on that one day in London

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The streets are bright and busy. The summer sun leaves shadows on the architecture, with buildings reflecting the rays before it begins to set at nine thirty in the evening. I cross Hyde Park Corner and decide to walk into the park instead of taking that bloody number ten bus down Kensington High street at rush hour. The skaters are out weaving their way on their roller blades down the path, mummies and nannies pushing their prams, people sitting out on the grass soaking in every inch of the rare sunshine we have been getting. The Serpentine glistens as the ducks flap their way across it. Should I keep walking? I stop for a 99 flake from a ice cream truck further down and feel like a little girl walking down through the park past Kensington Palace. I want to hold this moment forever. 

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Another summer day and I can’t wait to get out of this stuffy office as my desk piles up with purchase orders and invoices. I’m also tired from that long shift at the pub last night. Perhaps those two wind down large glasses of wine at one in the morning wasn’t a great idea. The back roads of Great Portland Street are lined with smokers and delivery vans as I walk towards Regents Park just for me to breathe in that ‘me’ time. A nice cigarette, my bacon and egg sambo and my music. Just for this hour. Thank goodness for this greenery in the middle of the city, an hour just to escape, an hour to pretend I am lying on the beach somewhere in the Mediterranean. Sleeves and trouser legs rolled up, as if my skin would brown with the London sunshine. Who was I kidding? But it felt good. And every person on their lunch break sitting on their own patch of green felt exactly the same way I did. 

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The streets are cold and misty, that crisp breeze gently wisps through my cardigan. Springtime tulips are coming out as I cross Brook Green park to catch my tube at Hammersmith station. The local Starbucks is packed but I stop for my chai soy latte, daydreaming while I watch people cross the broadway, each rushing to where they have to be. The pie shop next door whiffs its smell across the station. Should I stop for one? No time, have to get to class. Ah shit. I missed the train anyway. Bloody District line. Shouldn’t have gotten that latte.  

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My front door never felt so far away. It’s freezing. I bloody hate winter. Shit. I wore the wrong shoes. My toes feel like they are falling off. Fuck. I dropped my glove and now it is all wet. I shouldn't have taken them off on the tube. Dammit. I should have remembered to bring my umbrella to shield me from this pathetic excuse for snow. Why did I choose to live five blocks away from the tube station in the middle of Chiswisk? There aren’t even any buses to take me closer to my flat. Bloody Stanford Brook. Did I mention I hate winter? 

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That bottle of wine warms us up as we sit in Boheme Kitchen in the heart of Soho just before Christmas. V and I on our second bottle of some fabulous New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.  The cinnamon smell from the mulled wine hovers throughout and my cheeks are flushed from the warmth in the pub. Are the heaters turned on too high? Or perhaps its the wine? We walk out as the cold stops my breath for a minute. It’s sharp but kind as the wine circulates my blood. I watch my husband and V skip down Old Compton Road, arm in arm, like a pair of old friends when in fact they just met. This is what it’s all about. This is what London is. It’s as if I’ve literally frozen and life moves amazingly fast around me, with traces of light following everyones footsteps. This is my London and I’m in it. And then I run down the road to catch up as we walk through the doors of Bar Soho to grab ourselves vodka mojitos in the middle of a winter evening that I actually love.

london polaroids

above photos by ink & post

 Ah, London, how I miss you so....

Above photo from unknown source.

two years ago

Yesterday, two years ago, we left London. The pictures above were of our last walk 

around one of my favourite cities.

Yesterday, two years ago, I bid goodbye to the place I struggled to call home. It was

only when I left that I realised deep in my heart London really became my home. 

Yesterday, two years ago, I cried  and rejoiced, embracing change but also dreading it.

It seemed like two years ago was only yesterday.

And oh, how I miss it so.

march means the beginning of summer

Manila Summer.

1. Clear blue skies and constant sunshine that is too hot to sit out in at midday.
2. Getting into hot cars after sitting in the scorching parking lot.
3. Sun that beats down on your olive skin, browning and bringing you a summer glow in 10 minutes.
4. Reading books in your backyard.
5. Ice cold shandy with San Miguel.
6. Frizzy hair.
7. The smell of heat pounding on the tarmacked roads.
8.. Warm humid air that sits heavily around you and sweating even if sitting in front of the fan.
9. Beach. Ocean. Sand. if you have time to get away from the concrete jungle....
10. .... if not, there's always the pool and garden in the folks' backyard.

London Summer. 
(When it comes)

1. Deck chairs, picnics and ducks at Hyde Park.
2. Cool, non-humid breeze that touches your skin as you walk down the roads.
3. The inability to get brown while sitting in the park for a whole day or the hope to get colour on your  one hour lunch break.
4. Reading a book on a bench at the closest park.
5. Magners and ice or a shandy in the beer garden of a local pub.
6. People drinking out on the streets of central London.
7. Day trips to Brighton or Bournemouth just to see the ocean.
8. Notting Hill Carnival & music festivals.
9. Hot, sweaty people fighting for space on the tube where there is no ventilation or airconditioning & 58° buses. Makes you want to just walk.
10. Walks down the South Bank along the Thames.


As the date comes closer to my brother leaving for London, I crave to be heading there with him.
And as much as I love our tropical summers, I will always love London summers. This is when I miss it the most.

I always felt alive and free.

london dreaming

I had to write a list for a question on a friends blog on things I missed about London food. and became nostalgic.  In a place where food is known to be bland, my list was surprisingly long and easy to fill up.

Oh, I miss it, more than just the food. I really do.

My culinary "miss" list:

1.  Pork and leek sausages

2.  Tesco's Finest Angus Aberdeen Rib Eye steak and lots of other Tesco things. Oh, and Sainsbury's too!
3. Good sushi to go. Sometimes my friends and I would walk to the Japan Centre in Picadilly Circus to catch the 5pm 50% off sushie they were selling, which was still fresh, and in the summer we would take our boxes over to Green Park and chomp away on our yummy and still fresh, cheap sushi! :)
4.  Pret-a-Manger.
5.  THE CHEESES! What a wonderful selection.... When I was up for it, I'd walk to Whole Foods in Kensington and head straight to the huge, refrigerated cheese room and treat myself to a chunk of Manchego with quince jelly.
6.  Solero Exotic fruit Sorbet Ice Cream
7.  Healthy ready made meals, especially the ones from Waitrose. They were perfect for the nights I didn't have enough time to cook.

8.  Sunday Roasts at the local.

9.  Gastro pubs. I love the concept of hanging out at a somewhat contemporary pub with history to drink beers on tap but also be able to eat gastronomic, restaurant food in the same spot.

10.  I miss my favourite restaurants! Busaba Ethai, with three spots in Central London. My fave is their Thai Green Pepper Calamari. Belgo's Centrale in Covent Garden for AMAZING mussels by the pot, my local pub (The Queens Head in Brook Green) for last minute meals out, Wagamamas around the city for ramen cravings, and most importantly Chelsea Bun in Fulham for their English breakfasts! Oh the wonders of the English fry-ups....

11.  Good and  reasonably priced berries. Strawberries, rasperries, blueberries....

12.  Fresh bread that doesn't need to be put in the fridge.

13.  Magners Cider. Yes, it's not food but I still miss it.

14.  The chocolates. Galaxy especially. I can buy it here, but it's not on every corner shop. It's in one shop and three times the price.

15.  Smoked salmon, cream cheese and onion bagel from Oi Bagel.

Ah, so much more. but I think it's time to stop before I buy a ticket over to London to eat all of this.

.a Utopian in East London.

There is this pleading voice echoing in my head, an urge and rush of adrenaline. It had been lingering and hovering over me these past few weeks and I want to share.

I have been thinking about my last year in university. The previous years had already been a challenge and the last year had raised its stakes. I was scared for what would happen after, yet confident that my creativity would take me somewhere.  I walked with my head held up high, after two years of constructive criticism, and somewhat berating as well, I decided to finish the year without tears. After all, I was showing them who I was as an artist, who I was as a designer. I had my brave boots on and succumbed to their challenges. There was a world that I created where the design strategies were mine and my voice constantly backfired and exploded with reasoning and purpose. My fingers worked with my imagination and I became the character I created, that old Utopian, a wanderer walking down the paths of East London. Needless to say, it ended up as the best digital concept work I have ever done. So now two years have passed, and the folder that holds these designs are constantly viewed. I remember how creatively passionate I was, where sleepless nights were not a chore but a genuine commitment to my craft.

For so long, inspiration has always come from other people, other artists and designers, but today I want to inspire myself. I want to believe that the person who created that world before still exists. I want to remember that I can do this, I would like to be brave again and believe that my art matters.

Because it does. My art matters. It is part of who I am.

.uneasy.

Week four of Unravelling has me looking at memories, looking through old photos and reminiscing and then I find that my tummy starts churning with every London album I open up.
I miss the city, the fast paced hustle and bustle. I miss how you can take a turn into a park and feel like you have escaped from the city in a matter of minutes. I miss being able to walk everywhere. Oh, the walking… my heart aches for this. We could spend hours walking around the city without a destination, without a reason except to just walk. I miss the fact that things work, that people know what they are doing, that people understand what they are doing. I miss drinks at the pub, especially in the summer when people are chasing the sun in the beer gardens. I miss spring and autumn, where the air is crisp. I miss Tesco, Primark and H&M. I actually miss my tiny little flat, with it’s creaky floors and lack of space, I really do.

Guess life really is how it’s supposed to be. You miss the little things that made you happy. I wanted to leave so badly and here I am yearning for it.

London was good to me, how can I not miss it?

. a little world called chelsea .

Fine artists, fabric designers, interior and spatial designers, product designers, sculptors, and loads of other creative heads. They were there. They made up Chelsea College of Art and Design.  My uni. My haven for inspiration for at least 3 years of my life.

The cafeteria buzzed daily with the artistic jargon. The air was filled with imaginative murmurs. The halls were a sea of blueprints, canvases, photographs, man, you name it. This place breathed creativity. And we all lived in it, embraced it, and we all became it.

At the height of being engulfed in this creative world, I sometimes lost my breath. I sometimes lost my way. Sometimes when your only fuel is caffeine and your drive, you body tries to hang on but slips. Can you imagine being in a room where ideas are ricocheting of the walls? Can you just picture the overwhelming flow of energy between all these artists and designers?  It was overpowering and amazing at the same time.

I became this person I had been searching for. It took a while but I found her with a little help from the little world I called Chelsea.

. chelsea dreamin' .

"Woke up, it was a Chelsea mornin’
And the first thing that I saw
Was the sun through yellow curtains
And a rainbow on my wall
Red, green and gold to welcome you
And crimson crystal beads… to beckon…
Won’t you stay
We’ll put on the day
There’s a sun shower every second …… "

-Joni Mitchell

.the past is strapped to our backs.

i think of London a lot. how it shaped me, how it moulded me, how it embraced me.
it gave me my husband. and it brought me my son. it provided me my strength as a person. it gave me my passion as an artist. it gave me lifelong friendships. it brought me lots of tears and oh so much happiness.

                  it’s my old life but my photos are there to remind me about it.
                  i miss it. i really do.