london streets

for some reason i was much attracted to the streets of the city as i traveled. it is not always so, i usually do not take kindly to the london mob, but i aimed for distraction, anonymity and company.

the latter i found in melle paradis. we spent a few dainty hours together, visiting john soane's house on lincoln's inn fields and munching on a late lunch on a west smithfield park bench. 

chiswick, hammersmith, richmond and hampstead got themselves scrutinized some. and of course, lucky enough to be getting such marvellous spring weather. every day. 
as the time of leaving nears, i promise myself to do so on a morning. yet each time i leave for home, i travel late afternoon. i blame it on lingering, but it's not practical. how to kill last hours then while luggage is being left at the hotel's reception desk, at owner's risk?

you catch bus 168 into hampstead. you have a good long walk, a good long think about impracticalities, and a good long cuppa coffee and a proper scone. in the sun. of course. next,

you sit on john keat's steel bench in his former garden, listening to the nightingale's chirpy song, imaging the man himself rested his weary buttocks upon the cool steel once upon not so long ago. hoping his genius rubs off some on your lonesome traveler's blues,

well. one can dream. i take you to the london streets

a room of one's own

a student's room. a narrow stead. a view. the metropole showing off all splendour inside and out, i kept to outdoors myself. my room, really, could be found underneath sunsmitten daylight and moonlit nights. here are hampton court palace and grounds and kew gardens for you. my take, naturally. {clicking and adding the word show behind the last flickr slash in url space enables slideshow. i know. it's a mouth full! still worth it. ☺}

this weather

ever tried posting from a pad? don't. ever. meanwhile, the hood.

roll in it

traveling is a good thing, is it not? 

even when you don't feel like it. but you do it, 

while you're good at it

so after weeks of all sorts, i'm actually {almost} off

by that i mean, across a country border. nothing fancy, somewhere familiar

i'll pop in later, shall i? 

drawing | nest

in the past week i considered nests and how this word for bird's homes carries different meanings. my mind and vision raced, from classics and the mindful weighing of soft toned {imaginary} eggs to considering dollops of mistletoe crowded in tree crowns, offering a bird's nest silhouette from the ground up. in the end the image which spoke to me predominantly was the feeling of loss, the point on which emotions tangle up and nest in noxious liaisons. reinforced by heedful nightly hours on the internet i give you the memory of a branch, with the promise of december inside. rose's nesting theme, this weekend. river update.

drawing | water

beyond this house lies a shallow creek. over its bed runs clear water. ducks sometimes fly in and over the water. its bank keeps winter sheep at bay. even when you don't see the water, you can hear it, in the back of the house's garden. patrice's drawing challenge of water this weekend. can i just say, i deeply appreciate your marks of empathy. they learn me, time and again, each and every one of us, at intervals, sails troubled waters. i do am infinitely grateful for your sensibilities. i carry thee, in my ♥

corner view ≈ in the distance

see what happens? words happen. jane's corner view, francesca's hosting, kelleyn's theme

drawing | connect

sometimes in order to connect we must abort. i've been watching MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA, off and on, expecting my son to walk into the room. but he will not. he's done a stupid, stupid thing, and he will pay for it. is paying for it now. why this movie? because i needed distraction and disconnection from familiarity, so i can pick up again. why share this? because i wish not to lie nor pretend. 
{also, i have no drawing at the ready.☻} kristen's challenge of connections here

corner view ≈ travel

i like to think i'm adventurous. from home. as with travel. one of the oldest labels on this blog has been travel, even more so on my previous blog (in flemish). i have a soft spot for the commodity. i do actually believe travel starts at home and awaits us afresh, every ordinary day. so when harry dan stanton mused upon his line "... just an ordinary trip down the grocery store was full of adventure PARIS, TEXAS, i so knew what he meant. 

i am definitely not your reckless traveler, too old for that. i've just as much traveled the world by visiting corner viewer's homesteads as i've literally moved about. and if nearby london is the only place i can go to from now on, i shall not complain. as a matter of fact... jane's corner view, francesca's hosting, theresa's theme. 

blue, green and black prairie

sun and sky held us under a sunday spell. and isn't photography the sweetest liar, offering images, omitting sound. bird's songs drowned in petrol-laden four wheel drives, motor cycle vehicles and a quad too many. 't was almost an involuntary day at the races, while my lens stubbornly zoomed in on desolate fields and ramshackle vistas and ephemera. all i saw was the prairie.