14. معجزة على باكر ستريت

مكتبة جديدة على باكر ستريت في لندن, ممتاز!

Lights in the dark - Festival launch - Massive storm

Lights in the dark

At night on the South Bank I saw a new-to-me footbridge over the Thames. It was all lit up so I walked and walked to get across it. Everywhere I looked I could see lights shining out in the very dark nights we get once summer gets underway here. It was balmy and sultry with a nice bit of breeze too. Perfect. There is something special about being mid-river, looking out to the city. The water always seems dangerous and fast flowing right down below, a silent counter-balance to the liveliness and chatter.

My feet couldn't take the hard pavements, so I got a taxi after the Houses of Parliament and was able to hear about the new circular tower which has been built seemingly above the buildings at the end of my street. In fact it is on the other side of the river. It had a golden layer near the top, but the taxi driver didn't know whether it was a restaurant. So there's a place to visit next time I am home.

Festival Launch

The Festival launch was a surprise. Normally I go with a friend to things like this, so it was a shock to be at a loose end, though I had a chat with someone before going in. The best bits were discovering new but famous poets and hearing already known-to-me poets. Even better than that was saying hi to the Prof who gave one of the lectures on the Iowa poetry class I am enjoying. As he spoke on stage I was thinking, yes that really is you! Just like in the video. 

I excelled myself at the book stall by picking up a book and saying I shouldn't, but I'm going to have a little look at this first to decide whether I was going to buy it, then I glanced to my right and there was the author. I apologised for being so crass and she laughed and signed the book before I had even paid for it. She is a hugely political force in Romania. Amazing poems and delivery. I hadn't thought I would appreciate God references, but I guess the religion I am battling against and bathed in is not as much of an option as I had imagined. 

First time

Earlier I'd said that I hoped I might bump into people I knew and might stay out for as long as I could get away with! Then I'd asked my father if there was a time I really needed to be back by so he could lock up. I have never had such a conversation with him before. He laughed and said midnight. My mother, characteristically, took this seriously and said no that was fine, just come back whenever and she'd come downstairs to open the door for me. In the old days she'd throw the keys down from their bedroom window onto the pavement! Then ply me with coffee to hear what I'd been up to... No time was too late for her.

Massive Storm

I didn't miss it completely, but only one flash woke me. There was no buffeting of the house by the wind. That is what keeps me awake out here in the country. The gusts are terrifying and all too dangerous as we have a 200? year old tree near us which may one day fall and crush two of the bedrooms to the West side of the house.

10 - 15 = 1974 - 1979

We are doing collages of images which represent aspects of each 5 year period of our lives. Today was the third session, hence we looked at the years from 10 to 15.

I didn't aim to be comprehensive. There is only so much I can do with back copies of the National Geographic and the weekend magazines.

The bits which got missed out were:

An amazing four poster bed I made for myself using huge blue curtains and some red ones for the interior, plus furniture stacked up dangerously. That was a high point of my childhood!

Various scrapes I got into at school, I can't imagine why I didn't get caught and soundly punished. Maybe they see everything and just sigh, waiting to see if it is a phase which passes.

The beggar I asked to photograph who sat looking glamorous on a brick wall for the price of a cup of tea. I liked negotiating with total strangers even then. I insisted on taking two photos to make sure one was good.

My wanderings through the old Tate. The mercury, the mirrored cubes, the bricks, the snail, the badminton game, Hockney, Warhol blah blah blah....lots of famous stuff just littered about for free any time it was the holidays because mother was at work and we were on a very loose rein.

The garages and basements of my grandmother's block of flats, Dolphin Square, plus the pool and all the gardens.

This has distracted me from being a good mother. T had to call me from the station to get picked up. This is not the first time I have forgotten to go down there for him. 

The attic of our house, where my brother and I split up the territory easily and used to sit happily chatting next to the water tank!

The other little place we made for ourselves beside the washing machine in the kitchen, with empty film cannisters for collecting money and upturned buckets to sit on. Mine was smaller because I was older and taller, so needed more headroom.

My radio went in there too so I could listen to Nixon's resignation speech live. Goodness knows what time it was, but I was into politics at some level even then. I bet he didn't imagine a 10 year old in London listening to every word! How did I even know it was going to be broadcast?

The tents and dens we made from the poor old sun loungers. I liked my comforts so rigged up power supplies and had the radio and a light in there.

That's enough for now. I will go on for ever if I don't stop, obviously.

Ain't no sunshine when you're gone

This was sung to me in London as well: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=tIdIqbv7SPo

My heart is not having a good time though. Last night I got pain in my teeth and jaw, then more of this wierd feeling on the front of my neck and upper chest. Then it included my left chest too. Very odd and unsettling. Will the medics give it a name or treat me like an idiot and tell me it is heartburn?

One of my 3 poetry groups is messing with my heart in a different way. One poem someone wrote and posted was so beautiful I could die with longing for what she knows.

I can console myself with the thought that there are many things I have experienced which may never be given to others. That isn't consolation though, more awareness, and can only be helpful if it leads to acceptance and appreciation for what -is- in each of our lives.

Is that the first roar of the combine harvesters? It is only June?

London - 3 - Driving home

After the big family dinner we eventually said all our goodbyes and I got into the back of the car. My mother always sits in the front passenger seat and my father in the driving seat on the right. I always used to sit on the left in the back.

As we drove back to Pimlico I could hear my parents discussing some plans for another dinner. They were almost arguing, one being bossy to the other, familiar uncomfortable frictions.

I just sat in the back uninvolved, able to look at the huge white facades of these London houses which we have driven past so very many times. It is like being in an endless rerun of the past with tiny variations.

The huge houses mean nothing to me though. We don't know who lives there, never will. They get cleaner in the boom times and may revert to the sad, dusty state they used to be in for years when they were just too big for anyone to maintain properly.

London morphs each time I go back, but I can barely see it in this area. The street lights are the same, so are the trees in the squares, the nearly empty pavements, the traffic lights and restaurants at the junctions.

London - 2 - My parents' bed

On reflection the most significant event of this trip to London was falling asleep.

After a day of taxi conversations,
reading poetry collections at the Poetry Library,
enjoying the pinky metal handrails and spaciousness of the Royal Festival Hall,
being splashed by the fine spray from a fountain, 
squeezing into the tiniest bookshop ever in the Brunei Gallery by SOAS, 
having more conversations in there, 
being approached by a strange man in front of some photographs who turned out to be my brother, 
walking past the Oasis pool which was on my way home from school,
taking part in the demo in Parliament Square,
trying to whoosh through the Tate as a short cut to home...

I curled up on the sofa under all the pictures I like in the drawing room,
shut my eyes and dozed,
then moved to my mother's side of my parents' bed when guests came for dinner,
and really fell asleep there for several hours.

It's a privilege beyond anything to just be there and sleep.
It may never happen again.
No one was asking me questions.
I wasn't arguing and trying to explain.
No one was preaching at me.
No possible disagreements.
Wordless something.

London - 1 - One Love - U2

On the fast midnight drive back I realised that the pronounciation of Umm Kulthum I have been used to is in fact the Palestinian version: 't' instead of 'th'. I am joining the dots one at a time, while thinking about something else entirely along the M4. Well, not thinking at all, just listening to my music on my own. Enjoying the sensation of whizzing across my country, curve by curve, red light by red light.

I was sung to on the South Bank. Eventually the song had to end so I gave £2 and asked the man if anyone sang to him, because it was so lovely. He sang another song specially for me, so I stood there for longer in the midsummer day sunshine, being sung to in front of the whole of London. I wondered if this were my destiny? Well, it was for those moments.

One Love - U2

Sofa time

My parents are watching tv. I can hear the little clinking noises my mother is making as she eats from a china plate. I am just surfing on their sofa and resting after a busy day.

My mother said that a family home ceases to be so once the parents are dead. Hmm, so spending time just being here on their sofa in their drawing room is the best thing I could do. I sat in their bed earlier and had a heart to heart with my mother. She gave me a jumper to wear and a fleece to have over me too.

Earlier I pinched my father's sheepskin coat to go out in, so that has seen loads of short films at the new Tate with me.

On the Millenium Bridge over to St Paul's I could see the Nat West tower, close to where my father, S and I used to work, and the fairy tale turrets of St James's, 2 tube stops from this house. Every way I looked I could see buildings from different parts of my life. Going by bus was the same, here where I joined a demonstration, there where the wedding reception was.

Christmas Pudding on Easter Day?

I am at my parents' house. We had a very important discussion this evening over dinner: the menu for Easter Day Lunch. My father has it all sorted out, but wanted to know whether Christmas Pudding might be too much or not. He is already preparing a delicious strawberry ice-cream.

We decided it would be way too much and not right for guests from outside our immediate family! But having it in the evening would be fantastic. We laughed so much as we said to each other that it is clearly an old French custom to have such a thing for dinner. My mother's ancestry comes in very handy.

London has a beach

I have just found out about the new beach in London. I grew up there, but that doesn't seem to help with keeping up to date with what is going on!

Photo of the beach complete with sunshine and a sand sofa

Feeling Happy

Last week I was in London for the weekend. My brother and I spent some hours together near St Martin's Lane. We visited 7 places at least!

While we were chatting in a dark middle eastern themed restaurant in Neal's Yard I said that I was feeling happy at the moment. It seemed so strange to say that given the turmoil in the world and my current interests in political topics.

We mused that London amplifies one's mood, so when feeling down London can send you further down, but being on an up there is a great thing.

Earlier he had answered a salesman's question of 'How are you today?' with 'Terrible!!' with a big smile. We were in a shirt shop. That broke the ice, so while he chose some shirts we all discussed our favourite writers, children, life in general.

All in all the 48 hours I spent in London were a wonderful holiday. I haven't yet touched on going on the demonstration as there is so much to reflect on I may never get round to writing a blog post. That demo was the push for me to go in the first place.