living london

The last several days I have left my camera on the desk and walked out the door before I could change my mind and snatch it up again. The experience has been life-giving. 

living london | seekthewelfare

There is nothing wrong with taking photographs. I find it to be a unique and beautiful expression of the moments I find myself living and they are some of the most powerful connections to memory. Yet, stepping out into the city without the comfort of hiding behind my lens has opened up my world.

Rather than looking for what other people might want to see, I reveled in the moments of self-discovery and the ethereal quality of making unsupported memories...of finding the frames and angles that thrill my heart without having to try and express them to someone else. My experience suddenly burst into a multi-layered feast as my visual self stepped down and scent, texture, and sound came forward.

The soft mustard velvet of the theater seats and the panic in Martha's eyes as played by Imelda Staunton in "Who's Afraid of Virignia Wolf?" The shock of life infused into the green breeze of the park with its expansive meadow grass and ancient grandfather trees. The focused spotlights, cane hampers, and precise glass cases of Fortnum and Mason and the taste of marzipan fruit. The scalding burn of a steak and ale pie between sips of crisp pear cider. The outer crunch of a scotch egg and the deep orange of the runny yolk inside. The giddy thrill of finding myself in the Clock Room of the British Museum at the turn of the hour and suddenly being surrounded by a hymn of tinkering bells and persistent old clocks. Curling up on the bed in the dark, belly full and mind at rest after miles of walking and hours of soaking in the city. The cold of the shaded stone steps of Trafalgar Square and the soft squish of my ham cheddar and branston pickle sandwich. The snap and melt of Cadbury dairy milk and the last crumbly sip of tea when you've been dipping digestives into it. The creak of old floors and the wobble of garden gates.

The city is alive and I was alive in the city.

What textures and sounds and scents surround you right now? share with us on the facebook page or leave a comment below.