Saturday morning was a ride in my local mini-cab to Holborn; the city area. The address was a pub. Upon arrival, on time I may add, the mini-cab driver looked back at me when I was paying and said: "You're going to the pub at this time of morning? You must be thirsty lady!"
"Oh yes. I'm attending the AA there actually! A hopeless alcoholic!" I said in a dry tone.
The mini-cab driver seemed so surprised at my remark that he looked at me in surprise, without uttering another word.
I laughed and continued: "No. Actually, I'm taking a writing course above the pub."
"AAaahh." He seemed relieved at my answer.
It was my fourth writing day course in the last year and I felt so much more confident than before.
The last time I was anxious but this time, I was excited.
To sadly admit to my shopaholic addiction, during the last 15 minutes of lunch break, I went outside for some air, saw some coffee shops in the road adjacent to the corner pub and got pulled automatically that way. I passed by a jewellery shop and got drawn to the red earrings in that window too.
'Shall I go in... I know that means trouble. I should simply continue on walking' were the thoughts passing my mind and... oops! Before I knew it, I had entered the consumer mode.
"Hello, can I try those red earrings in the window?" I went on to ask the lady behind the desk in the trendy boutique.
Maggie, a middle-aged elegant lady, the owner of this tucked away shop and I got chatting while I tried on other pieces of jewellery. Do I ever stop chatting people up? It sure doesn't look like it.
"How bad am I? In the middle of a writing course and I end up shopping during the short break!" I said as I looked at Maggie's bemused face.
The earrings had to be purchased, I had been looking for a red pair for ages! I fooled myself once more.
During the rest of the afternoon in the 'classroom', I came up with, what I thought would be a great story for a movie. Coming to a cinema near you. No no... Just kidding. The subject I picked was a young girl in Kabul, trying to flee her family and hometown as the Taliban were looking for her.
Saturday evening's garden party, due to the usually mistaken weather forecast, had changed completely to the opposite of what was hoped for; as in sunny and warm was now cloudy and cold! Hence it turned into a warm indoor gathering of close friends and most of my family.
It gave way to another early night in and a rendezvous at midday, on Sunday with Risha and Kristel to visit the Chelsea Art London fair.
The sun was forcing its way out of the clouds and the temperature was rising through the morning. British weather is and has always been a major topic of conversation due to obvious reasons.
We met at the entrance of the white tent and immediately set to see the works of art on exhibition.
There was a stack of cups and saucers neatly placed on top of each other, from the ground to a height taller than me which moved in a slight wave motion with the steps of passers-by. It was held up by a thin metal pole in the middle, not visual.
"It's like a human spirit," said the lady at the stand, "it can be broken... but then mended."She continued: "They are pieced together with care, precision, delicacy and patience but never exist quite as before. The cracks remain and become an integral part of them."
How meaningful is that?
Through forgiveness, we can put matters aside and allow positive thoughts to conquer negativity.
I always heard that a shattered heart, a broken one is not easy to mend. But simply said it can be broken but it can also be mended; a refreshing outlook. They are pieced together delicately and of course, with each experience, there will be change and shall not be quite as before but that's just fine. It is a good thing to learn and hopefully let go of the grudges and keep the memory in a chip at the side of the mind, as a bookmark. So the cracks remain and the learning becomes part of an 'experience' and 'learning'. Wisdom.
Another piece that diverted my attention was bright and colourful; the 'Graffiti Lips', a hand-painted cut-out steel of a large pair of lips by Gerstein.
There were many paintings which diverted our attention.
"Isn't it amazing how the pictures talk to you and attract you towards them?" Were Kristel's observations.
"It's as the movement of the brush calls you, it draws you into the picture like a magnetic field." I agreed.
"Did you know that apparently, my name means the hair, the brushstroke," Risha informed us.
"How appropriate," I said to my painter friend. "You are so talented, darling."
Our three pairs of eyes seemed directed towards the various paintings of a cute (lady's) buttocks which the artist Boyarde began to explain, the idea started on a holiday with a girlfriend on a beach, where she had asked her friend whether she could experiment with taking a photo of her bum while sunbathing on the beach, with a tiny bikini on.
She was quoted to say: "I love empowering the female body, embracing sexuality as well as sexiness, caressing the male gaze whilst perhaps controlling it. This stems from my own insecurities and desires and enables me to live through my images of beautiful powerful women."
She sure didn't seem to have insecurities about me while she explained her work.
My favourite was what I would call 'The Tiger bum".
We left the fair for a walk in the private gardens close to Risha's home and sat on a bench, allowing the blaze of that warm autumn sun to mellow our moods.
Risha's friend who had joined us on the bench suddenly noticed: "Here comes Juliana, the fencing teacher."
My eyes shone with a radar alert at hearing the words 'fencing teacher'. It was another passion I had since childhood, watching the Erol Flynn black and white movies of swordsmanship.
"Hellooooo,"I said looking straight at Juliana approaching us. "I just heard you are a fencing teacher. I've always wanted to have a go. From a very young age. Can we come to your classes?"
Juliana, a sweet and friendly girl of about thirty was too kind, she said as she stood close to our bench: "That's what I like to hear. Would you like to begin this week?"
"This week is impossible but how about next week?" I offered.
"Fine. I shall send you an email confirming the date and you can pass it on to Risha and Kristel," Juliana was enthusiastic.
"The Three (Charlie's) Angels turned musketeers," I added.
Time for bed... Dodo.
My mamma and sis Hala is arriving tomorrow. Brilliant.
My last thoughts are... Curves are definitely in and I shall make the most of that!
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