Its Halloween today peeps and here in London that is a big f**ing deal. And since im a massive festivity junkie im going half in today and all in tomorrow for our party.
Half in in my world means spider tights and full on goth look. On my way in to work there was a little girl that screaming ‘look dad, spiders’ and laughing. The dad looked slightly ashamed, I loved it. Kids are awesome.
My goth girl Halloween outfit. Ill do some serious business in this getup.
Im not the only one doing Halloween in this country, this is one of the fancy houses on my way in to work. I hope there are some kids in that house loving getting their garden turned into a haunted house for the day.
Love Halloween, except for Christmas this is my favorite holiday. Its like getting the chance to lajv my bestest fantasy books. Win.
Thursday and you all know what that means – one more day to Friday! Im extra excited about this weekend since we are throwing our Halloween party and im currently busy making music lists, shopping lists and party time line lists. I like lists.
Tomorrow night we will carve pumpkins and try to get olivers outfit in order. Im hoping for some cute trick and treaters to ring the door so that I can hand out some candy.
Yesterday walking to London on my way to M’s. Its getting dark now. M and me were talking about how boredom and under stimulation triggers my depressions and how I need my energy high and lows. Im almost bi polar in how I throw myself from one to the other and since i stopped partying as much I need to find something to release my energy highs. Mission for next year – find my energy release.
Oliver took me and his sister to yet another private view of one of his friends. My life is filled of free drinks and well kept ladies in their late 40’s eying up art. In 15 years (and shit loads of money) that will be me.
We saw George Butler at the Romanian Cultural Institute. He draws from real life and his images are amazing. (You would love them dad).These were from Romanian village life and my favourites are all the craggy old men wih wrinkles enough to tell a thousands stories.
A beer bottle and a cart driven by oxens. Yes please.
The twinkle in this mans eye wants me want to take his hand and dance in an old barn while he tells me stories about being young and in love.
Oliver’s art ‘Im pinching my beard and staring intently’ look. Have I seen that one a couple of times in my life. Its often paired with the slowest foot movements in the world and some ‘ I need to create art’ sighing.
Even better were the little stories connected to each drawing. I want to go traveling and hang with turkeys in some village somewhere.
A married couple. Almost like the red trouser brigade couple in that room looking down their noses but being impressed when one image had been bought by the prince. (im being a bit unfair, people were actually really nice and i got refill on my bubbles.)
My favorite the fiddler. This man looks so sweet and happy. It makes my heart ache in a good way. That is the kind of art you should have at home.
Here is a portrait Oliver took of him in his studio.
When I went into the little shop at Petersham on Sunday and realised the Christmas baubles were being unwrapped I died a little. Full on Hollywood teenage movie swoon style. Making London my home Im trying to create my own special places as strong as the ones I have in Sweden and Petersham is turning to one of those. Especially around Christmas (and that’s not easy my friends, how do you compete with Skansen or Rosendahl?)
So, I turned each little Christmas hanging one over again and again and tried to visualize it in my tree. Garlic or egg plant no but I did find a couple of things I can see next to my Elsa Beskow baubles from last year.
A silver bunny, a sparkly swallow, a little owl and a bat (I secretly love the bat he most. Thats the vampire lover in me. And rebel. Whats more sacred than a Christmas tree?).
Miranda had also been Christmas shopping and since she doesnt have a tree she happily adds to ours (great having someone loving interior design constantly shopping for your flat) and added these to our bauble collection. Love the bling but might be a bit big for the tree so might have the exist in sole majesty somewhere. Its Fornum and mason baby so its deserve space.
Mum and Dad have also asked what i want when they come over so i have a feeling my house will be even more Christmass-y this year. Yes, there is space for that. If you squeeze a little.
I came home to something very close to chaos yesterday. Or to be honest, it was chaos. In the living room art was being created. Gabby had set up a mini studio to photograph stones at the same time as Oliver and Miranda was arguing about her new web page he was helping her with.
Did I hear Monday anyone?
Proper art in the making. My hope is that in 50 years when the art canon of the early 21st century is being summarized I’ll see myself as a little, tiny part in the background having been there when magic happen.
Things cant be done half arsed. Hence gigantic lights in our living room.
and Gabby hiding under a big blanket talking to me about what i really want in life. Its oddly comforting when the person you talk to is hiding and focusing on stones.
If chaos in the living room was not enough the cupboard in the kitchen broke as well and Ol had to run off for a rescue mission. In his head torch. Of course.
This is Gabby laughing at Olivers head torch. I hear her. Finally someone that find my boyfriend as entertaining as I do.
I was very fascinated by the whole process and sat curled up on the only free space on the sofa trying to keep away from kitchen chaos and embrace living room chaos. It helped that Miranda made sausage and fennel pasta and Gabby and me talked about her projects.
Given the awesomeness of Oliver in a head torch even arty photographers like Gabby feel the need to keep that for the world to see.
Brother and sister working away on their matching laptops (the picture is intentionally blurry, Miranda hates popping up on my blog so ill just make sure you cant see her face. Sneaky)
Oliver and me took our dog and headed to Richmond yesterday. Ive been longing to go for a couple of weeks, its my London version of Djurgarden, so we left the house early (well) and went for a day walking around.
Oliver practical as always, here strapping Wools poo bag to his back pack. Not sure what to think about that so lets say nothing.
It was moody but warm and not that much people in the park so we felt we had it to ourselves.
Oliver tried to take arty pictures but Woolly is as impatient as me and kept running up to bark at oliver when he was boring at took pictures.
Other than that he was pretty well occupied being on a hunting mission running around like crazy.
After walking for hours it was time for a water break for the dog and for us to head down to Petersham.
We had some of their lovely, but very expensive, lunch and cakes. After lunch I went for a quick look in the little shop.
and ended up spending a good half an hour in there. They had pulled out the Christmas decorations…
Even Oliver understood that this is Very Important and I needed my time to carefully choose what little beauties would come with me home.
There was a lot of dog decorations but none of skinny little lurchers so, not interested.
This little guys was pretty cute, imagine that being a little grey woolly with a red bow. One can dream.
They even had egg plants, garlics and peas in a pod for decorations. Everything goes in this crazy country.
Went for the second one of Olivers bday dinners (since i gave him a dinner at The Ledbuy we have that one to end the bday dinner tour this year). We went to spanish influences restaurant Moro at Exmouth market. Yum, is all I have to tell you.
Olivers alcohol free cocktail. Not only do you eat with your eyes, you drink as well.
and long discussions on Ebola, Russia and all those other very political and current affairs that these guys discuss when they meet (and yes, some talks on Ruperts women of course)
I had a pumpkin soup with chilli butter for starter. Yes, it was as excellent as it sounds.
and lamb that melted in my mouth for main. Dont you worry, I had dessert as well. Cheese. Pretty bursting at the seams when we got home.
I talked a lot to M yesterday about my need for a fantasy world. How I am constantly dreaming of or trying to flee off to that world that is a little bit better than the real world.
I love fantasy books, Ive always been fascinated by fairytales, my partying have always been with the idea that ‘anything can happen’ – hoping for late night unexpected parties with new friends , I love masquerades and Christmas is my favourite time a year since its all a made up, prettified version of my life.
The problem with this is that the real world doesnt cut it. After a party, a dip into that fantasy world, there is always a come down when I have to try and re adjust to my life again. After Burning Man, the ultimate fantasy, it was really hard for me to come back. But if I dont look for those experiences my life feel flat. I need them to feel alive, to feel like it all has meaning.
This knife edge balance make it easy for me to end up at war with myself. I want to chase the happiness the dream gives me but I also want to be happy with what i have. I want to be both those parts of me and for them to live in harmony but that’s where its easy to go wrong.
A big part of my issues lies in a constant inner fight between different wants and because they weigh equally I cant take decision, there is no right and wrong. I think parts of it is because these equally strong 2 parts of me – the one that wants to live in that dream and the one that tries to appreciate the real world. Before I can get them to work together it will be hard for me to find that balance im so desperately looking for.