I live in a flat in central London with two other American girls, Elaine and Rachael. I am attending the University of Westminster and am taking Arts and Society (I get to go study all the old art and cathedrals!), Photography, and Creative Writing. I only have classes on Thursdays and Fridays too! So aka, get ready for epic travels Europe!!!
I went to Hillsong London this past Sunday as well. It was fantastic. The worship was awesome. The message was applicable. The people were so friendly and welcoming. Me being me, I was freaking out about life and such prior to the service. And God, being God, ordained the message to be titled, "Chill out, God's got something up His sleeve." Okay, God. You got me again.
Today has been my favorite day in London by far though. I don't even know where to begin to describe it! After going to see my advisor and getting my schedule changed, I walked onto the street and just started moseying around the streets of London. I had no destination. No map. Just my eyes and ears and a camera to guide the way. There is something so magical about London, especially at night. There is this feeling in the air that some great adventure is always about to take place. Some wonderful mystery of life is about to be revealed, only to open up more questions and wondrous thoughts. There is a magic and marvel to the city that I can't put my finger on, but leaves me in awe. So the day was already starting on a good note with no plans and only excitement on the horizon.
After about an hour of wandering, I passed this old book store. It had £1
books for sale. And these just weren't ordinary books. Some books were from as far back as 1877. One of the books I bought was from
1927 and had this lovely note written inside. It was addressed to a wife from a husband for their anniversary. It was so wonderful getting to look at all these old books and seeing the different letters and inscriptions inside. Books provide an escape to another world within the pages, hidden within each word, but holding these books that had been passed through hands of loved ones and lovers alike, I felt a whole new world hidden with the bindings and brown pages. Not only did the words itself tell a story unlike any other, the physical display of the book did as well. From the torn pages, to the coffee stained marks, to the love letters and signatures branded into the page, into the soul of another. These books contained much more than a fictional story, but a history and a life all their own.
I found another book that was more recent as well. This one was super unique and unlike any I had
ever seen. It came in a box. Inside the box, a bunch of loose leaf pages were placed lightly. The "introduction" says this:
"Presented in a box, the loose leaf novel is 150 unnumbered pages, each consisting of a strand of self-sufficient narrative which, when 'shuffled' by the reader, forms the story. Most often, it is the previous reader who has decided the order you read it in, as the instinct not to manipulate the 'deck' is almost overwhelming. There is nothing as disconcerting as the sensation of holding a loose sheaf of papers, with no number, no chapter, with a hundred and fifty beginnings and a hundred and forty-nine endings."
You can shuffle the pages in any which order and still understand the book completely! There are 146 different endings! Who even thinks of that!?! Such a cool idea. So excited to read it.
After the small shop, I wandered around some more and ended up at Bloomsbury Park. I sat on a bench and journaled for a while, enjoying the nice sunny day. Soon after journaling, an old man, probably around 70 years of age or so, sat down next to me on the bench and began eating a sandwich while working a crossword. I've been yearning to talk to locals, find out why they love this city. What keeps them here. What keeps them enthralled.
So I asked him, "How are you today, sir?"
And so our conversation began. We talked for close to two hours I believe. He asked about Texas. I asked about his passed wife and how they met. He asked what I was studying. I asked what he did. He told me what he loved of London, what he hated of London. And how to "look above the eye level. Look towards the stars. You'll see history up there in the markings of the walls and of the trees and of the birds and of the sky." He told me about his wife and how she was a fashion designer. He told me about his paintings and how water color was his favorite medium. He showed me where Virginia Woolf's flat was when she lived in London and many other authors and other famous historical figures.
Knowing my loves of books and writings, he showed me a hidden alley way that led to a quant square that had a couple of coffee shops, bakeries, and a lovely bookstore. In the far back corner was his own personal studio. I went in and he showed me many of his paintings. (one of which the Queen herself had asked for him to paint for her, I might add). His paintings were so lovely! We continued to talk some more, but before departing, he handed me his card and told me, "to stop by anytime you are in the area."
Albany Wiseman.
I hope I get to go see him again soon.
If everyday is filled with this much adventure, I am going to love life in London.
Over and Out.
