Friendsgiving update

Turkey's done, but the blog will have to wait until this weekend. Check back either Sunday or Monday. Enjoy your weekend!

It's Dark and Cold

Music of the Day: Typhoon

London video of the Day: Restless Nights, Paul Richardson

Apparently it's shaping up to be the coldest winter in sixty years. Some of the headlines are a bit over the top, but, either way, we're bracing ourselves. It may get colder yet, but the sun situation has settled in; it's now dark by 4-4:30 in the afternoon. It's a double edged sword, really - at least in the run-up to Christmas. I'm sure I'll be tired of the darkness by January or February, but - for the moment - it's nice to be able to see Christmas lights by 5pm. It makes this city - one that kinda feels 'Christmasy' year-round - feel even more festive.

I can say that because there's no Thanksgiving here. Folks started decorating at the beginning of the month. The neighbors directly outside our window have hung enough lights on their balcony to cause a rise in their monthly electric bill. You won't find me complaining, though. They're colorful lights, not those boring, "tasteful" all-white lights.

Of course, Kenz and I are still planning on Thanksgiving, er, Friendsgiving. The turkey has been ordered, several new pots and pans arrived in the mail yesterday, and Kara and Jerry will be landing on Monday (with bags full of various food ingredients we can't get here in London - canned pumpkin being one).

Kara was proud to show off the fact that she'd done our Thanksgiving shopping already.

We had eighteen last year; this time we're projecting nineteen. It wasn't until this week that we began to remember just how stressful the event was. I guess the holidays are like that for a lot of people: all you remember is the good stuff - you forget all the cleaning, prepping, shopping, cooking, and nagging. At the end of the day, it's about the good stuff; my guess is that if all we remembered was the stressful stuff, none of us would do it! For now, at least, I still don't have that impending sense of dread. I'm looking forward to the coming week: long tourist days with Kara and Jerry and late night cooking with McKenzie. Friendsgiving is scheduled for Friday night; fingers crossed the bird fits in the oven.

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There has been a dearth of interesting events this week. Kenz and I are like the proverbial ships passing in the night. I'm up before the sun rises and she works well into the night, long after I've fallen asleep. I guess our ships pass at about lunchtime - it's the only time of day the two of us can spare a few moments to catch up, coordinate calendars, and share a joke. We've hunkered down, knowing that life will be like this for the next six months or so. It's a sprint to the finish line for both of us.

It's so cold in the house, Kenz works with several layers on...

...no matter where she is in the house.

Our kitchen sink sprung a leak. Thursday's highlight was having the plumbers over. They'll be returning with the proper part tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed everything will get fixed before Friendsgiving. 

Owen dropped by for dinner this week. He and I did our best to distract Kenz from her schoolwork.

Dribbling a tennis ball.

We finally finished the last bits of Patti's care package - the second bag of Chicago Mix popcorn.

It was a bittersweet event. Of course, we'll only have to wait two more weeks before we can buy it ourselves in Knoxville.

 Random Photo Dismount:

Polish food at Elephant & Castle

Charlie & Jason, winter bearding in Oregon.

Walworth Road

I saw the fire tuba man again this week. He's a personal favorite.

That's it for this week. Thanks for reading. Have a great weekend!

Kenz's mid-year show

Song of the Day: When We Fall In, Sean Hayes


Having attended a residential summer camp for eighteen years has left me with a fairly widespread network of friends. Most of the time I'm the one to drop in on them, but every now and again it's the other way 'round. Last week, I got an email from one of those friends - Caleb - who happened to be in London for a few days. We made plans to catch up over a meal.

It had been nearly eight years since the two of us had seen each other, but I'd followed his adventures on his blog (on of the inspirations for this one, in fact); you can read it here. I encourage those of you who enjoy reading blogs to check his out. He spent eighteen months traveling the world - and by traveling the world I mean traveling the world.

We met for linner on Friday afternoon. His friend, Sarah, came along. She lives in Hackney and is, simply, one of those people you're immediately comfortable with (same as Caleb). We inundated her with camp stories as camp people are wont to do. I pity the non-camp person in these situations, but it has yet to stop me from reciting years' worth of anecdotes over an hourlong dinner.

Caleb and I shared our last summer as campers endeavoring to complete a specific capstone-type camp experience. We spent 4 weeks in the woods, hiking, mountain biking, rock climbing, and kayaking. That much time spent out in the woods - with only eight other fourteen year-olds and two counsellors - leaves indelible memories.

With the world traveler (I failed to get a picture with Sarah as well, but she may pop up in the future). 

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I made it out to Brick Lane on Saturday afternoon. Celia had met up with some longtime friends of hers to attend an arts & crafts fair; Owen and I tagged along. 

Lunch Break!

It's cold enough these days that people often wear jackets inside. The open window didn't help, naturally.

After lunch, the ladies returned for more arts & crafts as Owen and I mindlessly strolled up and down Brick Lane, talking trash and people watching. Pretty standard for the two of us.

We hadn't eaten anything with the ladies, so we eventually wound up getting some Ethiopian (him) and Thai (me) food just before the food market closed.

These three guys appeared...tired.

OEtheOG, a dude.

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Random Photo Break:

I sprained both my wrists on Tuesday and spent the entire week in cold packs and braces.

Kenz, again, did all the cooking for her injured husband. 

I saw a man walking his pet ferret. 

I watched a witch melt in the rain.

No one on Instagram could identify this dead bird on the sidewalk.

Darren finally met the subject of his arm tattoo.

Yet another picture of those three tired, tired men along Brick Lane.

MOMA laughing

Making Thanksgiving plans with the sis.

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Kenz has spent the past ten or so days preparing for an art show. The third year drawing students are featuring their most recent work at a big corporate building in the city of London (for those of you needing a refresher course on the difference between London and the city of London, click here). Apparently there's a law that taxes buildings with unused space, so (owners of) these buildings partner up with arts organizations in order to 'donate' their unused space for exhibitions. It appears to be a symbiotic relationship. 

Kenz isn't anywhere near being finished with her rope chair, but she had enough material to show something at this exhibition. She built the first prototype in order to test measurements, dimensions, and angles. She also has about one third the amount of rope she's planning on using. They had a critique today, but, again, I'm not the best representative for the underlying themes of her work. Either way, I was excited to see what she'd been working on.

She sent me a few pictures earlier in the week.

She's using sisal rope which, after a week of handling without gloves, has left her with the equivalent of 1,000 miniature paper cuts ("and horrible fingernails!" - Kenz).

She'd originally planned on a 'rope stool'...

...but abandoned it later in the week (staged photo). 

Owen met me for the private viewing last night. He and I quickly decided it may be best to view the pieces separately as the two of us are like a pair of kids in a church service. Of course, neither of us would purposefully laugh at any of the pieces, but putting the two of us together in any sort of 'formal' context is a guaranteed giggle fest. After about half an hour, our nerves had calmed and we were able to look at stuff together - we even got into a few conversations with Kenz's classmates about their work.

The entrance to the room.

Poorly captured panorama

Kenz's friend, Ty, did a performance piece.

Ragna had several pieces littered around the room - the plaster on the floor is hers - she's standing to the left (middle).

Kenz has been keeping a list since we arrived in London. The list is populated with words that she's had to look up in her research, each one dated by month and year. Any time she ran into a word that sent her to the dictionary, she noted it on this list. I'd known that she was doing this, but it's not something one really remembers, you know? You think, oh, that's cool, and then forget about it.

Well, part of Kenz's exhibition was this list, separated by month and year, with each word that has lead up to the word that gave her the inspiration for her rope chair (sans definitions). The word, Apotropaic, was highlighted near the bottom of the list. A common definition of apotropaic is having the ability to avert evil influences. In the context of her work, some apotropaic tradition uses various types of knots in order to prevent bad things from happening, etc. Thus, knotted rope chair. You get the idea.

Poor panorama of the list.

I've been to each of Kenz's shows since we've moved here. This was, by far, the most enjoyable. She and her classmates have very obviously grown throughout the past three years. Not only is the work more deliberate, but their discussions about it are much more pointed. There's much less hedging and vacillating when describing a piece. It's cool to see Kenz grow more comfortable in her work. She, Owen, and I stood at her chair, brainstorming and discussing the plans for how she's actually going to pull it off. It won't be a small feat. I left there looking forward to her final show this May.

Kenz and Owen inspecting her larger piece (you can see the 'list' hanging from the wall on the left side of the photo).

Kenz takes a moment respite, to Owen's delight. (No, this is not how her final chair will look - it'll look like the plywood on the right - but she went ahead and used the rope anyway).

"Surprisingly comfortable" - OEtheOG

We met up with Celia for some dinner afterward. The four of us spent nearly two hours sharing food and laughter. It was a fantastic end to what was already an enjoyable evening.

That's it for this week. Thanks for reading. Have a great weekend!

Theatre, disc golf, and a fire.

Song of the Day: Chill in the Air, Amos Lee

Kenz and I went to see The Drowned Man last weekend, produced by a unique theatre company called Punchdrunk. The company’s shows are all similar in approach: a “promenade performance” wherein each audience member wears a mask, isn’t allowed to speak, and is given free reign to the entire venue. I say venue because this isn’t a proscenium theatre; The Drowned Man takes place in a 200,000 sq. foot warehouse with five levels, thirty actors, and an overwhelming amount of prop-detailed rooms.

Considering the fact that this blog is aimed at generic updates to friends and family – and not a theatre review site – I’ll hold off on an in-depth explanation of all the ins and outs (if you’re interested, you can read several reviews online). 

I will say, though, that Kenz and I didn’t really know what to expect. In fact, neither of us was sure that the other would be interested in going. We’d both had strong recommendations from friends, independent of each other, yet didn’t bring it up until last week. I’d booked the tickets and sent Kenz this long, mildly apologetic email explaining the show, saying, “if you don’t want to go, I totally understand and will find someone else to go with me.” She came home later that day saying she thought I wouldn’t be interested in it and was excited that we had tickets.

We arrived on Saturday night, mildly scared, each doing our best to simply “go with the flow.” To be fair, she was stoked; I was the scared one. The impression I’d had was that this may be closer to a haunted house than an actual performance…and the first twenty minutes didn’t do much to calm my fears. We wound up getting separated: one of the actors grabbed my hand, pulled me into a separate room, locked the door behind us, took me on a wildly freaky stroll through the midnight-dark bowels of the building, all while telling me some horrifying story about death, resulting in a crescendo that very nearly had me shriek, and then dumped me out of a door in an entirely different section of the building than we started. I didn’t find Kenz again until three hours later, once the show had ended.

We spent the remainder of the night in wonder, telling each other stories of all the sorts of things each of us experienced during our time in the show, quickly realizing that neither of us had the same experience. The showrunners suggest that each participant will only experience about 30% of what the show has to offer in one go; that estimation isn’t far from the truth. Some folks spent the entire night following actors as they raced from one place to another, watching various stories unfold as the night went on. Others spent their time walking from one room to another, examining the detailed props and settings – all of which piece together to add to the overall story. Kenz and I both admitted that we’d focus on one activity for a while, think we should be doing the other thing, do that for a while, and then return to our original activity for a period of time. By the end of the three hours, I’d just found my stride, thinking that I was maybe an hour into the experience. 

[Side note: when I say examine detailed props, I mean you can open any drawer of any desk to read handwritten letters, lie in beds and examine books and photos on bedside tables, sneak through "hidden" passageways between rooms, etc. This is truly free reign. The budget, not actually disclosed, has been said to rival a small-budget movie. I believe it.]

The next morning, we booked more tickets without hesitation. We agreed that it was easily one of the most exciting, imaginative experiences we’d ever had in a theatre. We’ll return this Sunday.

I snuck a picture while in the bathroom.

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I was up and at 'em at 4:45 the next morning, prepped and ready to compete in the first leg of this year's Hyzer Cup. Thirty two of us Croydon Disc Golf Club members travelled two hours outside of London to compete against the Quarry Park Rangers. As mentioned before, this is a Ryder Cup style match play tournament that pits the two largest disc golf clubs in the UK against each other. The competition is in its sixth year and Croydon has lost all but the first. It was time for us to have a strong showing on our away leg. 

Riding in Rich's Bongo.

On our way out of London, we saw the Veteran Car run (London to Brighton - see more here).

Croydon getting amped up (team captain, Sam, in the blue jacket and corduroy flatcap). 

It was cold.

Quarry Park is a private course, owned by the UK's greatest disc golf player. He has sculptures littering the course.

Practice rounds

Right on the river Avon, he also has some swans.

I wound up playing the best two rounds of disc golf I've had since moving here, earning two wins for Croydon. We finished the day with five points on QP, meaning we've got hope to win back the trophy in January when they come to us.

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Random photo break:

There's a runner's group that meets at 9am on Saturday mornings. No, I'm not about to join.

My buddy Josh went to the BoSox victory parade.

DeLaney entered his school's mustache competition (to his wife's chagrin).

Kenz continues to win breakfast.

Our local casino (not nearly as glamorous as Vegas [not that Vegas is glamorous, which should tell you something about this casino]).

Facetime with Kelly & Chris!

Facetime with Leanne, MacKenzie, and Maggie!

Joey & his devil cats.

Lil Lucy is growing up! 

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People keep gasping whenever I mention the fact that Kenz is in her third year. And she's still feeling the pressure. Between applications, a dissertation, and two impending shows, she's really got a lot on her plate. This week, however, she had a moment of fresh air. Well, I say fresh air; really it was smoky air. What she thought was a fire drill turned out to be the real thing. 

Everyone had to evacuate the building.

She didn't find out who started it.

But people apparently discussed it on the stairs of the building.

She's spending today in a welding workshop. She sent me a picture this morning, surprised that she'd be wearing a helmet today.

Reminiscent of Flashdance?

She has a show next week in the lobby of some large corporate building. Since she's not yet begun work on her rope chair, she's made what she calls a "rope stool," giggling to herself at the use of stool. She's looking forward to the image of this thing coiled up as furniture right next to what she imagines will be quite expensive corporate furniture. One could use the term juxtaposition if one was so inclined...

I say she's not yet begun work on her rope chair, but that's not entirely true. I snuck into her sketchbook to snap a few pictures of her most recent plans. She'll be making a wooden structure to use as a frame, wrapping the resin-dipped rope around it, in order to give the rope shape as it hardens. 

Her throwaway sketches are better than anything I could hope to do as a final product. Yeesh. 

That's it for this week. Thanks for reading. Have a great weekend!