A small thing

This is just a small thing, but heading down towards the city center this evening, I accidently walked up this ramp (I accidently walk a lot of places here) and I found myself walking down a sort of fortress wall...  I suppose the medieval demarcations of original Canterbury. And it felt so special to be strolling down this elevated stone wall with little lookout nooks built in, while traffic and buses soared past on the pavement below. Other people used the walkway too, just carrying groceries, going out to eat... but I felt like I discovered it anyway.

Canterbury Cathedral

I saw the Cathedral... There in the town center, it just sucked us in like a planet. All the beautiful things in the world are mere moons, pale reflections, of that place's beauty. How did they build that?!

And tomorrow after class I am hopping on a bus bound for London then Wales! Eeeee!

Dear Cecilia,

Canterbury is such a mix. My first morning in the main city center, surrounded by medieval and Tudor townhouses, I thought I heard horse hooves on the cobble stones behind me, but it was just the rolling wheels of a suitcase: another tourist passing. Huma's family gets the Hangover on TV but amazes at M&M's, a rare candy for London. Meanwhile a white haired gentleman in a three piece suit strolls out of McDonalds... juxtapositions like that abound.

Similarly, I spend my day time waking slowly, reading, contemplating time and space, and finding footpaths in the woods. While at night, the campus hosts tons of bar parties for freshmen (freshers) and foreign exchange students so that we all can meet and jive before classes begin next week. Suddenly metaphysical reflections are tossed in the "rubbish bin" and its all "Do I look cute?" and "Is he going to kiss me?" and I am thrown back into some pubescent state of mind.

What can I say about it as a whole? There are too many disjointed pieces for a summation. I'm thankful to be here, and sad that its only for one term. I can't say that I miss home yet. But it's only been a week that I've been away, so I suspect I will have many phases.

Take care, Woman.

Reach for the stars,

SJ

Canterbury Peeks

town street, less bustle than others

Another Tennessee transplant moseying along

In front of the cathedral, haven't gone in yet

Most precious angel baby

Back at Kent, the view from the library. Canterbury way itty-bitty down below

Buckingham Palace and the National Gallery

My last night in London. Huma and I weaved through thick trees in the park near Buckingham Palace. When we stopped at the lit up gates, the stone balconies, and the hundreds of tiny windows, I couldn't help but imagine The BFG stooping there with Sophie in his ear. Huma took my hand in the cold and whispered, "It's not bad, hey?" It's not bad, y'all.

Before our palace treck we lingered at The National Gallery. Here are some of my favorite paintings from the visit:

Surprise! By Henri Roussou.

I love the way the tiger stripe lines are repeated in the diagonal leaves, and even, if you look closely, in the faint brushstrokes of the rain. I am reminded of Elaine Scarry's book that merges aesthetics and ethics, On Beauty. In it, she uses the example of the palm frond and radial line-making as an artists way of replicating beauty. I think Roussou likewise replicates the tiger's beauty into all the facets of the canvas environment.

Long Grass with Butterflies by Vincent Van Gogh. 

Huma says the butterflies depicted in this spiky, disturbed pastoral-- moth like and gray--  are the only common type in England. Even in real life they look like paint dabs.

 

Whistlejacket.
The name of the Arabian. In person, his eyes look electrically alive.

Louvre Under Snow.
Something about looking at snowscapes makes me feel oddly warm.
This one is what heaven must be.

P.S. It's move in and "Freshers Week" at Kent University... aka lots of pub crawls OMG WTF W/E, but seriously, wish me courage!

First Day, Before Sleep

In Huma's house near Stratford, three tube rides and a black curvy cab to get here from Heathrow airport. The policeman on the plane helped with my bag, I thought too large to fit. Home made Pakistani food. Lemon tarts at a fresh air market. The street performer HEY I'M SNAP BOOGIE AND I'M FROM THE US... BOSTON! The women here have purple tints to their grayed perms, but Huma swears she doesn't notice. Visa sponsors an amusement park under the London Eye-- Wonderworld which I think, but can't verify, does burlesque versions of Shakespeare. Titillating Henry V. And all around the ferris wheel, buildings old and new swivel up. London peeks at me from around the corners, both snooty and childish at once, standing knee deep it's own dirty bath water, the River Thames.

An inscription:
There are two things scarce matched in the Universe the Sun in Heaven and the Thames on Earth

--Sir Walter Raleigh

The lemon tart is the sun. Huma would like to note that "It lit'raly is luminous"

Macaroons: chocolate, pistachio, raspberry, banana, and hazelnut

The most beautiful hostess