You may be forgiven for thinking I have neglected you, but you are wrong, I have been merely squirrelling away my rather personal thoughts and emotions in a 'Secret Diary of Adrian Mole' fashion. The words appearing from fingertip to screen contain elements of my heart and mind that were too raw, too precious, too exposing to reveal at such time. Perhaps one day they will re-emerge and those going through heartbreak, displacement, life change will be able to relate, or it may be that upon reflection they appear to be the ramblings of a complete lunatic. I have however kept the blog going in spirit, my notes file is rammed to the brim with possible content. I have consciously recorded conversations with my friends on notable movements in the lipstick industry, the fashion world and just about everything I have stumbled upon since my return to the capital city.
For the quandary I face is the direction I take now I'm home, the mind boggles at the possibilities, I am no longer in either Dalston or St Werburghs. London Fields my new place of residence feels so contrived all of the fashion none of the edge, it's true I now live on a council estate, people are getting shot left right and centre, police helicopters overhead, but it's nothing compared to the gritty, smelly, noisy, crack dealing, people pissing outside your front door, house leaning establishment I once dwelled in. There are birds singing, a grassed walkway (sans cars) that plays entrance to my house, a courtyard garden, re-landscaped to accommodate fresh lawn, foxgloves, poppies, honeysuckle and lupins, there is even a palm tree that faces our front door.
(artists impression)Yet with the change of scenery comes it's own adjustments, the silverfish that have suddenly appeared and set up camp in my room, under my bed to be precise, the window that lets the light in and yet never gets the sun, pah they are all minor hindrances.
silverfish aren't they cute.I guess the real bug bare that I'm slowly working up to is that now I'm back, actually back, I'll have to get off my arse and do something, oh buggar!
