the magic's all around you

I am a fast walker. I weave in and out of people, holding my breath through the cigarette smoke (I dream of a smoke-free world, how I dream...) silently cursing backs of the slow walkers, the lingerers and the lost. And when I get to my location, I wonder why my skin is tingly with warmth, my internal air-con system, activated.
And today, I wondered, for the very first time, if its ME that's walking too quickly, rather than THEM, too slow. Even days when I'm not on any schedule, I create one anyway, a time to be here, a time to be back, but for what purpose?
Maybe, its me that needs to S-L-O-W down.

Today, despite the endless rain, and the inky substance that fell down on me on the tube at 8am, staining my top, was moments of magic strung together like pearls through an ordinary day.
I did a shoot for Harpers Bazaar in the morning, and had the privilege of watching the dancers from the Rambert Dance company, moving like parts of the same body, as one. Sinewy and utterly graceful; mesmerizing.
Free makeup is one of the perks of this career, and if you know me, you know i love a freebie, but THIS, this was exceptional. I received the BEST foundation and concealer palette. EVER. I don't think i've ever been so excited about a new edition to my kit.
Thrilling!
A few precious moments were stolen with marineboy on his transit through London to the Middle East. Blissfully bitter sweet and worth every minute...
And here now, watching Gavin and Stacey and eating Godiva dark chocolate hearts, from a heart-shaped box, i finally, after weeks of buying it, only to flick through once and discard, see my name in Grazia magazine...page 64.

Dreamy...

A Beautiful Life

My friend, Rodney, is still in hospital, but doing better. His friend, Neda, set up a communal blog for his loved ones to post messages of love and support for him.
www.urwonderful.blogspot.com
It's so beautiful. We are SO beautiful.

love you, man

I just found out that my friend, Rodney was in a bad accident. The details are hazy, but my concern is certain. My thoughts and prayers go out to you, Rodney, and to your family. If i didn't know the strength you have within you, how amazing your own personal power is, i would be more worried. But still, a swift and full recovery, okay?

you gotta laugh

Taking the back streets to avoid the mess of folks on Oxford St, I walk straight into the latest work from Bansky, all new paint gleaming, large on the side of the building next to the post office. About 30 something pedestrians are gathered at the base of it, taking photos with their phones and cameras before it soon gets painted over and is lost forever. I join them in their documentation. Isn't that what photos mostly are anyway? Proof of something?

I am, in turns, warmed by the sun and chilled by the wind. If i sit where i'm sheltered and pop my big sunglasses on, i could almost think it's April. Oh, wait. It IS.

At the bus stop by Bond St tube, an old man, maybe East African, is blowing on a recorder for money. His wheelchair is wedged in between two shops, and his blue trousers are tucked over the stumps that were his legs. He blows in sets of 3,
' PEEP PEEP PEEEEEEEEEEP' (inhale)
PEEP PEEP PEEEEEEEEEEEEP' (inhale)
the same one squeaky note, knawing at you. It would be funny if it wasn't so sad.
If it wasn't for his no legs, i'm sure he wouldn't be making any money. Mind you, if it wasn't for his no legs, he wouldn't be sitting there.
He'd be standing.

The crazy guy at the back of the bus, has the other passengers trying to conceal the laughter that's wanting to burst forth from our faces.
Over and over, his gravelly weak voice sings,
'baby baby baby, baby baby baby, all you gotta do is caaaaall meeee!'
His hands in air guitar mode, a deep rumble of mirth every now and then as he delights in his made up lyrics.
Before he alights, he leans forward to the empty seat facing him, purses his lips, and kisses an invisible passenger 3 times. Love ya, he says.


At home, ravenous now, I stuff down a cheese, tomato and houmous sandwich. It's always SO good to be home. A song plays in my head...
...Baby baby baby,....


"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music"

well...?

Now...you KNOW i'm not religious...but don't you see an ANGEL there???

SVG stories...

Under the almond tree in my parents garden, my magic carpet spread out underneath me, still languishing over my Amy Bloom novel, i could not be more content. I have a whole lot of nothing to do, stretching waaaaay ahead of me....

I am laying on the beach, at Villa, waiting for the boat to come back and fetch me. My grand designs to come along for the diving trip, and lounge, book in hand, ipod in ears, whilst marine boy and the others dove down into the turquoise waters, had come to an abrupt standstill. The waves undulated, bobbing and dipping me, the most inconsiderate dance partner, back and forth, endless fluctuations. I clung to the sides of the boat, praying that if i stayed as still as a statue, if i didn't move one single muscle, that i could breathe through it, all the way to the shore. I couldn't. Ew. Ew. Ew.
And so here i am, on shore, where it is STILL. It starts to rain.
A massive crab sidles to the left of me. A freshly cracked out man, does crazy people kung fu with an imaginary opponent.
Where IS that boat?

My body is abuzz with a surplus twitchy energy. Music! i think, i need music! I attach the iPod to the speakers and start to twirl and jump around the large living room of our house. The high vaulted ceiling lends the most beautiful acoustics to the sound. I am soon joined by Nicole and Ollie, and i direct us in a loony dance competition. My smallest niece joins in, then my brother-in-law, marineboy, and my sister, and soon we are dancing in a circle all around the room, pied piper style, sweating hard on this warm evening in the Caribbean. Mum watches, amused. Dad grabs Lamby, Maia's stuffed toy, and holds him tight for quite a vigorous jig. I don't think Lamby will ever forget it. I know i never will.
The next morning, my calves are sore from jumping. What a brilliant night.


The sun sets on what has become our private beach. A lone gull hovers and dives, for his dinner. We watch his antics from our sunloungers, cocktail in hand, my scarf around me as the slight breeze of evening moves in. We are laughing, and then he is on his knees in the sand closer to me, and i am laughing through tears.

And i say.....YES.

just breathe...

Whenever i am stuck in the rain, stuck in traffic, or just simply, stuck, i will imagine myself, back here...
...take some deep breaths...
and let it all go...

mountain climbing

March has been dreamy. On the first day of the month, i was officially taken on by Mandy Coakley, the agency i have always and only wanted to be with, for the past year and a half. It culminates everything i've been working towards. But goals are funny things it seems. When your dream comes true, when something you have worked your ass off for, comes to fruition, you would expect joy, wouldn't you? Some sense of peace?
At least, that's what i expected. But the primary feelings i experienced, those first few days, were a stew of fear and worry, seasoned with confusion. I was inexplicably nauseous for days. I had reached the summit, only to look up and see an even taller mountain before me. And it was dizzying.

Today, a month later, i am feeling more worthy of my achievement, i am driven onwards and upwards, even more than before.

The game just stepped up...