While I'm aware, & perhaps a little weary, of writing about the same thoughts & themes on this little ol' blog, & potentially boring its (albeit miniature) readership, it also means that its quite representative of my head from day to day. While we, as a species, often like to think of ourselves as occupying a myriad range of thoughts & feelings of an afternoon, the reality is such that a handful of the same concerns will repetitively circle for hours, sometimes days, occasionally weeks on end. There are a few things that have taken up residence in my head for what feels like a long time now - looking ahead of starting another degree (eased slightly by my Masters place being confirmed at Goldsmiths from September, hooray!), my increasing sense of wanderlust & desire to travel (only increased by the occupational hazard of being surrounded by travel guides daily) & more wide-ranging thoughts on how it is that I can find fulfilment & keep a hold of it long term.
Working on an article on the topic most lunchtimes, I realise increasingly the importance I place on food & the process of preparing a meal at the end of the day, rhythmically chopping vegetables & contentedly allowing a sauce to simmer, my constant curiosity for new books to read & places to see is also contributing to my happiness. My most concrete & consistent source of fulfilment is, however, the relationship that I have had with my boyfriend of over two years now, one of total devotion, reliance & comfort. While I regularly remind myself of how lucky I am to be the recipient of such love, sometimes, amongst long working hours, feeling under the weather & the stresses of family life, all of which the two of us have confronted in various forms over the last two weeks, it is surprisingly easy to neglect one another. This year Valentine's Day was particularly well timed as it represented a chance, the rituals of gift giving & card writing aside, to spend some treasured time together & remember some of our favourite things to share - namely burgers, art & a double duvet.
Anticipating the afternoon I had had planned a week or so in advance, the grey skies & smattering of rain on my bedroom window did nothing to dampen (sorry!) my good mood on Valentines morning, pulling on slippers & a sweatshirt in readiness for preparing breakfast, waiting for the oven to warm while I poured glasses of cold orange juice, mugs of steaming hot tea (for me, one sugar, plenty of milk) & coffee for him (strong, no sugar), chopped handfuls of blueberries, strawberries & banana for fruit salad & climbed the stairs to balance bowls precariously amongst pillows. Finally I pulled the all-butter croissants from out of the oven & onto a plate alongside pots of raspberry jam & crunchy peanut butter, soon filling the bed with flaky crumbs & full tummies.
Keen to avoid the rain that prevailed, the two of us dressed in layers, both, incidentally, bedecked in Battersea bargains, me soon remembering that I don't own anything with a hood & settling for a trusty bobble hat instead, & planned our route into the centre of town to Leicester Square & the branch of 'Byron' that awaited us. Something of a tradition for the two of us, often frequenting the Islington branch, partly for their brioche buns & eclectic interiors, mostly for their unrivalled fresh mayonnaise, we hadn't visited 'Byron' for a long time & figured we were overdue a visit to our regular order of a couple of orders of fries, a 'Byron' burger for me, a veggie burger for Andrew (extra gherkins please!) with a couple of glasses of fresh lemonade to wash it down. This particular branch, less shabby chic & more American diner than its northern-ly counterpart, did not disappoint & we were soon reduced to communicating exclusively in 'mmm's & 'aaah's as soon as lunch was served. I also figure that absolutely noone harnesses the ability to look anything other than monstrous while eating a burger so the meal also doubled as the ultimate test of our love. I think we held up alright.
Swiping the sides of our plate with fingertips & the edges of our lips with tongues, it was across the rain soaked road that we were headed &, as I belated revealed to the boy, to collect our tickets for David Bailey's 'Stardust' at the 'National Portrait Gallery'. Walking hand in hand between canvases of an afternoon is doubtless one of our favourite things to do together but we hadn't been to the 'Portrait Gallery' since the day that I, at long last, handed in my undergraduate portfolio & we came to see Man Ray's 'Portraits' followed by a pint at 'The Chandos' opposite.
This Bailey exhibit had been much anticipated, a huge & varied retrospective, personally curated by the photographer who has shot just about every star & most especially those of my favourite era, The Swinging Sixties. Andrew & I spent almost two hours taking in nearly two hundred of Bailey's best, from The Rolling Stones to Vivienne Westwood, Johnny Depp to Salvador Dali, his predominantly black & white prints deeply pigmented, capturing that furrowed brow or chiselled cheekbone perfectly. It was also, however, fascinating to experience the sheer, & hitherto unknown, breadth of Bailey's studies from supermodels to indigenous Australians, the old fashioned social clubs of the East End to a whole room full of portraits of his wife Catherine.
My only criticism would be, English student as I am, that I could have done with more words to contextualise the photographs, perhaps a comment from the subject on Bailey's technique or even a biographical note on some of the more obscure artists & fashionistas captured on those walls. Aside from this niggle, I was very contented leaving the gallery having spent the day in such good company & it was through the soggy, surreal streets of Soho & Chinatown that we weaved towards the tube & home for chocolate fondue, cava & 'Midnight in Paris' with my Valentine.
Organising this day trip made me feel more determined to do dates more often, even if it's just a drink at our local boozer of an evening - some kind of escape from the every day once in a while & maybe even inspiration for a blog post or two...!
I hope that you were left with similarly warm feelings from your February fourteenth, here's to more of them.
Speak soon - O.
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