I think about my blog every day. I think about writing for it every day. A day becomes a week becomes a month. I’m at once restless and lethargic, and how do I come to terms with that?
I’m not exactly sure.
My mother always told me, Janice, you think too much. She was right. What I think most about is other people. Who are they? What are they doing? Why don’t I know them? Where do they live? What do they eat? What are their lives when they are not in front of me, inside my head? Yes, all of that and more.
The short version of the story is I’m not getting out much and I’m not seeing that many people. Lockdowns combined with a deteriorating knee keep me indoors and away from things I normally love to do. I try to think about people who have written whole books while being (what I consider) prisoners of home and even bed. My hat’s off to them. Yes, the stories are still in my head but I lack the motivation. I’ve heard that inspiration is something being taken in, and motivation is about movement – a driving force. Â Motivation is more closely connected to external stimuli, while inspiration is based on the internal stimuli. I’d say that right now I do feel inspired, but not really motivated. So if I’m not getting out that much, external stimuli are dampened, and the thoughts stay inside my head. So let’s get them out a bit.
I say I haven’t been out much, but I’m blessed by living in an area that is infinitely walkable (even now, and even though that might be limited) and infinitely fascinating. Those who feel at one with nature have a hard time understanding that. In nature I understand the peace and beauty, but as large as the vista might be, it’s harder for me to examine. Where are the people? Maybe I don’t want to face the person who is there – me. Hmm.
Right now ‘me’ is a person who can barely walk. My knee has given up and more than a few minutes on it becomes unbearably painful. Except I do bear it, and don’t want to. I’m doing my best. If I don’t try, then I’m missing out on so many things. Throughout the pandemic, I’ve managed what I could. Now my radius is shrinking and I’ll still do what I can. So let’s look at what I’ve managed to do and think positive and look ahead.
Not in order but a smattering of life chez moi at the moment.
Tesco Morning Lane. In just one year the world has changed. Shopping is a new experience and sometimes it feels like it was always like this, especially when I see people looking like they are used to it.
I haven’t been to Old Street or Moorfields since lockdown, and probably for quite a while before that. I’ve had plans to get on a bus and walk around to see what street art has popped up. Somehow, I’d not made it there. This trip wasn’t going to achieve that either. It was dark, cool and windy, and the object of the journey was to keep Krish company on his latest visit to Moorfields Eye Hospital. He’s been a patient since July 2019 when his sight started to be strange after an episode of shingles during June of last year. Let’s skip over that story for now!
His appointment wasn’t going to last long, we thought (it lasted a few hours) and Krish had noticed that a huge Stik mural had been revealed during some construction. I wanted to see that. So the plan was that I’d wander around a bit and meet him after he’d seen the doctor. We took the 55 bus which goes along Mare Street, down Hackney Road, and across Old Street – a twenty minute or so journey.
An Instagram user told me a bit about this wall art —
That this ‘Shoreditch Past Present Future’ mural will be obscured by the Art ‘Otel is beyond irony…..they made a huge deal about how they preserved the Banksy when the old Foundry building was demolished but there were many other significant pieces of art in there that the developers had no interest in…..
It was hidden by a giant advertisement hoarding but occasionally came back on view for a few days/week as the ads changed. The new hotel is circular but there is a second building going up adjacent to the mural – not a high rise but we should all make the most of the current full view of this art.
So I’m glad I went to photograph it. I went there first in case I ran out of time. The light was already fading on a fairly dull day. I considered trying my original plan to go down Rivington Street and perhaps Great Eastern or even to Curtain Road to see some ancestor stuff John had told me about. However, the dark was encroaching and I thought instead I should meander over towards the hospital and see what I could see over there.
I headed down Leonard Street to Tabernacle Street, named for Whitefield’s Tabernacle a former church at the corner. The first church on the site was a wooden building erected by followers of the evangelical preacher George Whitefield in 1741. This was replaced by a brick building in 1753, and rebuilt in stone over a century later in 1868.John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist church, preached a sermon “On the death of the Rev Mr George Whitefield” here.
A surprise around every corner in London – often several!
I was feeling a bit hungry and, as the sun went down, I was feeling the chill. I walked up City Road towards the hospital – through the large roundabout I’ve always thought was so ugly. On the corner of City Road and Old Street is a massive red stone building that I’ve not usually paid close attention to. Today I would. Continue reading “Moorfields and Old Street”
I had this little email conversation with my brother, John. He says he doesn’t have much anxiety about this crisis and, if it goes on another year he won’t mind too much. (Total paraphrase so forgive me, John.)
I can weather it, I know I can. However, John and I have very different circumstances. He lives in the Southern California suburbs, where pedestrians are few, houses are detached and at the end of their personal driveways, supermarkets are enormous barn-like affairs, his wife Liz sleeps into the mid morning while he is up with the lark for some alone time, they each have a car, and they live in a five bedroom house, with two bathrooms and two living rooms, and a front and back garden.
I think I could have less anxiety there, despite my surburbiphobia! Instead I live in a congested city where even in zone 2 I rarely see no one outside my window, on the top floor of a terraced house which houses four sets of tenants. There’s no access to the garden and the scrap of front yard is the entrance to the lower floor flat. There’s no car but several busy buses and trains. We have two rooms – the bedroom and living room and we are home all day together.
So, as the title says, wandering is mostly in my mind. And, yes, my mind wanders. Like the time I was in the streetcar in Toronto and looked up for a minute, completely confused about where I was and where I was going. Scared me. The doctor said, it happens. And it’s only rarely happened since.
My mind can also wander to all sorts of fabulous and frightening things. I’m switching from full doom to full ‘rosy outlook’ mode, but mostly settling in between – things are and will be different. That’s the way of the world. It’s just a bit more surreal than usual, that’s all.
But I do physically wander on the days I’m not worried so much about it. My friend Susanne has used #walkablecity #walkableneighbourhood on her Instagram account and I am really grateful that I can echo that sentiment. Continue reading “Wandering is mostly in my mind”
There are up days and there are down days. Days I have big hope and days I despair. The worst thing is fear, followed by lethargy, or maybe lethargy is the worst thing. I’ve had to face the dilemma of being an already fearful person in a genuinely fearful situation. Knowing others are in it too can be comforting but adds a layer of reality. Phobias are defined as fear out of proportion to the threat. So, yes, I find my phobic self reasserting itself more these days but ‘out of proportion’? Hmm, not sure.
I’ve heard that we agoraphobics have ‘an advantage.’ That’s because we’re already familiar with panic and the symptoms of generalised anxiety, but we’ve gathered an enormous toolkit of coping techniques that help us navigate and live our lives more fully. Well, yes and no. So I’m trying to push aside the ‘what if’ thinking and ride over the waves of fear and helplessness, because there are so many things I can still enjoy and experience. It’s just different now.
It’s Thursday and I haven’t been out since Sunday. On that day I was feeling wobbly but I went anyway. My phone and my camera were there to keep me company, and I wasn’t going very far. I did a bit more and a bit less than expected. I’d count that as a success.
My goal was to visit Gillett Square, Bradbury Street, Winchester Place and Marks and Spencer – a short itinerary on an increasingly warm day!
Bradbury Street was a bit of a bust since I’d forgotten that places were closed on a Sunday. With so many shuttered fronts, I wasn’t sure if they were closed for Sunday or closed for good. I’ll have to go back and find out. For some reason, despite living in Hackney for so long and just a very short walk from Kingsland Road, Dalston, we discovered Bradbury Street only about a year ago. It’s not hidden – it’s a step away from Dalston Kingsland Station and has its back to Gillett Square – but for some reason we hadn’t wandered along it.
Bradbury Street is a short – 110 metres long – street which is lined with restaurants either side. They’re all small and unpretentious, and only one is a chain – Honest Burgers. There’s more than a hint of the Caribbean here, and jazz, and doing your own thing. And I’ve never eaten here! I’ll come back to see what’s surviving soon, take more photos, and perhaps try the home made patty I’d seen advertised in one window a year or so ago.
I went in from Boleyn Road to Gillett Square. The square was created as part of a plan to develop the Bradbury and Gillett Street by Hackney Co-operative Development and others. Started in 1998, it opened in November 2006 as the first of 100 new public spaces for London.
If you cross Kingsland Road from Gillett Square, you hit Ridley Road Market. It’s not open on Sundays right now and is still on my list to look at more closely. However, my brother John had told me that on his Google Streetview explorations, he’d seen the Hip Hop Raised Me mural in Winchester Place. As soon as I saw it, I knew I’d seen it many times – it’s not on my Favourites List, but it’s a large piece off the main road.
John had also noticed Colveston Primary School. It’s on Colveston Crescent, just off Ridley Road. It’s described as ‘a close-knit and friendly one-form entry primary’ and it looks like a little village school. It has a focus on creative arts – music, drama, art and it’s housed in a grade II listed building – I’m still chasing what makes it so, although it’s obviously a remarkable building. The railings are especially noted online but I didn’t discover this until later so missed the point.
It isn’t easy to see the whole school in one go. From across the road I’d be able to get an interrupted view, with all the fencing and railings from the market, but there was no way through, so that will have to be another day – I hope next week.
What followed was a quick trip into the not-too-busy Marks and Spencer for fruit, vegetables and a pork pie! Nothing too exciting to report. I walked through the back streets to my bus stop and then home.
In the UK, Chancellor of the Exchequer Rishi Sunak came up with a scheme to help restaurants and encourage people to ‘dine in.’ It’s called Eat Out to Help Out. On any Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday during August you can eat in a restaurant for 50% off to a maximum of £10 a person. We’ve talked about taking advantage of this and waver between being very interested and not interested at all. I’m still not sure we will do it. I suspect not but the month has just begun.
On Sunday morning, Krish brought up the idea of getting on a bus and going somewhere. He said maybe it would be quiet on the buses and we could wander around The City on a peaceful day. The City is dead out of office hours as a rule but surely now it would be even deader. I thought about it for a little while and then said yes, let’s go.
We took the 242, which goes along Kingsland Road, then turns down Commercial Street at Shoreditch High Street Station. We sailed past a very splendid new Dan Kitchener geisha art piece but stayed on until we went one more stop, where the crowd – if there is one – will have dissipated. And out we got.
We walked back a little bit to Christ Church, where I’d seen a cattle trough. I’ve taken lots of photos of the church but this time it was the trough and drinking fountain that caught my eye. The church itself was the first of three that Hawksmoor built between 1714-1729 and for me, it’s the landmark that dominates the area.
The trough and fountain are lovely. They were put there by the Metropolitan Drinking Fountain and Cattle Trough Association, set up in London during the 19th century to provide free drinking water.
We decided to get off the main street to head towards The Gherkin. I’ve walked along Toynbee Street many times but never past Middlesex Street. We saw very few people, but there were a few stalls set up at the top near Commercial Street.