I would love to live in the rounded corner of this building, particularly since I'd then be looking out on the Thames each morning. Maybe when I'm finally fat, coke-addled and making millions by producing terrible vehicles for comedians who cannot hack it anymore but are somehow still popular.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
A picture I realllly like but couldn't find any context for.
I would love to live in the rounded corner of this building, particularly since I'd then be looking out on the Thames each morning. Maybe when I'm finally fat, coke-addled and making millions by producing terrible vehicles for comedians who cannot hack it anymore but are somehow still popular.
Sometimes I like to pronounce the word "Bitch" as "Bee-Itch"
It makes me feel more "street", you know? It works best when said very slowly, being careful to rub ones tongue over the two syllables with a thoroughness that is almost amorous in it's moistosity.
Such are the factoids which spill from me after a satisfying meal and a day of adventurin' in central London. Good luck with the rest of this entry!
Anyways, time to catch up on pictures.
First, on the same day in Reading where I took a picture of that war monument....I visited the remains of a monastery and the nice little bit of river beside. It was a fun enough thing to romp through and I appreciated the little monk ditty they put up for all to read.
Though I wasn't in Bristol long and even then not in a very exciting bit, I took two pictures. One of the church right outside my hotel window and another of the train station. It occurs to me that the train station looks as if it could be an adjunct to the Canadian houses of parliament. I swear, even the hot dog stands in England have at least a few Gothic arches.
Right then, on to Christmas in Broadstairs. As I'm sure I've mentioned before, my Aunt Liz and Uncle Phil are down that way (along with cousins Carla and Andrew as well as many others!) and they never fail to be wonderful hosts. I arrived for a highly enjoyable carnival of people coming by the former hotel which they call home, with myself tightly hooked into a pair of IV's (one labelled "Brandy" and the other "Mince Pies"). I also won ten quid on a pub gambling machine, played with the twin boxer dogs who always give me joy (Webster and Harvey), took a few seaside pictures and generally enjoyed myself so well that I was paying for it until yesterday. Could one ask for anything more?
Two days of slightly surreal work (rendered as such by my being the only person in the whole National Rail Technical Block who wasn't on vacation) and two evenings of exploratory walks finished off the week. Tomorrow I head to Reading for New Years and also to get the rest of my junk which I was unable to carry with me when I moved.
When I woke up this morning, it occurred to me that I had some fliers for places in London which I hadn't the time to explore yet. I made myself an itinerary over breakfast and set off to fulfill it. I made the first item on my list, The British Library near Kings Cross, and even took a photo of the rather impressive Kings Library (this column of ancient texts went straight through the whole building), but after I left there...something came over me.
Though I have visited England many times in my life and I have visited central London every chance I've had since my arrival in October...I guess you could say there is still some tourist in me or perhaps some "little boy who grew up in Carp". My eyes widened slightly and the plan I'd drawn up in my mind became covered over by a myriad of overriding messages which said things like "Wow gee this sure is a neat city" and "Oh wow look at that thing over there! Let's go look at, listen to and maybe smell it".
So I took a good walk past all sorts of wonderful buildings until I, seemingly inevitably, found myself in the Embankment area.
After a little more aimless gawping at things such as a sandwich chain which has a rather clear message, I found myself the highly engaging South Bank Book Market. In it I found a lot of what you might expect, but also some wonderful authentic prints from the past 150 years which I would have bought if I was at the point where I could justify spending twenty-five quid on original fashion art of 1920's flapper girls or sections from children's educational picture books of the Victorian Era. I came eerily close to spending ten quid on a 148 year old newspaper!. I realize that may not be soooo incredible, but it's the fact that I found it in the kind of venue where I'm used to only finding Hardy Boy books and puzzle books with all the crosswords and mazes already done that blew my mind.
The book market takes place directly in front of the National Film Theatre building. I'd seen it before but never gone in and so, prompted by some heavy rain that sprang into being, I investigated. I actually ended up seeing a flick and I really enjoyed the high quality of the theatre. I just might look into a membership, since they show such a great variety of works. Plus my money wouldn't just be supporting the building and the employees, it would help towards the restoration of old and obscure film prints - something I don't exactly have much trouble getting behind.
When I came out it was dark and I was greeted by slightly recontextualized sights which sent me straight back into gawp mode. Yes I'd seen them before, but to see them at night as well as to think that I could now visit these sites and sights on damn near any time that I fancy...well.
I just wrote "What can I say?" then deleted it as that is a question I almost never have trouble answering. I can say that as 2006 comes to a close that I think it has been a pretty damn good year. It started with my hitting the brick
wall that comes from finishing your degree and having to decide what comes next, but then went into a turbulent stretch where I made a film, met several interesting people whose company I enjoyed and abilities I respected, took several hits straight to the chin and kept on going until I achieved a dream I've dreamt since my early teens. All this and without ever sacrificing my beliefs, acquiring stupid debts or hurting anyone to get what I wanted.
It's been a good year.
I hope you all can say the same.
Now let's see where we wind up next.
Such are the factoids which spill from me after a satisfying meal and a day of adventurin' in central London. Good luck with the rest of this entry!
Anyways, time to catch up on pictures.First, on the same day in Reading where I took a picture of that war monument....I visited the remains of a monastery and the nice little bit of river beside. It was a fun enough thing to romp through and I appreciated the little monk ditty they put up for all to read.
Though I wasn't in Bristol long and even then not in a very exciting bit, I took two pictures. One of the church right outside my hotel window and another of the train station. It occurs to me that the train station looks as if it could be an adjunct to the Canadian houses of parliament. I swear, even the hot dog stands in England have at least a few Gothic arches.Right then, on to Christmas in Broadstairs. As I'm sure I've mentioned before, my Aunt Liz and Uncle Phil are down that way (along with cousins Carla and Andrew as well as many others!) and they never fail to be wonderful hosts. I arrived for a highly enjoyable carnival of people coming by the former hotel which they call home, with myself tightly hooked into a pair of IV's (one labelled "Brandy" and the other "Mince Pies"). I also won ten quid on a pub gambling machine, played with the twin boxer dogs who always give me joy (Webster and Harvey), took a few seaside pictures and generally enjoyed myself so well that I was paying for it until yesterday. Could one ask for anything more?
Two days of slightly surreal work (rendered as such by my being the only person in the whole National Rail Technical Block who wasn't on vacation) and two evenings of exploratory walks finished off the week. Tomorrow I head to Reading for New Years and also to get the rest of my junk which I was unable to carry with me when I moved.When I woke up this morning, it occurred to me that I had some fliers for places in London which I hadn't the time to explore yet. I made myself an itinerary over breakfast and set off to fulfill it. I made the first item on my list, The British Library near Kings Cross, and even took a photo of the rather impressive Kings Library (this column of ancient texts went straight through the whole building), but after I left there...something came over me.
Though I have visited England many times in my life and I have visited central London every chance I've had since my arrival in October...I guess you could say there is still some tourist in me or perhaps some "little boy who grew up in Carp". My eyes widened slightly and the plan I'd drawn up in my mind became covered over by a myriad of overriding messages which said things like "Wow gee this sure is a neat city" and "Oh wow look at that thing over there! Let's go look at, listen to and maybe smell it".So I took a good walk past all sorts of wonderful buildings until I, seemingly inevitably, found myself in the Embankment area.
After a little more aimless gawping at things such as a sandwich chain which has a rather clear message, I found myself the highly engaging South Bank Book Market. In it I found a lot of what you might expect, but also some wonderful authentic prints from the past 150 years which I would have bought if I was at the point where I could justify spending twenty-five quid on original fashion art of 1920's flapper girls or sections from children's educational picture books of the Victorian Era. I came eerily close to spending ten quid on a 148 year old newspaper!. I realize that may not be soooo incredible, but it's the fact that I found it in the kind of venue where I'm used to only finding Hardy Boy books and puzzle books with all the crosswords and mazes already done that blew my mind.The book market takes place directly in front of the National Film Theatre building. I'd seen it before but never gone in and so, prompted by some heavy rain that sprang into being, I investigated. I actually ended up seeing a flick and I really enjoyed the high quality of the theatre. I just might look into a membership, since they show such a great variety of works. Plus my money wouldn't just be supporting the building and the employees, it would help towards the restoration of old and obscure film prints - something I don't exactly have much trouble getting behind.
When I came out it was dark and I was greeted by slightly recontextualized sights which sent me straight back into gawp mode. Yes I'd seen them before, but to see them at night as well as to think that I could now visit these sites and sights on damn near any time that I fancy...well.
I just wrote "What can I say?" then deleted it as that is a question I almost never have trouble answering. I can say that as 2006 comes to a close that I think it has been a pretty damn good year. It started with my hitting the brick
wall that comes from finishing your degree and having to decide what comes next, but then went into a turbulent stretch where I made a film, met several interesting people whose company I enjoyed and abilities I respected, took several hits straight to the chin and kept on going until I achieved a dream I've dreamt since my early teens. All this and without ever sacrificing my beliefs, acquiring stupid debts or hurting anyone to get what I wanted.It's been a good year.
I hope you all can say the same.
Now let's see where we wind up next.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Just thought I'd share...
...a good bit of fun for the holidays.
Meanwhile, I'm back from Broadstairs and it was lovely. More words and pictures when I've shaken off the 32 year old Brandy my cousin Carla's husband brought back from France.
Meanwhile, I'm back from Broadstairs and it was lovely. More words and pictures when I've shaken off the 32 year old Brandy my cousin Carla's husband brought back from France.
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