Dear Richard,

We havent been spending much time together lately.  It's hard with the weather being so unfriendly.  Winter's come one month early with it's cohorts wind and rain.  It's just so cold outside, so I've been taking the bus a bit.  And Sam's been driving too.  I hope you understand.  While its fun sitting snug inside while the rain hits the glass and I get lost in my latest love (a book, a song, an imaginary life), it's just not the same without you.

Do you know how special you are to me?  When I get to missing London all I do is visit you.  I fix your flowers and remember our times spent by the canals and cobbled streets, in the sun and snow, with our friends or just the two of us.  Getting up to mischief.  Wandering.  Exploring.  Dreaming.  You know it's summer over there.  It's been more than a year since we left.


Winter has its own beauty though.  The leaves are rather beautiful.  Amber, red and burnt pumpkin, shades of rust and lemon, tossed together, strewn about like the remnants of some bygone celebration.  And what better excuse than a rainy day for cups of tea and crafting?  A trip up the mountain's on the cards too. 


Still, with winter being in charge now, with essays and readings and coffee making, reaquainting myself with needles and threads and planning winter weekends away, I haven't forgotten you.  I wanted you to know that. I think about you lots.  I've got plans for us, don't worry.  Tremendous, extraordinary, spectacular plans to get lost in, once winter's melted away.  We'll go searching for the wonderful.


And I promise, next time the sun comes out, we'll spend the day together.  Just you and me and Christchurch, the broken and the beautiful.

Yours truly,

Kirst.

 xo

Oh To Be Back...

It's Glastonbury time in the UK (much to my dismay).  The four days I spent at Glastonbury back in 2009 were amongst the best in my life.  If only I could live there, in that crazy mixed up circus of awesomeness, with tripsters and teepees, mud and music, sun and strangers, and dancing in the dark (literally.  Bruce Springsteen played.  Epic.  And Neil Young? Don't get me started - dream come true.)  Apparently the powers that be are putting the festival on hold for 2012, due to Britain's Olympics Extravaganza.  So...2013 anyone?  I'm SO keen... Here are a few snaps I dug out of the vault (read: hard drive in dire need of organisation) to aid in my moments of reminiscence...

Time of my life.

Other Autumns Ago

I miss London.  Alot.  Anyone who knows me well, knows how much that place got under my skin and into my heart.  In my moments of melancholy and nostalgia, I delve into my photographs, that I might, for a moment, be transported back, to other Autumns...

Oh London.  How I love you.  Until we meet again, my friend...

Back in the Game

I got this stunner of a book selection for the grand total of $9.90 at Borders on Sunday.  You will often find yours truly browsing the sale section at all good bookstores, new and second hand alike, in attempt to bag myself literary bargains that I otherwise would never be able to purchase.  I couldnt believe my luck when I managed to snag a couple of gems I've been wanting to add to the bookshelf for a mere $2 a piece and I even picked up a writers yearbook (albeit a year and half out of date) for the measely price of $1 - I figure the majority of publishers details wont have changed, and besides, it contains some great advice from successful authors on making your work stand out to publishers.  Maybe its meant to be, right?  This is the kick I needed to get back in the game and start sending things away in an attempt to realise my dream... (in the no nonsense words of my charming great uncle "if you dont try...you dont get").

So.  Now I've got some inspiration and some information.  All I need now is to make my drafts pile lighter and for the final pile to come into fruition... I'm working on compiling a portfolio of work for the Creative Writing paper next semester and am thinking about posting some of my pieces on here to step out of my comfort zone and get some "sharing" practise.  Watch this space...

 

(PS the fourth one down is Ondaatje's English Patient - forgive my amateur photography...)

xo

Dear London

God I miss you.

Some days I wake up and the moment before I open my eyes I imagine I am back with you, about to leap from my blankets and mattress and greet the day with enthusiasm and excitement with the thought of exploring the corners of you I am yet to be enchanted by and revisit the ones that feel like home.

It was fun, wasn't it?

I try and explain to others what you did, what you've done to me, how you've challenged and changed me. But I fear now the repetition of your wonder leaves me somewhat saddened that no matter how many times and in how many ways I try to explain it, no one ever really understands. 

You bestowed upon me the belief in myself to develop my own style - from the way that I dress to the music I dance to, the company I keep and the dreams that I constantly conjure, the thought clouds and imaginings that some day may (thanks to you) become matters of fact.  I arrived in love with your air of anonymity, and the simultaneous, seemingly contradictory quality of feeling like I didn't have to be an anybody here, I could be someone.  I left with that notion in my heart and a tear in my eye. 

I miss the way you made me ride your slippery streets after winter snow and rain and the smell of curry wafting tantalisingly down Globe Road.  I miss Friday afternoon leading into night drinks at the Camel after work and Brick Lane bargains and bagels and feeling like I could be one of those girls on Sunday wearing vintage heels and bright red lipstick and kissing every minute of life with it.  I miss riding my darling bicycle Richard alongside the canal and dreaming about what the insides of those house boats look like and how I'd decorate my own with thrift finds and cupcakes and polaroids of my travels.  I miss strawberry beer and hoolahoops, steamed buns from China town, the Camden falafel bar and even, dare I say it, the aisles of opportunity at Asda. I miss taste testing at Borough Market, train trips to the countryside, meditation classes and open mic nights, thrift store bargains from Islington and Hammersmith, exploring Shoreditch's bars and brews.  I miss calling it the "offie", the "chippie" and inserting "innit" into conversation at every given opportunity.  I miss my family of friends, and feeling like a local watching fireworks at Viccy Park, (even just calling it Viccy Park), moving with the masses on Oxford Street and watching the Hyde Park rollerskaters.  I miss cold weather at Christmas time and the lights, all the lights, all year round and everywhere, West End theatres and Covent Garden buskers, and evenings spent roaming the pavement in wonder and amusement with a camera in my hand.  I miss the man selling coffee from his kombi at Notting Hill Market, cheap film nights on Whitechapel Road, the museums, the galleries, the epitaphs, sculptures, statues, monuments, the incredible tangible history I am yet to really fathom (and I hope I never do).

I miss you.  All of you.  With all your eccentricities and contradictions, with all your crazy beautiful changes of costume, with all your ups and downs, comings and goings, has beens and yet to becomes.

I miss you so much, my dear and loyal friend.

I'll be seeing you soon.  Save me a seat in the front row of your show.

Yours truly,

Kirst. xo

Lessons Learned

Yep.  I'm doing it again.  If, through my clumsiness and lack of common sense amongst other things, I manage to provide valuable advice to someone (without them having to go through the learning process itself which is quite often painful, time consuming or embarassing) then my ramblings will have served a purpose.

So, without further ado...

1. Avoid facial exfoliant granules in the eye area at all costs.  Not only is this extremeley annoying and painful, the red eye aftermath can lead to numerous stares from strangers as they try and work out whether you are a) part zombie, b) suffering from pink eye or c) just really "hiiiiiiiiiiiiigh" (seen "Knocked Up?" then you get it.  If you haven't, you need to.)

2. Never get to the point where you get to thinking that you are "too cool" or "too rich" for the $2 shop.  There are bargains in there beyond your wildest dreams and piles of potential just waiting for you to pick them up and get creative.  I had boycotted them for a while believing them to be "full of crap".  Whilst the crap:cool ratio can quite often be in favour of the former, every now and then you stumble across something fresh and funky.  Just give it a go.  Go on.  Don't be judgmental.

3. When the strawberries in your garden are ripe, pick them immediately.  Stand at the window and watch them ripen if you have to because otherwise some scheming, sneaky little bird will swoop down and devour the loveliness for themselves, leaving you with nothing but remnants of juicy red sweetness and a broken heart.  (Two strawberries down....)

4. Just because you watch Project Runway does not mean you will be New Zealand's Next Top Seamstress.  You will need patience and practice and nimble fingers (of which I have none).  But I'm not giving up!

5. Listening to Black Rebel Motorcycle Club will actually make you feel like a superstar.  Their sounds have been my theme music this week.  Whether I've been hanging out washing in my pyjamas or hitting the pavement in an attempt to finish christmas shopping (note: attempt) it has been my source of inspiration.  It's kinda hard not to strut while listening to them actually.  (I have just now thought that maybe people weren't staring at my red eye, but rather my strutting in time with music they couldn't hear...) I strongly recommend.

6. The joy and satisfaction of eating a salad made solely with the greenery in your garden is somewhat depleted if you notice a slug on your plate just as you've taken a forkful into your mouth.  Note: do not trust boyfriends to do the washing part of salad preparation.

7.  No matter how many hints you drop at your boyfriend that maybe he might like to go clean shaven for a change, he will not pick them up and he will not become beardless.  He will, however, if he is asked to be a unicycling clown in a christmas parade and wants to get his face painted.  Boys...

Lessons Learned

My mind has been working overtime lately.  Serious over time.  Working over time and not even getting paid for it.  What's that about?  As a result of this excessive contemplation, I have reached a new stage of enlightenment.  (Clearly not ACTUAL enlightenment, but I feel I have my feet on a higher rung of the ladder towards ACTUAL englightenment, so to speak).  I thought I would share with you some of the things I  learned this week.

1.  Don't bake cakes after 10 pm.  You will most probably be tired, sit down, have a cup of tea, read other peoples blog posts and forget about it.  The cake will turn out dry and you will just get mad.  Tiredness + bad cake   = unnecessary anger.  (Hypothetically, of course).

2. Do not underestimate the power of a matching set of underwear.  Fact: I did not own a matching set of undies until three nights ago.  I always felt it was too expensive and whenever I toyed with the idea of branching out, the old "who sees my underwear anyway?" argument always came back to haunt me.  But I did it.  And they are awesome and I feel wonderful.  Go buy some.

3.  If you have a pair of shoes with holes in, fix them or bin them.  Because if you don't, you will go to put them on and then sigh in exasperation that no, the shoe fixing fairy did not magically come and visit you since last time you put them on and yes, they do, in fact, still have a hole in them.  You will get mad that you didn't deal with this problem earlier, but still wear them, entertaining the idea that maybe the hole isn't all that bad, and then you will get sore feet and get even madder.  Sort. It. Out.  (Again, this is hypothetical).

4.  If you need to go to the doctor, GO.  If you are anything like me, and have been putting off a visit to the medical experts because you are too a) tight b) scared c) lazy or d) all of the above, then bite the bullet and just go.  Trust me.  You will feel SO good afterwards.

5.  It is actually possible to fall in love with an item of clothing.  I shouldn't have gone in there, I knew it would change me.  Emporium is a new vintage store in the centre of Christchurch and lordy I am in love with a dress that they have (actually, if I am to be totally honest, there are three dresses.  And one pair of boots.  And maybe a necklace also.  But that's it.  Truly.)  This dress in particular was calling out to me from the rack, virtually radiating with awesomeness that I picked it up and just stared at it longingly.  That is, until the shop assistant came over and said "are you ok?" but not in the "are you ok?" tone meaning "can I help you with anything?" but more the "are you ok?" which was actually inquiring into the status of my mental wellbeing.  I had to stammer, red faced "ah, yeah, your shop is awesome" and then back away slowly.  Dammit.  I'm going to have to go back in disguise now.

6. Decluttering is extremely therapeutic.  I did not realise exactly how therapeutic until this week.  I feel so much better and excited about the organisation of my work space and wardrobe.  (And the prospect of making new stuff and adding new outfits.  Which hopefully will not result in REcluttering).

7. Walking is the shiz.  Don't get me wrong, I've always been a fan of the waewae express.  But I rediscovered the simple joy of the solitary stroll this week, seeing as my bike is currently out of action (needing new tyres).  Walking in the sunshine, alone with my thoughts, has been a valuable meditative exercise.

I am feeling a bit better about everything this week.  Long may it continue.

Happy Saturday everyone.

xo