Aeolistic


The Windy Crag
December 14, 2011, 11:21 pm
Filed under: Europe, Travel | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

We affectionately termed Paros the ‘Windy Crag’ because…well, it’s windy and rocky. There’s apparently a constant stream of wind between Paros and Naxos, and this makes Paros a popular windsurfing spot. I grew fond of the Windy Crag, particularly on the day we went on the long, long walk documented in the above photos. We walked from Parikia over to a ruin we could see in the far distance. It involved walking through beaches and over hilly and rocky terrain and it took about 4 hours there and back but we got there! I’d say it was my favourite part of the whole trip.



By the river

(I stood and watched this coot for a minute as it struggled against the current)

Having acquired a new job (yay!), now comes the flat hunt. Inevitably, as I search for somewhere else to live, I become nostalgic for Richmond and all its prettiness. Richmond has treated me well for the past 6 months. It’s quaint and photogenic. It was always going to be a difficult transition for a girl from Croydon to move to Richmond, but it has been much better than it could have been. I guess my accent – honed through seven reluctant years at a private school – helps me to blend in, and I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to live in such a beautiful area.

The real difficulty I have living here is the microcosmic nature of it all. The wealthy and the middle class have found a haven in Richmond, and here they do not have to confront the real struggles that exist within London. There are hardly any homeless people to be seen here. The streets are impeccably clean. The crime rate is one of the lowest across the country. Left-leaning as I am, I am always taken aback as I walk through Richmond and Petersham on my way home by the saturation of front gardens with placards emblazoned with Zac Goldsmith’s face. These houses vote Conservative. These houses want to safeguard their wealth and protect the interests of the island. It’s a point of view I’ve never been able to understand, no matter how hard I try.

I love to look outwards. I love meeting new people and learning things about them. I love experiencing new things and trying to gain new perspectives. I’ve never been a part of one particular group over another; I have always been a part of different groups simultaneously. Perhaps, because of this, I have never felt threatened in the same way. Even if some of my interests are not being catered for, others inevitably are. My identity is shaped by a variety of factors: being a Londoner, being a child of first generation immigrants, being of mixed race, being British, being Irish, being Indonesian, being European, being Asian, being a woman, being a young person, coming from a deprived area, going to school in a rich area, being a university graduate, being a native English speaker, being bilingual, coming from a left-leaning family, being supported by the welfare state during my childhood.

Having these (sometimes conflicting) factors to consider means I don’t need to imagine things from the perspective of others. I, and many like me, see things from a range of different perspectives and we are constantly code-switching. I have made such a transition from my childhood that I have no tradition to safeguard – my life is changing all the time, though the roots of it never change. I have no island to protect because my island is constantly expanding – not just in an economic sense, but in a sense of an increasing wealth of experiences. With these expanding horizons, I find it difficult to understand those who are staunch in their commitment to conserving the status quo.



A spring in your step

Rarely do I like one of my own photos as much as this one (above) – mainly because it was such a fluke shot. I love playing around with reflections and mirror images.

I’m clawing my way out of my photo slump, slowly but surely. It could be described more accurately as a creative slump but I’ve been making waves over the past few weeks – sewing, music, taking photos (jack of all trades, master of none). And yesterday, after a few years of avoidance, I went and bought a sketchbook and some pencils. It’s going to be like trying to write in a different language on the first few attempts but at least it’s something to do that isn’t panicking over general life confusion. I swear most of my friends feel as confused as I am right now about what to do with their lives. Perhaps it’s a quarter-life crisis or something, catalysed by the dismal job market. Instead of dying my hair and buying a leather jacket/expensive car, I’m grasping at creative straws to compensate for relative failure in the non-creative aspects of my life. Making things proves that I am productive and making progress as there is something tangible to show for my efforts.

It’s funny, actually. One of my friends called last night for a general catch-up. He said, “I knew something was up as soon as you said you’d bought a new sketchbook.” I’m that easy to read, it seems! I guess the choice I made between creative and non-creative (not that it’s so rigidly defined, but humour me) will always leave a ‘what if’ or a temporary get-out clause if everything isn’t going to plan.



Ring ring…
March 14, 2010, 12:27 am
Filed under: fashion | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

RAAAAWWWRRRR.

I got this bear ring from ASOS and I love it so much. It’s sooo heavy though. The rose ring and two knuckle duster rings are all from H&M. I’ve always had a thing for big, statement rings (and necklaces, and bracelets). I feel as though I should do a big jewellery post soon, seeing as I have amassed a vast amount of it over the last couple of years.

As it’s a Saturday, I rebelled against my weekly routine of spending hours on public transport and walked into town and back.

It was a pretty nice day, with the temperature hovering around 10°C. The weather forecasters have predicted similar (if not warmer) weather for the next few days so perhaps wishing for things really works sometimes (see: last post). I felt less like hibernating indoors and more like strolling around at a leisurely pace. I feel like I’m matching the seasons at the moment. I’m in flux and I have all sorts of ideas swirling around in my head. I feel like I’m ready for something new and different; I just need the rest of my life to catch up with me. ‘Tis the season for a spring clean, I guess.

I’m pondering my next baking adventure. Watch this space!



Little darling it seems like years since it’s been clear.

I went to Liverpool for work a few weeks ago. Despite some pretty picture opportunities, it didn’t leave me with a positive impression overall. The International Slavery Museum and the Liverpool docks in general really did stir the history student in me. However, the three people with whom I was walking around – born in Bolivia, Colombia and Afghanistan, respectively – were treated very badly; they were bashed into and stared at. Whereas in London I feel anonymous, in Liverpool I felt heavily scrutinised. The trip made it very clear that I have been spoilt in the London bubble, despite my occasional despair at its everyday aggressiveness (…on the rush hour train, in queues, etc).