Here's a lot.
One strange, but sweet feature of life here so far has been a regular stream of new and recurring Borrow my doggy 'dates'. Borrow my doggy is a truly wonderful app that connects people who wish they could have a dog with people who have a dog and need hellllpppp (like me). Charlie is the best boy and his companionship is so important to me, especially when everything else in life is changing. But equally, a lot of London life is not entirely dog friendly, and sometimes finding the time to work, walk him 2 or 3 hours a day, AND do anything else feels like a challenge. And that's where the wonderful gang of Borrow my Doggy pals I've somehow built up just this month come in. Gabe, Becca, Alice, Megan, Annie and Brooke are all incredibly kind, sweet, enthusiastic folks who LOVE the boy (and the boy seems to love them), who have enabled me to have rich and wonderful adventures while still coming home to the (tired, contented, well-exercised) boy every night, not to mention providing occasional emotional and friendly support to me personally as well. I am inordinately thankful for them.
The start of the month featured a bit of a quiet, slow, intense crisis about my work and my art. Perhaps I'm burnt out. Perhaps I spent the last three years working too hard and am not even sure if I enjoy what I do any more. One stress at the end of September/start of October was that my freelance work suddenly and unexpectedly almost completely dried up, which was terrifying practically, but also gave me some entirely unwelcome breathing space to really think about what I do. I got a bit scared. But I'm so tired. I've had so much change. I just need to be with the feelings for a bit and see where I come out the other side (while trying to continue in the work I *do* have, and so appreciate)
I walked though Camden on my way to a thing. Teenage Emma loved Camden.
And then, my love. Alfred is here for the briefest moment. I meet him at Heathrow and we immediately get the train up to Leeds for a show that night. It's been so long since we were last together, but it's always easy with him. And always an adventure. And we're always sleepy. But that's okay.
The next morning, we're up so early in Leeds, and straight back down to London for 24rpm festival, a strange electronic music festival in a Covent Garden church. I sit in the pews all day and plough through nearly half of the new Phillip Pullman book while being serenaded with such sounds. Alfred to and fro, soundchecking, being helpful, playing, discretely sleeping off jetlag next to me (his ability to sleep in incredibly loud places is perpetual amazement to me). We get to stroll Covent Garden a little too, vintage stores and delicious food and the most beautiful independent fancy stationery store. The whole thing is a joy.
The next morning, hey guess what, back to the other end of the country to Manchester, for a show at my old favourite haunt, the Soup Kitchen. I love the backstage space there, it's grimy and cosy and plastered with such beautiful posters. I've been seeing Alfred for two years now (though he has been in my life since way back in 2013, one way or another), but being in his presence is never taken for granted, and getting to travel with him such a privilege and a joy. This trip so short and such jetlag, but magic as always.
And then, we're up, at 6am. Everything's hazy, we're on more trains, and then he's gone.
In something of a haze of FEELS, I go back and buy the most beautiful vintage coat which we saw in Covent Garden which costs nearly an entire month's food budget. (I have no regrets, it is perfect)
And then I return to reality. A reality which, admittedly, is much happier than much of this last year has been, but feels messy, and unformed, and confusing, and sometimes lonely, and sometimes hard work. It's around this time that my housemate (and old school friend who I moved down here to live with), tells me that he has to move out in December. And I am, briefly, crushed.
I truly did not want to live with two strangers. (Beatrice is not a stranger any more admittedly, but still, I have only known her under a month). But I'm going to have to find a new housemate and this is deeply deeply stressful to me. What if I misjudge and they're awful and I feel driven out of this house I love and can't find anywhere else to live in London where I can have Charlie?! My brain spirals but hey, at least I'm not having an existential crisis about my professional career any more?! (I still entirely am)
I meet Borrow My Doggy date Megan. She tells me a lot about her life and I tell her a lot about mine, and I cry, a little. I go out for dinner with my friend Zoe and I cry a little more. I'm so lonely. (But less so, after this day)
I go to my friend Lauren's wonderful London Illustrators meet up, but feel too stressed and socially inept and unqualified to even call myself an illustrator so I mostly hide and do bad drawings of people with crayons which were bought along for children to use (and a lovely blackwing pencil lent to me by another attendee). I accidentally spill a drink over someone and leave in a cloud of shame and self-loathing.
I find myself in a Waitrose for the first time in years and get entirely carried away. DID YOU HEAR THE NEWS, VEGANS HAVE IT ALL NOW
At the height of my low mood, I decide, what better time than now to join Tinder?
All the men are truly terrible and it's hilarious. (And rejecting them all genuinely does lift my mood, somehow)
Amidst my somewhat dry spell of work, I recieve a truly wonderful commission from climate change charity Possible (formerly known as 10:10). They ask me to produce a series of ten illustrations about some of their radical ideas to fight climate change (you can see them here), and it's such a joy to work on something so fun for such a good client. They have a (re)launch party to celebrate their new name at the Royal Institution. My friend Charlotte comes along and we have a jolly evening of vegan canapes, passionate/positive/angry/encouraging speakers, meeting interesting people, and all set in the most incredibly beautiful space.
There was something incredibly poignant about being sat in exactly the same lecture theatre where John Tyndall stood in 1859 and told his attending fellow scientists that he had discovered that CO2 captures heat. And now hearing how incredibly badly we have failed to deal with the consequences of that discovery, and various speakers wrestling with potential ways in which we could still, maybe, possibly, save ourselves.
This is a bad drawing but noteworthy — I started running again! And it is a JOY. Battersea Park is flat, it only rains in London like... once a week?! And then only for a little while?! There's no mud and uneven surfaces and I actually... enjoy it?! For now, anyway. I think Charlie's happy too. I haven't run for well over a year now, but starting again is a lot easier than it was last time.
I went down to Brighton for work for the day. And I felt good. It's so nice to be close again. I'll always love u, Brighton.
Me and my long-time friend Heidi went to see the Takis exhibition at Tate Modern. It was fascinating and all the better for me because I'd never been to Tate Modern at night before. It was a place I visited almost every time me and my mum came to London when I was a kid, and it felt so magical to just... roll up. After work. See some art. Have a lovely dinner. And then hop on a train and be home in my own bedroom within half an hour. I am so incredibly lucky.
I'm also much closer to Chichester where my parents live now, and my mum was able to come and visit for the day too. We had lunch at one of my absolute favourite spots.
Okay I said all the Tinder boys were awful but this one wasn't. So I went on a date with him. I'm sad my drawing of him is bad because he is in fact a beautiful man, and very sweet, but I found myself... confused. He seems great, but... I don't know. Maybe it's him? He has his flaws (who doesn't) and maybe I'm not ready to wrestle with a new person's flaws yet. Maybe I like the idea of dating more than the practice of it? I joined Tinder while I was at a low, lonely ebb, but every time I try and imagine a partner coming into my life, into my space, it feels intrusive. After so long living with a partner, maybe it's nice to have everything exactly my way. I have drifted into my solitary routines with such soothing sweetness, maybe I need to exist in them a while longer, alone.
I go and visit my friend Lucy (aka Marmor Paperie) to chat about a potential shared project (and also life catchup!) Her studio is in Deptford, which involved me catching a train from Waterloo to London Bridge. It glides slowly through the heart of the city, through the most incredible and beautiful diversity of architectural age and styles. It is so sublime and I vow to try and capture it later, but can barely do justice. (I dig out some old offcuts of marbling Lucy gave me ages ago to add)
I go on a second date with Hasib. He was nice and it seems rude not to, even though I'm pretty certain I don't want to be romantically involved with him. AND YET
Last lawn-mow of the year? Battersea Park is so beautiful.
I go on another Tinder date. You know, just for calibration purposes. Edward is nice but I don't fancy him. Am vaguely reassured that I'm not just going to fancy every person I go on a date with.
I hate Karaoke, but somehow Wes makes it good. Wes and George are two wonderful friends of mine who have (platonically) lived together for at least 5 or 6 years, and their three houses have been the most wonderful safe spaces for me the entire time. I have experienced a huge spectrum of emotions on their iconic sofa, across their various kitchen tables, and am always assured at least one of them's wise and sympathetic ears, and probably some exotic vegan treats from the other side of the world, courtesy of Wes. They're parting amicably to move on to new things, but I feel a twinge of sadness that this will be the last Voss-Goatley mansions gathering.
I stay late at the party and blissfully enjoy my clocks-change extra hour of sleep, as Charlie has a sleepover with his Borrow My Doggy pal Gabe. Like literally I CANNOT OVERSTATE how wonderful it was to be able to stay in bed later than 8.30am.
Hasib comes over for dinner, and I make... choices. 😬
Heidi and Rosie come over for the Bake-off final — we have delicious Indian takeaway and catch up on our respective HOT GOSS 😬
One of the things I was most excited about being in London for was live music. Unfortunately most of the fun stuff seems to be all the way over in East London, which is a bit of a mission, but worth it for this INCREDIBLE show. Colin Stetson somehow manages to make saxaphones produce about five different sounds at once, and I was enraptured for the entire hour he played, I've never seen anything quite like it. (My friend Kier was there too, which was a bonus. I've got so used to always going to shows alone, it's nice to live in a city that maybe contains some people who share my taste)
My friend Dan texted to say he was off work and in my area and would I like to hang. We took the boy for a walk and had some... unusual... vegan fish and chips. It was so nice to see him, and I really am feeling warmed with having caught up with so many lovely folks this week/month.
London is where so many people I care about are, and although it does take an effort to actually get to those people sometimes, it's so worth it. I started the month feeling a bit lost and lonely and unsure whether I'd even ever see anyone, and I'm feeling a lot less lost now.
