A Preserving Adventure

Dear England, with love

Two years ago while living with a gorgeous Chinese family in Singapore, I would regularly be greeted with the phrase, "The English like their tea!" each time I boiled the smaller-than-average kettle. I would smile, and carefully pour out another cup of Earl Grey, sent lovingly from home by caring friends who didn't realise I could buy it at Cold Storage two roads away. That's one silly example, but the time spent in Asia taught me more than anything else that I am really English. No matter how cosmopolitan or international I claim, or even want, to be, I can't change who I am underneath: a tea-drinking, marmalade-on-toast eating, skirt-wearing English girl.

In my mind, I harbour a hugely romantic idea of England... perhaps it's nothing more concrete than the Shangri-La, or maybe it's a place I have in my head to retreat to when I'm overwhelmed, or stressed, or away from home. My England is a place where people are resilient, tough on the outside; soft and rubbery underneath. They get on with life, pull their socks up, make do and mend. No use complaining, keep going, do anything they put their minds to, with good results. They are healthy with rosy cheeks and they're kind to old people. When the central heating breaks down in winter and there's no hot water for the bath, they boil a saucepanful and make a game out of squatting in an icy bathtub with soap and a flannel. This evening, doing just that while drinking tea from a chintz-patterned mug, I looked at my scrubbed face in the mirror, and said to myself, "You're English." And as I did so, a grin spread across my face, and I laughed. I laughed.

Where are you?

m: I'm still here.
y: Where?
m: Here. The same place I've been in for five years.
y: What do you mean? You're not, you've done so much...
m: I am, I'm still in the same place. I have the same dreams, I'm just not there. It's depressing.
y: Don't be so hard on yourself, nothing is wasted, nothing. You'll see.
m: Yeah, but you can't say that. People live their whole lives and never achieve what they set out to do, and I don't want to be one of those people. I can't. It's killing me.
y: Ok, well what is it you want to do?
m: I don't know. That's the point.
y: *sigh* Let's go for coffee.
m: Ok. But it's your turn to pay.
y: Alright. Just smile will you? For me?

Where to dance in London

Where to dance in London is a very good question. It's one that is certainly worth asking at least once in your adult life, even if you have only the most minuscule interest. Perhaps the last time you wore a pair of tights and a leotard was when you stepped gingerly into a children's class when you were seven, but you never know when the desire to throw yourself around a white studio may grip you again! As Baden Powell once said, it's good to be prepared.

About four years ago, after a bad experience at the gym and a realisation that running was soooo mind-numbing I would rather eat my own vomit, I suddenly decided that maybe the noly exercise I had ever enjoyed was dancing. A few google searches later, I resolved to take ballet classes again. The rest is history, though I must point out that I am no Leanne Benjamin, and I am far from stick thin. But I enjoy it, and in two hours in a dance studio on a weekday evening is the cheapest therapy this city has to offer. I love it. I can't always explain why, but I do. Perhaps it's the freedom, the stretching, the comfort that comes from knowing I'll never be a dancer but I can be one in a white room for 90minutes once in a while.

The journey has been interesting and must have seen the best and worst of adult dance tuition London has to offer. In my humble opinion, out of the plethora of classes on offer (and believe me, I've been to most of them), the only real options are:

The Place, Euston: Home to London's School of Contemporary Dance, the Robin Hayward Dance Theatre, friendly staff and more than one vaguely amused teacher, among other great things. They run an extensive programme of classes for adults, mostly on weekday evenings and Saturday mornings (beginning at a leisurely 11.45am). Their classes are well-taught, varied and have the added bonus of an pianist at each one. Ballet here is suitable for complete beginners up to advanced level. Added bonuses: clean changing rooms and a cafe that sells restaurant-quality food at canteen prices.

Central School of Ballet: Home to the company of the same name. Perhaps not for the faint-hearted or those who are going to be nervous at the sight of a class full of professionals on pointe. However, the three open classes each week are a complete joy. You're as likely to find a novice there to keep fit as a professional dancer taking a breather, and you'll feel welcome and safe. The teaching is slow and precise; the perfect end to a hard day at work.

Should you need shoes, or any amount of lycra then Bloch on Drury Lane is your best bet. Better still, grab a pair of leggings and some tight-fitting socks and head to a class. Like me four years ago, you may find it's one of the best things you've ever done. Good luck.

Grateful Friday

Well, the sun hasn't got his hat on today, but I am still grateful for:

1. Seeing my grandparents today. They are old and a little frail, but my grandmother is still the wisest most pragmatic person I know. She sees life through a lens of hard work and teaches me so much by her positive attitude and gracious acceptance of this life. She also made the best bread and butter pudding I have ever tasted.

2. People. Last week I didn't see very many, and it may have made me go slightly mad. This week I rectified the situation and I'm much happier as a result.

3. Tea from Peyton & Byrne. Hard to find, but oh so worth it. I'm in love with a small cardboard box!

4. My new bicycle!! She has been ordered and she will be be shiny and heavy and much-loved when she arrives.

That's all for today!

Magic to Cry For

standnotamazed

Present
‘Magic to Cry for’
Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club
Thursday 8pm 28th February 2008

Following the sell-out success of their last evening at Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club, and hot on the heels of their acclaimed show ‘Quitters’ at The Place, standnotamazed are happy to hop back on to the cabaret stage and present another serving of ‘Magic to Cry for’: a delectable evening of sophisticated cabaret from London’s most refined creators of contemporary magic.

Please come! Let me know if you'd like to come and we can go together.

Busyness

'So, how are you enjoying your life of leisure?' is a question I am asked at least once a week, and so far, I'm not sure how to reply. From the outside, I'm not gainfully employed in the conventional sense. I work, but it's increasingly hard to describe to people in one sentence (their general attention span for these things) what I actually do. Many seem to interpret 'freelance' as 'free to do whatever you like'. Hmmm. I wish. Living in my life this way has brought freedom of sorts, I don't have anyone watching over my shoulder, I've cut out endless pointless meetings, and I decide when and where to work. It sounds blissful, but the reality is a little removed! Working on my own has taught me a great deal about myself that I was unaware of, and some of the things I've learnt I don't much like. I like being busy, and I push myself, not just with work but with other things that I want to do ... my Chinese classes, seeing friends, writing, completing endless projects 'for me' that exist half-begun in my mind. These things sit like a team of workers constantly badgering all day and half of the night in the office that is my head. They make demands and I placate them with promises of time - I'll do that then, I'll get to you later, don't worry you haven't been forgotten. The thing is, I realised that there just isn't enough time to do all I want to do. And that makes me sad ... . Perhaps I shall learn to be content with what I do achieve and happy to experience this life in its fullness as it is, not stuffed full with extra things. I do hope that happens this year.

Inspiration

I don't know about you, but I find most inspiration from people who are nothing like me ... the more different they are, the more it seems I can find inspiration from their lives, the things they enjoy, the places they inhabit. I don't watch much tv, but I do read, a lot, and an increasingly high proportion of what I read is online. Just for you, I thought I'd share some of the blogs/sites I read regularly. I hope you find them as beautiful as I do.

The Black Apple aka Emily Martin, a self-made kitsch artist who has made a cult-following for herself from a cottage industry, largely from her home. She sews, paints, screenprints and creates to her heart's content and her blog is a colourful insight into her life.

Post Secret You may be familiar with the Post Secret project, which has been going for a few years. The project invites people to send in a 'secret' on a postcard. It can be about anything, but it must be something you have never told anyone. Some of the entries are published on this website, a mixture of hilarity and poignancy in one graceful glance.

John van der Put A hugely talented and funny magician, comedian, actor and writer. He is also a very good guy, and a great friend. Occasionally I laugh out loud.

That's perhaps enough for today, or perhaps I'm feeling too selfish to share any more. Either way, goodnight.

Remember

Remember that time we ate fish and talked
about nothing in your mother's kitchen?
It was last century, so far away from now,
it's frightening. We were young back then,
Photographic evidence proves it, your eyes
Aren't tired and my face is soft. There's
An innocence, a bashful hopefulness in a
Future without death.
We would change the world.

Grateful Friday

Grateful Friday has taken a wee rest recently, but here it is, (back for this week anyway!)

1. My new Suzanne Vega album, Beauty and Crime. I think it's her best ever, it's certainly a little more progressive than her older material.

2. The thought of dinner tomorrow with ten of my favourite people. Some are old friends, others are those I've met more recently. There will be tables and chairs and there will be snacks, there will!

3. Working in my warm kitchen while the rain pounded down outside yesterday.

4. A glorious blue sky cycle today even though the forecast is for snow.

5. Gladys Pashley. She's not even mine, but I love her dearly already.

6. Crumpets. Recently rediscovered and more than yummy.