So you know how things go. You are flowing by with studies, work, friendships, relationships when something new gets introduced to your routine. It starts as an off beat recommendation, and whilst you’re not doing anything else that’s specifically central or significant in your life, you join in on the flow of this new thing in life.
Then weeks go by and despite hesitations because of other well established patterns in your life, you find yourself making more space for this new thing. Then you need to sense check, so you pull away, dismiss it, and there it goes it pops up again seeking your attention.
So you start thinking, what to do. Time invested means previous patterns are being challenged, smoked out, and you’re still unsure if it’s a fluke or will stick around for a while. And then more time goes by and it is still there. Sometimes it feels annoying, tiring, unbalanced, but you realise like with most things settling into a new job, relationship, friendship, hobby is an ongoing process of exploration.
And then the penny drops; your commitment to keep exploring is the juice of life, and as long as you don’t get stuck in a tunnel vision, the scheme of things will keep on evolving and merging with who you’ve become.
On the first chilly day of autumn, I walked out of the house for work to find my brain clicking into Camden cravings.
I’m not talking about the food options, the bashing vibes, the shopping or drinking ports.
That would be too much detail.
I’m talking about the warming feeling I get when I’m here.
In Camden Town, at sunset, on a crisp day. It feels like belonging, it feels like home.
I could climb under the cobble stones and sleep there for the night.
And wake up to crawl back up from beneath them, to see Camden in sunrise.
Walking through the waterways, up and down across the bridges I am confused as to what price you can place on which experience.
The Olympic stadium glares light in the distance, reflecting onto the waterways, drawing the eye over. There are street lights, yellow glare making seeing harder than it ought to be in the dark.
There is lighting and different shades, colours and intensities, warming up the night’s colouring from square box apartments paid for by the mill.
There are peeping john’s from dilapidated rooms upstairs from warehouse spaces.
The paradox is uncanny. Boxes upon boxes, with different vibration of electric energy lighting up the inside of the box, marking their position to the street below.
Dark chipped corners, with flaking paper glue adverts hanging off, contrasting the clean cut edges of the new apartments.
The most colourful and mesmerising visuals, the caked graffiti. Layers over layers, of spray paint. Different times of the day pushing backgrounds to fore, that shape and the separation from the other spaces, a rolling show of two dimensional characters and shapes.