A day in London, in pictures

I'm having trouble figuring out what to post. Not because I have nothing to share, but because I've been a bit camera-happy recently and now I've got too much. Somehow my camera has become my journal and I photo everything: walks, places I eat, books I'm reading, sunny parks and foamy cappucinos. It hardly matters how important my activity--snap-snap-snap--there it goes. I don't usually do anything with these photos--I don't fix them, crop them, sometimes even look at them--but they're there. Sometimes I may look back--maybe while looking for something else entirely--and see one or two and think, 'ohmyGOODNESS, I remember that deli!' and the moment, the day, even what I was thinking about or reading comes rushing back instantly. It's a crazy rush, a mad trigger. But usually there they sit, in my archives, untouched by time or attention.

I remember I saw a movie once ages ago where the main guy kept taking photos of these divey motel rooms and his girlfriend said something like, 'Why do you take pictures of the hotel room and not the Eiffel Tower?' to which he replied, 'I want to photograph the things that I'll forget.' And while the rest of the movie is a complete blank--I may have changed the channel five minutes later--that part stuck with me. And it has, in part, guided my own picture-taking philosophy: there's nothing too big or too small to capture--what matters is that you don't forget. It doesn't have to be a good photo, well-framed and balanced and perfectly lit. Just take it, capture it, immortalize it.

So...here's last Friday in pictures. I don't feel like doing explanatory captions today, but if you have a question about anything, do feel free to ask. In short, my day consisted of Brick Lane, Rochelle Canteen, some classic London shops, a gallery, and Late at Tate Britain, where a couple deejays performed some classical works in a very nonclassical style. It was a good day.

I'm going for it: Camden Passage pictures.

At the risk of my head imploding, I've decided to throw caution to the wind and post the pictures I took of Camden Passage last week. Please note that Camden Passage is the greatest antiques market EVER, even though sometimes the vendors are a-holes. Because then there are other vendors that are FUN, and that's just life.

The antiques market as an industry I find really interesting. On one hand, the antique shops here look nearly identical to the ones back home: dusty furniture, chipped tea cups, yellowed doilies, rusted tins. But on the other hand, antiques here can actually be OLD. I mean, you can buy brooches in this country that pre-date California, let alone pre-date Californian antiques.

Not that I'm an authority on the industry, because I'm really not. I don't really get how it works. I mean, can you find English antiques in America? Are there international antique shipping laws? Can you only buy American old stuff in America and English old stuff in England? You think I'd know more about this subject, having grown up in Jenks, Oklahoma (town motto: 'The Antique Capital of America'). (Seriously.) However, unlike Camden Passage, Main Street Jenks is primarily busied by old people shuffling from shop to shop, occasionally buying things, but probably more likely stealing them. Camden Passage is slightly more self-conscious, and busied by hipsters, collectors, and random weekend revelers who wander through on their way to brunch.

Ah, well. I don't go to antiques market to learn about antiques, I go to get ripped off.

And now for the photos! I would like to point out that none of the below displays have been altered to suit my photographic purposes. All chaos is naturally occurring.

Of course, not all of the antiques are necessarily ancient...I would venture to guess this fork dates as far back as the 70's.

This guy was awesome. He asked me if I'd send him the photos I took of him and when I said sure, proceeded to write down his snail mail address. He commented as he scribbled his post code, 'Everyone says they'll send me the photos they take, but they never do.'

'Boats on Water,' or 'My Recent Trip to Greece.'

I was originally going set up an online photo album of the recent shots I took in Greece* and just provide a link to it, but then I realized that I am TERRIBLE at looking at other people's online photo albums, no matter how matter how much I want to see pictures from their vacations to Egypt**, so why should I expect you to go to the effort to look through mine? So instead I will FORCE you to look at them by posting some of the shots right HERE:

The first couple of days there were stormy, which was great for two reasons: one, it made the sky so much more dynamic than a sunny day can ever do, and two, it made me nostalgic for my childhood spent in the heart of tornado alley, Oklahoma. I didn't realize how much I missed the wall-shaking rumbles and room-lighting flashes and the black-and-orange sky of a good, honest springtime tempest until our mountaintop villa started shaking during dinner on our second night. I've got to start planning my vacations back home better. If I don't sprint through hail on the way to a tornado cellar at least once on my next family visit, then I haven't planned properly.

'Boat on water.'

'Men playing cards.'

Seeing these two playing cards in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week, in a taverna on the water, made me realize that somewhere along the career path, I made a wrong turn.

'Another Boat on Water.'

I know what you're thinking: 'Did you photoshop that boat into the photo?' No. No, I did not. But I DID make it appear using the power of my mind, so I still cheated.

*Sidebar: I recently had the pleasure of spending ten days in Corfu and got back a week ago. It was rad. I am now dog-sitting in Kensington, which I dare say is as much a leap in lifestyle as Greece was. I would post photos from this, too, except I'm spending most of my time at Whole Foods.

**I'm actually lying. I don't at ALL want to see your vacation photos of Egypt. But your wedding album, now THAT would be a treat.

the lakes

I've got half an hour til Baby 3 wakes, so I'm feeling totally high on life and ready to post some photos from the Lake District...And before you start expecting mountain vistas and reflective bodies of water, let me clarify: when on the road, you can really only see...trees. Lots and lots of trees. I'm sure on the other side of said trees were panoramas to make the heart flutter, but--like oh so many trips to Yosemite when your glimpses of the majesty are sentenced to the gap in forest where they create turnouts for your car and wooden signs announcing your location, where tourists congregate en masse with cameras, guaranteeing that every photo from Yosemite is of the same mountain range/glacier/meadow-and-lake--well...it was like that. Beautiful, stately, pristine, and mostly out of sight.

And so the photos below are of the tiny views, the everyday sights. The Family McQuade had allotted a handful of cabins in a park that was designed around Activities for the Whole Family, and the entertainment (from pottery painting to rock climbing to bowling) never ceased...it was nature the way it was meant to be done.

Apparently you can paddle boat around the lake...however, given that I couldn't feel my nose, hands, or feet, I was not about to pedal around in a wet, plastic seat to see if I could find more trees to look at.

The handsomest devil around: Patriarch McQuade, and the man whose 80th birthday was the cause of the weekend festivities.

You might think, 'Wouldn't this be a nice path to bicycle down?' But you'd be wrong. And that's all I'm going to say on the subject.

Nature at its finest...this glowing beacon of the night contained a heated indoor water park (imagine huge slides and fake palm trees), a bowling alley, a half dozen restaurants, and shops shops shops. Why hike outdoors when you've got miles to see in here?

You will be happy to note that bowling is consistent no matter what country you are in...you will still get stylish shoes to sport over psychedelic carpet and balls that glow in the dark. So if you're ever abroad and feeling homesick, just head for the nearest bowling alley...you won't even know you've left Kentucky.

Even the waterfalls were multi-hued...this, THIS is the land of the free and home of the brave.

And a photo of the renowned trees.

Happy Two Week Londoniversary!

Today is my two-week Londoniversary. (Yes, you will receive a weekly countdown; you may as well accept that now.) I feel like I should celebrate in some way, but I can't put my finger on a good way to say 'London, you do me right. Let's make love. Right here, on this wet cobblestone sidewalk.' Maybe I should do something secret, something that only we know about, like go out to eat in nothing but a trench coat. Something to make London go, 'That's right, baby. You and me, we gots somethin'.' (Apparently London is an Italian gangster in this fantasy.) But we'll see. Maybe I'll just settle for streaking across Tower Bridge.

In the meantime, though, here's a tiny ode to Wapping...

This is where I'm kitty-sitting. I love it. Staying here makes me feel very Jane Austen, very walks-in-the-countryside, very 'sweep me off my feet, Colin Firth.' (But then, all of Wapping tends to do that to me. So if you see Colin around, tell me to meet me at St. Katharine's Docks. I'll be the girl in the trench coat.)

There is a canal of some sort right outside my door called Spirit Quay. (I KNOW, right? That's the sort of brilliant naming they do here.) It's a gorgeous path down red brick sidewalks, with overhanging gardens and arching autumnal trees...

Totally. DUCKS. This place is out of control. And yes, I am officially that person who photographs ducks. I am but a short cry away from puppies and church steeples. Forgive me.

Okay, so this picture is less for photography's sake, and more to point out HOW MANY DUCKS THERE ARE. Seriously. If they decide to group and attack, we wouldn't stand a chance. In the meantime, there's always dinner on the table! mmmm...come a little closer, aggressive mallard friend...

A rainy night on Tower Bridge. I've decided TB does its best work in the rain--it glows a little softer or something...