It took me over six months to get back to Portobello Rd which is just a 5minute walk from my flat but it might as well have been at the top of Mt Everest because I did not have the capacity to get there. Before I became housebound I would be down there every day, even throughout my illness, and if I ever skipped a day I felt off. I felt liked I’d missed something. The street also became my number one destination for taking photographs so for me going there was like going to work. And you go to work every day right? And then it was like I’d got laid off. I was actually laid up but the end result was the same. And for most of my months indoors I pined to be back there, desperate to be back amongst the throng (is that right? sounds right looks wrong..and btw wtf even IS a throng anyway?)
I was so excited to finally get back there but the moment I put my foot down on the street it was actually incredibly anti-climatic. Nothing had changed. I had been on this intense journey (even though i didn’t actually go anywhere) which seemed to have lasted a lifetime and here I was back on the ‘Bello and it was as if I had never left. The flower seller was sat where she was always sat looking at her phone. The old narky guy who was always in the window at Joe and the Juice was still there. Eerily the seemingly same tourists were standing in the doorway of the Ginstitute taking pictures of each other.
The falafel guy who I had spoken to every day just said..oh, havent seen you in a while like it had been a few days. I’d been gone half a year and no-one had noticed. Not that I expected them too. Actually maybe I did a little bit. Actually tell a lie, I imagined there would be crowds cheering my triumphant return, ticker tape, a mariachi band, the full fucking works. And nada. Not a sausage. I didn’t take it personally. It just shows how wrapped up in their own heads everyone is. And that’s fair enough. We all are.
But having said all that I was still happy to be back, although as you can see from the photographs not everyone was. There had probably been some relief that there wasn’t that guy going round sticking his camera in people’s faces as they went about their day. Fair enough. And it took me a little while to get back into my stride but once I see someone I can’t resist capturing that’s it, I am off and running. Well not actually running. I’ve just mastered walking again. One step at a time…
p.,s what’s going on with that woman’s bag? What does that mean? And isn’t a weird thing to put on a bag?
I’m on fashion detail this week..I don’t really have any interest in the world of fashion but I am fascinated by people’s individual fashion choices. We sub-consciously zoom in these micro style decisions and formulate an opinion on the person who made them. What are they trying to say? What kind of person wears that? Do you think I could find it in a medium? I am sure that looking at this zoomed in perspectives this week you have unconsciously tried to fill in the blanks and work out what the rest of them looks like. We can’t hep ourselves. Our brains need the full picture. But I’m afraid I can’t (or won’t) provide. You will just have to live with the mystery and your imagination.
I am also showing you these close-ups as clues to where I have been taking photographs. Can you guess where? It shouldn’t be too hard to work out but If anyone sends me the correct answer I will give them a year’s free subscription to my blog. Cant’ say fairer than that. All will be revealed next week.
All photos this week taken within a 1000feet of my home (yes my world is expanding). I never thought I would ever be able to live in a smaller place after living in London. It just seemed impossible to me. I was addicted to the hustle and bustle. I loved living in an anonymous ant colony, vast and sprawling, where everyday could take you to a part of the city you had never seen even though you were born and bred in it and spent most of your adult life there too. Not only was it huge but it was also densely populated and containing representatives of pretty much every single country, culture and continent on Earth which meant it felt like you were always travelling even though you never went anywhere. And it was relentlessly stimulating. An incessant stream of activity that stopped for no-one and I just loved the buzz that came with it.
And yet for the last year or so I have barely left my neighbourhood.And much of that time was spent within a single block or two of where I lived. A tiny bubble within this huge metropolis. And yet as I saw nothing beyond the confines of my postcode and it has been the equivalent of living in a tiny village. This has meant that I got to know a lot more of my neighbours which again made my life more resemble being in a small place where everybody knows each other.
It has given me a glimpse into a quieter existence, a more chilled paced of life. And it hasn’t been all bad. And even though I’ve been ill I’ve rather enjoyed it. But even still, I’m not sure I could live in a little spot in middle of nowhere because even though I have existed happily within a tiny area it is still inhabited by a huge range of varying ethnicities and a host of wonderful characters. It also has a vast array of tourists from other countries visiting. And that is what makes it interesting. It has been a very long time since I lived in a monoculture and I think I would now find that too weird after so many decades in this melting pot.
So maybe my current life is the best of both worlds. Although I am itching to get back on the tube. I know it sounds odd but I really miss it. Not rush hour obvs. I’m sure that’s still relatively hellish but I just loved disappearing underground and re-emerging in a totally different part of London. I know all you tube travellers are going..what the fuck is he on? Is he mad? And yes maybe I’ve forgotten what it’s like and have rose-tinted spex on but still..I can dream can’t I?
This guy picked an area with very little footfall when Portobello rd is only a few minutes walk away but I think he was a lil shy and maybe not quite confident enough in his skills to face the main thoroughfare..bless him. And I would be lying if I said he was an amazing bongo player but fair play to him for being out there at all..
Enticing, confusing, intriguing, amusing words on the street this week..all part of my ongoing series “r u talkin to me” as from a rather egocentric perspective feel like these found statements might be aimed directly at me…a sign from the universe, messages from above trying to subtly steer me towards an intended fate. And as they are situated within 300 foot of my flat I might just be right…
Can you see what I mean? Do I need a doctor? Are you the doctor thats going to cure me? How do I find you? This isn’t a lot of information to go on. Do you maybe have a name? Or a number I can call? Email?
And yes I do need to pace. I appreciate the reminder. Do I need to pace more? Is that what you’re telling me?
Obviously I know these messages aren’t really for me. I’m not completely deluded. The truth is it’s just chaos with self-imposed meaning. Just like everything else. Still its just nice to think we’re a lil bit spesh now and again right? And maybe the universe is looking out for us…I guess its a reassuring thought. A galactic guardian angel protecting us and guiding our every move. I’m just not sure about the logistics..
All photographs this week taken within my home in case you hadn’t noticed. Over the last year I have spent a gob smacking, eye watering, jaw dropping, nose shattering (ok u get the gist) amount of time indoors. Like 99%. And within these walls I have been able to do very little physically or mentally so the bulk of that gargantuan piece of time pie has been spent staring into space. Major Babycakes to ground control…check the sofa, stereo on…
The only thing I’ve been able to do to pass the time is listen to music. I would be dead without music. My constant companion. My mood regulator. My daily joy injection. There are some people with my condition who can’t even listen to music because they are too sound sensitive so I am truly grateful and something I never take for granted.
Once you have been housebound for an extended period of time you never take anything for granted again..and being stuck inside this comfy prison I find myself more with gratitude for the things I have than disappointment for the things I don’t. It’s warm. It’s comfortable, I have high ceilings, I have good food and there is no chance of being shivved. I also have an amazing warden (with benefits).
A very close friend of mine is going thru extreme cancer treatment at the moment and is also full of gratitude for what she has as oppose to just focussing on the relentless shit show she is dealing with. We share a similar outlook and this is not a coincidence. The more you suffer the more you to appreciate life. The more you endure the hard shit the more you can enjoy the good shit. Unless you start a pity party for yourself. That’s the only thing you cannot do. So the hardships everyone is desperate to avoid will actually bring them what they are endlesssly seeking..true happiness which is happiness that does not require anything other than what you already have.
When everything is taken away from you, careers, friendships, pursuits, lifestyle choices..all the things you think made you you, you would think you would somehow cease to exist, or that you will be a less of a person but when they are all removed you are still you. In fact, you are more you because you realise that all these externals are not the things that define you. Without anything you are already everything you need to be. I feel more me now than I ever did and I require no outside validation to prove it.
This perspective is priceless. Would i have chosen to have four years of my life taken up with a chronic debilitating illness with a barrage of symptoms day and night to get it? Of course not, im not a fucking masochist! However i now choose to focus on what it has given me rather than what it has taken away. Eckhart Tolle in the Power of now (which am currently audiobooking) states with every moment “act like you choose it” and I love that. It stops you being a victim. It empowers you.
Don’t get me wrong, its been a fucking slog. And there were days when I thought I would lose my mind. And yet here I still am. I still exist. Nothing can take that away from me..well apart from death obviously..that’s a given..but until then Major Babycakes is chuffed to be alive, sitting on a rock floating in space around a giant fireball in an area so vast it apparently has no end. And the stars look very different today…
