"Surrender in the Queen's high name; you are a blundering son!"

****

The Tate Modern yesterday.  I went with my flatmate Christina, expecting to be
greeted upon first entrance by that instillation of a giant red, glowing sun with
the heat lamps ('member, Mum?),but apparently that was a temporary exhibit and had
been replaced by a huge ice maze,Styrofoam really, piled and stacked like sculpture
into what looked like a small town.  That enterance hall is a great high-ceilinged
echoing space whichwas completely taken over by this exhibit.

http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/exhibitions/whiteread/default.shtm

Those photos don't give you a sense of what a sight this exhibit is.  It's just huge.
I wish they'd given you a human for scale.

Unlike American museums, silent, contemplative, a little pompous even, not usually
a family atmosphere, the Tate buzzed with the hum of people in line to buy tickets,
people on cell phones, people milling loudly about between upstairs exhibits, all
punctuated by the shrieks of children, thrilled at the novelty of running through
the ice maze downstairs.  Also, um, they sell really good muffins.
As the paid exhibits (Henri Rousseau: Jungles in Paris) were £13 each (that's like
two days worth of food), we opted for their regular (free) collection. We did manage
to sneak into the Jeff Wall photography exhibit; the above photo is one of his.
Titled Room 6- Insomnia. To me he felt like one of those literal photographers who,
with the exception of the landscapes, presents you with a picture and you're looking
at it unsure if something is about to happen or it's already happened.  Either way
you feel like you've missed the best of it.  I guess it's one of those things where
you're just supposed to trust that as the photographer, he's given you the best part.

Returned to New Cross, got some excellent Indian food (chicken so spicy it made my
nose run, salad, sweet naan with almond and coconut...omigod naan gives a whole new
meaning to soul food),read for a little while and called it an early night.

This morning I went for a run around 11, ipod in hand (let me tell you, people in
New Cross really don't know what to make of runners).  I went mostly for the purpose
of exploring non-tube areas. About twenty minutes out after enduring a bitch of a
hill, the road plateaued into a great expanse of green; really, huge, circled by
houses so far away I could barely see them through the mist. Reminded me of the
vineyard.  This was Blackheath; a tiny suburb of East London characterized, clearly,
but this huge expanse of field, the two lane road of heavy traffic running through
the middle of it, and off to the right, the Blackheath Tea Hut.  This was -really-
a tee-pee in the middle of a field that sold tea.  I had no money on me but the guy
very kindly gave me a free cup of water.   Better deal than Venice beach where they
charge you 25 cents for the cup!
At the moment I'm in the library with my own laptop (so grateful for wireless, dodgy
and inconsistent as it may be, there's something about typing on your own keysboard)
The other students here are amazingly well-dressed.  Here I am in my black thermal
with thumb holes cut out, jeans, boots, hell, I'm even wearing real earrings, and I
look a wreck next to these girls in prim little sweaters and skirts and heels, guys
in foofy scarves (scarves!) and colorful boots...*sigh* Roberto would be right at
home.

Well, all that's left for the day is solidifying the week's class schedule and a dojo
trip tonight -finally heard back from the one on campus.  And yes, probably more
oatmeal.

I do wish I'd brought my rollerblades, although there is no place for them around here.
Soooo ready to have some work to do.




shimmy shimmy quarter-turn