Man! It’s been a little while again since I’ve been able to visit this space. Between colds, work and more late nights then we can count, I’ve been a little snowed under.
But, the weekend is here and I couldn’t be more excited!
Here’s to the weekend, long may it last.
Mr. Michie met me last night in town after work and we went on a walking adventure: Lumiere London. A selection of international artists lit up London and it was magical!
These are just a few of my shots. It was freezing outside, but the atmosphere was just incredible! They had shut down Regent’s Street so you could easily manoeuvre around, which was fantastic. Seeing Westminster Abbey lit up like that was amazing; it was surreal. I’ve had a few opportunities to work on projection projects like this, which made me appreciate what these artists have done even more. It was a really fun date night in London.
“… And these children
that you spit on
as they try to change their worlds
are immune to your consultations.
They’re quite aware
of what they’re going through…”
Those are the lyrics staring you in the face at the beginning of The Breakfast Club, one of the greatest movies ever made and the beginning of my journey, down the rabbit hole, into the world of David Bowie.
His new record, Blackstar, was one of our albums of choice this weekend. So, it was a surreal moment for me yesterday morning, standing in one of the industrial coolers in the school kitchen, holding a packet of ginger biscuits and talking with the head of catering that I learned of David Bowie’s death. I almost dropped the biscuits. How could we have spent the weekend listening to him and discussing his music and now he was gone?
With stars that shine so bright, we feel connected to them – as if we know them. And when we lose them it is like a part of ourselves is lost with them. Their music takes you right back to a car ride on the way to the beach, with the wind blowing through your hair; to the smell of low country pines in the air; to the last day of school when you buckled up and squealed out of the parking lot; to that oh so sweet first kiss; to laying in bed on a rainy day with the music turned up to eleven.
David Bowie, Ziggy Stardust, The Thin White Duke, however you choose to remember him, there can be no doubt that he was such a varied talent. The music he wrote, the people he collaborated with, his acting roles – he was a North Star to those of us who are different, who live life on the outskirts, who fly our ‘freak-flags’ with pride. His lyrics spoke volumes.
I don’t have a singular favourite song as so many of his records have been influential in my life; from teenage angst to the need to break free and find my own adventures. I remember growing up, watching him as the Goblin King in Labyrinth and was totally scared to death of him as a kid, yet strangely drawn to him at the same time. He had that quality. He was an enigmatic figure, who will be missed. Yet we are blessed – his music, like Lazarus, rises up and lives on.
{Image: Craig & Karl}
Do you know that scene in Adventures in Babysitting, where they end up in a night club and once on stage are told by the band that “No one leaves this place, without singing the blues!”? That is how I feel today, I’ve got the blues, the Monday morning blues.
I have so much fun during my weekends, I just want it to keep going! I’m sure I’m not alone in this feeling?
Mr. Michie was sick this weekend, so we were quiet. There was music, candles, movies, homemade chicken soup and fresh bread. We stayed snuggled under blankets and rested. After such a hectic first week back to school, it was a wonderful way to spend two days together, even though Mr Michie was under the weather.
Enjoying the art of everyday living is something that the Danes have completely figured out. Mr. Michie and I feel like Denmark is a second home. It is a magical place. Heading out to find breakfast in the morning, you will find coffee shops with candles lit in their windows and blankets laid over the outside seating to keep yourself warm. Everything is cozy. And the Danes have a special word for that: Hygge (pronounced hue-gah). There is not an exact translation. It is more about a feeling; the ritual that comes from taking joy in the simple pleasure of everyday living; in making the ordinary – extraordinary. We try to do this at home. From the moment we wake-up at the weekends, candles are lit, music is on, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeates the house.
I feel that making things cozy becomes even more precious to me when the sun is late to rise and early to bed. I love the Winter, but I like it on my own terms. I want to be able to go for walks; to bake cookies and bread; to stay indoors and be cozy. What I don’t like is leaving for work in the dark and journeying home in the dark. However, following our “Hygge Mantra” makes for a happier household and definitely fends off some of the Monday morning blues, no matter how dark and cold it is.
I gave Mr. Michie an early birthday present tonight and took him to see Star Wars:The Force Awakens. I booked our tickets a few weeks ago, we were really lucky as we got the last two seats on sale. We ate popcorn, we held hands and we re-lived our childhood. J.J. Abrams truly rekindled the magic of the original trilogy. We LOVED it! And, that is all I shall write as I don’t want to spoil it for anyone else.
{Mark Hamill and Carrie Fisher 1977 // 2015 – FOUND}
Quiet. Quiet is how I feel.
I have lost a loved one this festive season and it has made me simply crave quiet, to crave peace. Although, both are in short supply at the moment. I’ve not visited here, because I’ve had little to say. I’ve been lighting my candles, listening to music, baking bread, cooking, reading; just being.
It’s made me step back from the edge of the surging river, that is the holiday season. I love Christmas, it makes me sad that it is such a rush. There is too much hustle and bustle. When do we stop to take in the beauty of the season around us? To enjoy family and friends? Everything seems to be moving more and more to a harried finish line, where once crossed, we come out the other side dazed, dishevelled and confused, wondering what happened to Christmas in the first place?
Christmas is about being with the people you love, cherishing the time you have and being present in the moment. And that is exactly what I plan to do – to relish the quiet moments; to enjoy the noise of jovial voices and laughter; to find myself amongst all of it whole again.
The memories you make with those that you love are so very important. For it is memories that you are left with.
It’s been a week since I last posted here. First, it was because school was keeping me busy, but since Friday it’s been for different reasons.
I awoke on Saturday morning to Mr. Michie sharing what had happened in Paris with me and I cried. Since then, I’ve been glued to every shred of information I can read or watch about the #ParisAttacks.
I have started and restarted this post many times. Each time I have felt like I am scrambling in the dark – searching for the right words; desperately trying to process this terrible event.
I believe that events such as these encourage us to reflect, and while blogging can be a great way to do just that, I don’t like to use this space as a political platform. I have read other blogs over the past few days that have either been flippant about what has happened, or extremely visceral, voicing their tears and thoughts. I couldn’t be either, I only felt silent and heavy hearted.
I first visited Paris when I was 16 and fell in love. I knew that I would return and I did! I spent a wonderful long weekend there with my sister when I was in my early 20s. We walked the streets, visited galleries, found the greatest fondue restaurant and ate our weight in pastry.
I honeymooned with Mr. Michie in Paris; we drank wine and walked along the river. It is a place we have visited many times, throughout the seasons. We have favourite stores, favourite restaurants, favourite places to stroll or just sit. A visit to Angelina’s for hot chocolate is always a must. For a while, Paris became a second home to us. It still is.
To see the violence that was thrust upon this magical place made me sick. Sick to my very core.
But Paris is resilient. It always has been.
As I’ve walked around London this week, it is clear that things have changed. Everyone is on edge. People stop and watch police cars passing by; they listen to the sirens – jerked out of autopilot; they jump at sounds and sights that no one normally pays attention too. People are on edge, but they, like me, are trying to keep with their daily lives. To go on as if nothing has changed.
Even though we may all be a little more wary, a little more cautious, we will continue to live our lives. We will continue to go out, to shop, to laugh, to see friends, to enjoy time with those we hold most dear. We will appreciate the little things even more. We will hug a little tighter, kiss a little longer, and savour every single word breathed from the lips of those we love.
We will not be made to cower; our voices will not be silenced. For there is no where we should fear to tread.
We appreciate the value of life; the value of living that life to the full. And we will continue to look for the good in people, to not let evil shake our faith in humanity, for that will mean the terrorists have won.
Je suis Paris! Vive le France!
This has been quite a week so far and we’re only at Wednesday. There’s just so much to say but for now, I’ll just let Charlton Heston speak for me.
The candles are lit. The twinkle lights are glowing. The light has faded and we’ve been enveloped into ebony. There’s music on and as of late that means one thing: A Boy Named Charlie Brown.
I’ve always been a Charles Schulz girl and my feelings for Vince Guaraldi are no different. What a talent! Next to A Charlie Brown Christmas, this is my most loved Guaraldi album. His rendition of Fly Me To Moon, I could listen to non-stop.
I feel like I should be in a nightclub in Manhattan in the 60’s, throwing back cocktails, dressed to the nines and watching this trio just groove into the wee small hours of the morning.
Well, I spoke too soon yesterday! Just as I was walking into the grocery store, they were setting up a giant Halloween display that included rows and rows of munchkins. So, of course one of those munchkins jumped off the shelf and into my cart. He knew he needed to come home to the cottage with me.
Happy Friday!