Kerry Lemon - That Remarkable Artist I Met, London.

I met Kerry Lemon a couple of weeks ago and, since then, I've struggled to write of that meeting. 

Why?

Well, she was so remarkable that I have had no idea where to begin ...

There's an interview that gives you a sense of her.  But that's complicated, due to the fact that she's being interviewed by another truly remarkable being ... Elizabeth Duvier. 

I met Elizabeth via her blog - Mystic Vixen. Over the years her writing and photographs were that place where I wandered when I needed beauty and intelligence, and some soul-soothing too.

And so, it has to said, Elizabeth is also remarkable, for many reasons but perhaps SQUAM is her biggest, most beautiful and inspirational thing.  Well, that and her beautiful writing, and art.

Their conversation follows ... however there is more.

The meeting happened like this ... Elizabeth put out the call, writing to her friends, that I was new to the UK.  Kerry Lemon replied, saying she was madly busy with work but how about meeting up on 'this date'? 

I said 'Sure!'  

And eventually that date came round.  I headed for London, and met up with the delightful woman you see in the photograph at the start of this post.  I took photographs along the way, and managed to capture Kerry caught up in the awe and wonder she felt when viewing the work of one of her favourite installation artists, Rebecca Louise Law. 

Kerry is short and cute. Spending time with her, I decided, is a little like spending time with a very alive fairy.  One who sprinkles fairy dust where ever she goes, engaging all those she meets in delicious conversations that leave people smiling.

But more than that.  She's talented, driven, self-disciplined, intelligent, and entirely inspirational.  And wise.  So very wise.

Do you see what I mean?  How to write of this Kerry Lemon ... how to share something of her remarkableness.  It's difficult.

We met at Waterloo Station, under the big clock, and we clicked.  Just like that.  I felt like I'd known her forever.

But she's like that ...

She was taking me to the Columbia Road Flower Market, Sunday morning magic.  I'd never heard of it. 

What a sensory overload.  Meeting Kerry Lemon and visiting the Flower Market too. 

Yes, I promise, it's impossible not to adore her.  I imagine that's clear.

I could have followed her around for weeks.  I wanted to try and capture something of her fairy-dusting all those she met while she wandered.

It was a good day with a remarkable soul. 

And that's about as clear as I'm able to get on Ms Kerry Lemon.

Another Country, Another Hairdresser ...

I'm 10kgs lighter, and finally my hair has been dealt with in this new UK life.  I feel like I'm putting my Self back together.  It's been a really long time since I last visited a hairdresser.  Actually, she came to my place.

And it turns out I adore Vikki - my brilliant English hairdresser.  She listens, she sympathises, she cuts only the amount of hair this Kiwi client can bear to have cut (less than I expected actually).  And she understood about colour too ... I mean, she understood my ideas about what I liked.

She's an absolute treasure, and I'm so grateful to Becky for recommending her to me.

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:-)

Merci Marcie's Cafe ...

I never manage to photograph the mille feuille before I accidentally eat them, whenever I pop into Merci Marcie's lovely cafe, even when I take one home ... to photograph it. 

I keep trying ... really.  Once a week probably:-)  And so, I turned my camera elsewhere on today's visit.

And now that I have a Nespresso machine.  Finally. 

Now, for the first time in 6 months, I am enjoying the breakfast I best love ... an espresso, toast, butter and jam. 

Well ... now I can no longer have coffee while out and wandering because my mornings are all about 2 espresso before and with breakfast.

My new drink, for out there, is ginger and lemon tea, with honey.  I have it in the evenings too.  I had a wicked coughing cold for two weeks.  I was fairly sure my lungs were going pop out one night.  That night I didn't sleep one single wink ... but they didn't, and I am left with this big love for the tea that got me through.

I'm okay here in Surrey.  Meeting marvelous people, making a tiny new home beautiful, setting up to teach photography workshops again, to photograph pets, to photograph family homes, and portraits.   Maybe an event or two.

It's unfolding, and I have espresso in my mornings again.  Life is quite beautiful.

The Most Perfect Tree-Seat, Surrey ...

It is perfect, isn't it?  I've been eyeing it since beginning with my 20 minute walks into the village.

It's quite high, and I'm not sure I could reach it without an undignified struggle.  But once there, especially in summer, there's moss that surely makes for a most comfortable seat. 

The only option is to recline, legs stretched out in front, back supported in a most divine way ... maybe that's even a book-reading arm-support branch.

Sadly though, it's on the edge of a busy little country road here in Surrey.  I suspect the police would be called to check up on my reasons for being there or ... the fire brigade would be called, to rescue that mad Kiwi woman stuck up a tree. 

But still, I don't think I have ever seen a more perfect tree-seat in my life.