Surrey, and these amazing women ...

Tonight, thanks to Cathy, I found myself sitting in her lounge with a most marvelous group of women. 

We came from Macedonia, Sweden, America x2, England, France, Bulgaria and New Zealand. 

And I found myself adoring both them, and their stories. 

There was so much laughter.  I had met some of them last week, and enjoyed them already.  Tonight was just MORE.

I love that, that where ever I go in the world, I find these marvelous women.  Full of stories and laughter, and kindness and this incredible fellowship ... from the road perhaps but from being women too.

And one of the other marvelous things I'm enjoying about England, are the charity shops.  It's how I met Cathy.  She runs one of them but ... it's also how I met this exquisite Italian L Medici handbag, Italian leather, built to last forever ...  that I so very much couldn't afford in real life but couldn't resist in the world that is secondhand here in Surrey. 

It was beyond reasonable and, just by way, it fits 3 bottles of red wine inside of itself, so very easily.

London!!!

I'm back for an overnight in London.  I needed to load my USB modem, after the debacle that was ordering a Broadband connection with SKY.   A story to be told another day ... it was THAT bad.

Today's Vodaphone-USB-modem-loading guy was a lovely young man called Prince.  He was endlessly patient with me, and I'd like to think that we laughed often - together.

For me, Hammersmith is my go-to place when I need to solve multiple shopping issues.  Printers, favours for friends, USB modem-loading and etc.  It's on the way to Lenn's place, here in London, and I can cope with hopping on the Tube, from Waterloo, and off and Hammersmith and back on, to Alperton.

It's been a bit of a homecoming for me.   I'm a creature who loves 'home', and keeps misplacing them.

Tonight, at Lenn's place, I have a VERY SMALL ( a dwarf breed surely), New Zealand leg of lamb in the oven, the potatoes and kumara just joined it, an onion as well.  Then in the pots, there are baby carrots and broccoli.  I'm in need of a feast, and Lenn seems partial to this kind of food appearing on a plate in front of him too... when he eventually gets home from work.  But that's okay because I think it still might need an hour ... at 7.30pm.

Planet Rock is keeping me company on the digital radio and Nugget, the big black cat, seemed really pleased to see me.  We chatted.  Me cautiously, him in his usual black cat, princely kind of way ... threatening to bite me if I took liberties.

I seem to have a new cold, or the old one has swung back in my nose.  It was running like a tap last night.  Today it's been slightly more civilised but I do resemble that red-nosed reindeer, dammit.  And I cough, due to the ... well,  you know.

I haven't had the heart to blog, while my internet connection has been so veryvery dodgy however, I'm hoping the freedom the 20 pounds worth of USB modem will give me, will see more action here.

The guitar player, there at the start?  That's Lenn.  The loveliest Kiwi bloke, here in London:-)

Another Day That Sparkled Here in Surrey ...

I'm trying to write of this quiet sparkle I find in my days, so often, here in England.  It's when a day slowly fills with delightful people and things. 

Today there was the small boy who makes me laugh, a kind woman who is so thoughtful, a brisk walk into the village - delighting in how easy it is to stride out and cover distances quickly.  (My anemia moment is over but not easily forgotten). 

There was a trip to the next village with the loveliest man.  He's one of two drivers on a small bus I catch here and, both of them, they make me smile too. 

And then wandering in the village I call my city.  It's tiny but it's bigger than where I currently live.  There are 3 charity shops, filled with the most magnificent books that cost about a pound.  It's heaven.

Today though ... today I splashed out on the irresistible tea cup and saucer I found there.  Espresso cup and saucer really, the Wedgwood kind.  So very very affordable secondhand.  I took one and these two delightful elderly woman kind of descended on me and said, 'But you're only taking one?!' There are two!'

And then the volunteer working in the shop, joined in, laughing ... all of them telling me not to listen to them but who could resist, I thought to myself.

They were so sweet and funny and kind, that I bought the second one, and I'm not regretting it.

I said, 'but I live alone'. 

And they said, 'Yes, but when you find someone ... ' 

I love the people I'm meeting in England.  They are some of the sweetest ever, anywhere.  In 5 months, I've met no one horrid. 

And then I strode home again, stopping in at the cafe run by the French woman, here in my village.  I have my photography workshop venue, and she makes the most exquisite Mille Feuille - my occasional treat actually.

It's a been a good day, full of good people.

I love when that happens.

Don't You Love It When ...

Don't you love it when your bowl of pasta arrives and it looks too small to fill you, then you begin to feel warm and satisfied, and realise ... the bowl is still 2/3's full!

Don't you love it when you stop to listen to a really good musician and you discover his name is Scott McMahon, he's Scottish, and you talk awhile.  And he tells you the most marvelous story ever ... in his (something like) Billy Connelly accent, confusing you a little because he's serious and the story is true.  He let's you photograph him as he sings.  You buy his cd.

And don't you love it when you order a small glass of the house red wine and discover it's quite a full glass, and that the wine is good.

Don't you love it when you find a million bookshops, secondhand too, just as you decide that the directions you so laboriously noted down, are too difficult to follow.

... when you find the perfect book for Miss 11.  So good that you begin reading it as you eat your pasta at the lovely restaurant that, while out of your price range really, is a great place to cheer yourself up on a grey and rainy autumn day in London.  And knowing, simply knowing, that you and Miss 11 have many many hours of skype reading pleasure ahead ... 500+ pages, no less.

Note: she talked me into reading her 3 chapters last night.  I couldn't resist.

Don't you love it when you work out how to reach the place you'd like to head to for those weekly meetings with New Zealanders.  Although, in the end, that knowledge is for future reference, on a day when you haven't walked your feet into a constant throbbing ache like you just did now, here in the unfamiliar heart of London town.

Don't you love it when you manage to navigate the London Underground, weaving in and out and all over the place, alone.

...  and when you find the National Portrait Gallery near Trafalgar Square, realise it's free, and walk the last of your feet off, exploring exquisite portraits of old heroes and heroines, and people you'd never heard of. 


And the deep pleasure in realising you can afford that bottle of water in the Gallery restaurant, after discovering a thirst that makes you feel you have just spent 2 days walking in a desert.

Don't you love it, really love it, when you realise you are free to take photographs in the National Gallery.

And there was that other golden moment too, when I understood that no one would miss me at the Ngati Ranana meeting, and so I found a train heading my way and got a seat, despite it being rush hour.

Don't you love it, when everything is new and kind of scary sometimes, but you end up finding Sublime out here in this city where you never imagined you might live. 

And arriving 'home', to a warm house, where your truly kind host has cooked up a big feed for dinner, with dessert.  It's warm there and the company is good.

Don't you love it when you realise, sometimes, that day ... it was good one.

The images ... Scott McMahon, and the London Eye.


Portrait Photography - as it should be

A friend posted the following story on my Facebook wall yesterday. It confirmed what I have always thought about portrait photography ... the photographer oftentimes photographs the relationship between themselves and their client. 

It's about mutual trust and respect but it's also about what the subject allows to be known of themselves ... the story he or she tells, the glimpses we are allowed.  That's why I prefer to take an hour or two with a portrait session.  I love to enter an environment that makes them comfortable.  I love if we have time to chat, to get to know one another in a relaxed situation.  It doesn't take long usually.

In this experiment the photographers all captured something of the person their subject presented himself as. I thought it the perfect illustration of how portrait photography should be.