Easter Eggs

I’m still recovering from an intense Easter Sunday so I’m not sure if what I will write in my post will make any sense. I guess I shouldn’t even try… Yesterday I went over to MvdM. and W.’s to spend the day there: eating, drinking, playing silly games and having fun. It’s been a while since I’ve had tears of laughter watching a guy doing a lap dance and totally cracking me up. It’s been a while since I took the piss out of friends because they couldn’t stand losing a silly game[s]. I came home at 06.45 this morning feeling totally knackered and ready to catch up on some sleep. After six hours of rest I still feel like I’m not on this planet so I haven’t done much today which is ok I guess. I’m just gonna have a slow day/evening and relax a bit.

MvdM. and W. cooked a lovely dinner yesterday and for the third time in my life I had lamb, which to some might seem as something not worth mentioning, but since this is the country of ‘lamb dinners’, admitting to anyone British, that you don’t like lamb is like committing an offence. So when MvdM. mentioned it the other day, I cautiously tried to explain to him that it’s not really one of my favourite dishes [shank], but I was willing to give it a try. I don’t like the strong flavour and the only two times I had it, the meat was either barbecued [chops] or minced [shish kebab]. Anything that is slightly gamey puts me off but I tried and I must say, I kind of liked it, although I probably would never order it at a restaurant. I had a traditional Sunday roast and it was good but I’d rather watch those lambs being silly.

It’s weird but even though I had a great Easter I can’t shake off that feeling of realisation and feeling sad on days like these. I had a tough, long, four-days-weekend altogether so being able to spend time with friends was an extremely welcome distraction. I was confronted again with ghosts from the past and certain decisions had to be made that forced me to think about what happened last year. Time is running out and I can feel the pressure and tension building up. It’s freaky because on one hand I’m getting the progress I was looking for but on the other it seems to trigger a negative impatient spurt with the other party. All of a sudden decisions are made for me, or I’m forced to decide about matters that I can’t decide about until my life is reconstructed again. Reality starts hitting me hard and more often.

I can sense change, which is good, if only I can stay sane while all of this is going on putting more and more pressure on me. I noticed I no longer fight things and instead agree quietly without a word, just for the sake of it. I wonder how much one is supposed to literally lose in order to gain or win. Was it really all worth fighting for in the end? Tomorrow is exactly one year ago and if I look back all I can see are struggles: a rough sea with gales, force ten at least… How I wish to find my harbour and a beautiful calm sea where I can sit on a bench listening to the still life in front of me. How I long to have Easter breakfast accompanied by that one person who is closer to me than anyone else and yet so far away; I know he would hide eggs for me, just for me, because he wants me to be happy and be silly for a moment.

Perhaps next year…

Listening to the still life…

Magical Evening

This Thursday I will be visiting the world’s oldest and last surviving grand music hall called Wilton’s. A wonderful and magical place hidden in the centre of London near Tower Hill. John Wilton built the theatre behind his pub ‘The Prince of Denmark’ in 1858, later know as the Mahogany Bar. A sun-burner chandelier with 300 gas jets and 27000 cut crystals dominated a mirrored hall. The auditorium remained incredibly intact: the original cast iron ‘barley sugar’ pillars support a papier-mâché balcony under paper roses set in a vaulted roof. In Wilton’s day, 1500 people used to cram into the music hall to hear the top acts: artistes from the Covent Garden were lured over in full costume to perform late night arias.

Here, I will be attending The Soldier’s Tale by Stravinsky which was recommended to me by J. A music-theatre performance: a mix of drama, music, film and physical theatre. Presented by the world famous Academy of St Martin in the Fields, which joins forces with director Lawrence Evans and internationally acclaimed and highly versatile violinist, Anthony Marwood in a unique production of The Soldier’s Tale, a Faustian fable of a Soldier cruelly tricked into giving his soul to the devil. I’m really looking forward to this, I will bring my camera along *as usual* and will try to catch the perfect moment to share… I’ll be accompanied by Chris that evening and will be wearing my chocolate satin dress that I’ll have to finish tomorrow. I think it will blend in nicely with the magic of the evening… :)

© G. Allen, The Entrance

© G. Allen, The Auditorium

© Wilton’s, The Auditorium

© Wilton’s, The Auditorium