tongue
breathing out the faint melody of your smile