Having spent the day wandering around the Chi Lin Nunnery and the Kowloon Walled City Park, we were ravenous. We headed back to TST and found a random Chinese noodle place. No Chinese tea apparently, which we could well-believe in light of the boiled-water flavour of the insipid looking complimentary green tea on our table. No tea leaves left, it would seem.
I ordered 'milk tea with no milk', instead. As usual. It's not black tea, it's milk tea. With no milk.
I ordered veggies in oyster sauce which were delicious and simple, along with a plate of sea blubber and pig's knuckle. I was seeking excitement and difference and found, instead, surprising ordinariness. It was like something from a cold meat platter in a posh English person's house. Not bad tasting, in fact it was delicious and I took away what I couldn't eat, it just was not what I expected.
Sometimes things are not what I expect. Sometimes this is wonderful. Sometimes it is not. I guess I'm not very good at knowing what will make me happy. The sea blubber and pig's knuckle made me happy. I wonder what else might make me happy. I wonder which of those things I am tempted to turn away from, would actually make me very happy indeed. I wonder.
the random ponderings of an ordinary person
Monday, 29 March 2010
Thursday, 25 March 2010
Barefoot is best
I love bare feet. I dislike wearing shoes.
Recently a friend told me about barefoot running so I checked it out. I found this interesting video on YouTube.
Anyone fancy a go, let me know and we'll find somewhere to run. Incidentally I'd also quite like to try a run of more than an hour with someone sometime, just to see what I am capable of.
Recently a friend told me about barefoot running so I checked it out. I found this interesting video on YouTube.
Anyone fancy a go, let me know and we'll find somewhere to run. Incidentally I'd also quite like to try a run of more than an hour with someone sometime, just to see what I am capable of.
Dance the way I feel
I've been uplifted in so many wonderful ways in the last 12 hours. I've been finding a few things difficult of late and really struggling, so I started meditating more - guess, in my own way, it's a modern version of the old school prayer that I was brought up with.
I went to a friend's concert last night in a beautiful Cathedral about 40 minutes walk from the flat. She sings in a Gospel choir and the vibe was incredible. Almost made me want to turn Gospel, just to join in that joyful and uplifting music. Rest assured I was smiling, clapping and seat-dancing the whole way through. There were moments that made me cry though, of course: Bridge Over Troubled Water will always get me, each and every time. I don't think it is sadness though. I think it is the beauty of the words. And perhaps also the recognition of how human I am and how much I need love and support in my life.
When you're weary / Feeling small / When tears are in your eyes / I will dry them all / I'm on your side / When times get rough
It's all we need isn't it? Someone to be on our side. Someone to hold us when we're feeling small, or tired, or lonely.
I woke this morning to more. An email from a beautiful friend of mine. I didn't realise until she sent me a long email how much I missed her.Her words made me feel close to her, made me feel part of her life. I also had another long email from someone else I love, with a random photo attached of a headless hammer (that he'd somehow managed to break) and a brilliant music track that most people have probably heard of, but not me: Ou est le swimming pool, Dance the way I feel. I did. I admit it. I danced in the living room.
It strikes me again: love makes my world.
I went to a friend's concert last night in a beautiful Cathedral about 40 minutes walk from the flat. She sings in a Gospel choir and the vibe was incredible. Almost made me want to turn Gospel, just to join in that joyful and uplifting music. Rest assured I was smiling, clapping and seat-dancing the whole way through. There were moments that made me cry though, of course: Bridge Over Troubled Water will always get me, each and every time. I don't think it is sadness though. I think it is the beauty of the words. And perhaps also the recognition of how human I am and how much I need love and support in my life.
When you're weary / Feeling small / When tears are in your eyes / I will dry them all / I'm on your side / When times get rough
It's all we need isn't it? Someone to be on our side. Someone to hold us when we're feeling small, or tired, or lonely.
I woke this morning to more. An email from a beautiful friend of mine. I didn't realise until she sent me a long email how much I missed her.Her words made me feel close to her, made me feel part of her life. I also had another long email from someone else I love, with a random photo attached of a headless hammer (that he'd somehow managed to break) and a brilliant music track that most people have probably heard of, but not me: Ou est le swimming pool, Dance the way I feel. I did. I admit it. I danced in the living room.
It strikes me again: love makes my world.
Saturday, 20 March 2010
Monkey poo
Did my first solo run for ages. Remembered how much I love running to the Daft Punk, Homework album.
Not the prettiest run and riddled with people clearly practicing for the world's slowest walker competition, but a good route - some long gentle slopes, some very steep and short slopes and some short runs of steps. Good muscle use.
The nicest thing? In my opinion, Hong Kong Park at the end where I stopped to watch the monkeys mess around and, it seems, make 'mess' too. Nice. In my mother's opinion, probably the Catholic Cathedral I found next to the park. She will be happy to know that there is one in this (slightly less now) Godforsaken country. Not that I could enter in my teeny shorts and running top, especially purchased a few weeks ago for the purposes of running in temperature in the 20s and humidity over 80%. Good call that was.
Anyway, now that I am shattered, dripping sweat all over the flat and aching all over, I am ready to continue my day. Hopefully with the purchase of bright red nail varnish to match my ear-rings this evening. When I can handle the thought of moving again.
Wishing you all a wonderfully happy start to your weekends too. X
PS For proof I ran, check out the glowing red colour of my face.
No wonder everyone was looking at me! I thought it was my athletic running style - clearly they all thought I was about to kark it.
Not the prettiest run and riddled with people clearly practicing for the world's slowest walker competition, but a good route - some long gentle slopes, some very steep and short slopes and some short runs of steps. Good muscle use.
The nicest thing? In my opinion, Hong Kong Park at the end where I stopped to watch the monkeys mess around and, it seems, make 'mess' too. Nice. In my mother's opinion, probably the Catholic Cathedral I found next to the park. She will be happy to know that there is one in this (slightly less now) Godforsaken country. Not that I could enter in my teeny shorts and running top, especially purchased a few weeks ago for the purposes of running in temperature in the 20s and humidity over 80%. Good call that was.
Anyway, now that I am shattered, dripping sweat all over the flat and aching all over, I am ready to continue my day. Hopefully with the purchase of bright red nail varnish to match my ear-rings this evening. When I can handle the thought of moving again.
Wishing you all a wonderfully happy start to your weekends too. X
No wonder everyone was looking at me! I thought it was my athletic running style - clearly they all thought I was about to kark it.
Thursday, 18 March 2010
My sister ate one of these
Or at least she tried to. When she was about two years old.
My Mama was quite worried. I think she only ate her way through a leaf or two.
It's an India Rubber plant and grows in the same way as a Banyan tree, which is what I thought it was at first.
This is one tree. Isn't it amazing?
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Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Toothpaste solution
And the issue with the toothpaste I raised a few days ago? Solution to be found here.
[Dominic Wilcox's Variations on Normal website, incidentally well worth checking out if you have never come across it].
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[Dominic Wilcox's Variations on Normal website, incidentally well worth checking out if you have never come across it].
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Tuesday, 16 March 2010
If I was a flower
Or a herb, to be precise, I think I'd be the stinking hellebore. It is a European plant and relies on another organism to generate heat for it. The only one discovered so far that does this. That's clearly me!
:-)
:-)
Honey joy
I have found a cafe that sells a cake rivalling the chocolate cornflake crispie cake I so adore: the cake is called Honey Joy and is even more joyous because it contains only cornflakes and honey - no butter or milk. I am sorry to say that the cafe is Starbucks, but I like it in there - you never get kicked out for sitting for a year with just one cup of tea and they do soya milk. And, so I now discover, they do Honey Joy. For less than £1 at that.
I was reading in there with my tea and my Honey Joy and I started thinking. It is difficult, if not impossible, to imagine a concept that is nameless. Once you name something, you make it easier to conceptualise. Meanings and connotations become attached to the name over time and the concept becomes even clearer. How can you truly imagine something for which you have not quite got the right words to describe and which is nameless? Are things only possible to conceptualise fully through the use of language? How much can we think - and share of our thoughts - without words? Once you name something then, do you bring it into being, somehow? Do you create what you verbalise?
It's like when you say 'I love you' for the first time. Before you spoke the words, the feeling existed somehow in a vague undefined way - and may have been felt and reciprocated, but is still somehow imperceptible and uncertain. But suddenly, as the words are spoken, they become the truth in a different - perhaps more definite - way to before you said, 'I love you'.
I was reading in there with my tea and my Honey Joy and I started thinking. It is difficult, if not impossible, to imagine a concept that is nameless. Once you name something, you make it easier to conceptualise. Meanings and connotations become attached to the name over time and the concept becomes even clearer. How can you truly imagine something for which you have not quite got the right words to describe and which is nameless? Are things only possible to conceptualise fully through the use of language? How much can we think - and share of our thoughts - without words? Once you name something then, do you bring it into being, somehow? Do you create what you verbalise?
It's like when you say 'I love you' for the first time. Before you spoke the words, the feeling existed somehow in a vague undefined way - and may have been felt and reciprocated, but is still somehow imperceptible and uncertain. But suddenly, as the words are spoken, they become the truth in a different - perhaps more definite - way to before you said, 'I love you'.
HK fog
We were standing on the balcony last night looking at the beautiful and surreal shapes of the fog. Layers of thick dusky streaks hanging at perhaps floor 20 level, way below us. We could see below and we could see above, but there were about three floors-worth hidden from sight by this smoky stripe.
We spontaneously jumped into a taxi and got a Star Ferry around 10pm last night, so we could go to the other side and take photos of Hong Kong, wearing its grimy yet somehow seductive attire.
I took some photos and if I can work out how to get them off my SLR, I'll post some. It was just breathtakingly beautiful - almost like someone had painted a cityscape of Hong Kong and then wiped a dark grey smoky stick of candy floss, in a sweeping movement, at harbour level, over the top of some buildings and then down the other side.
Then the fog started to roll towards us and within minutes most of the view was obliterated from sight and wisps of badness had started to climb up the buildings on our side too. I am not entirely sure it tasted so good and my skin felt dirty by the time we arrived home. Still, nothing like climbing into bed with thoroughly filthy feet. :-)
We spontaneously jumped into a taxi and got a Star Ferry around 10pm last night, so we could go to the other side and take photos of Hong Kong, wearing its grimy yet somehow seductive attire.
I took some photos and if I can work out how to get them off my SLR, I'll post some. It was just breathtakingly beautiful - almost like someone had painted a cityscape of Hong Kong and then wiped a dark grey smoky stick of candy floss, in a sweeping movement, at harbour level, over the top of some buildings and then down the other side.
Then the fog started to roll towards us and within minutes most of the view was obliterated from sight and wisps of badness had started to climb up the buildings on our side too. I am not entirely sure it tasted so good and my skin felt dirty by the time we arrived home. Still, nothing like climbing into bed with thoroughly filthy feet. :-)
Sunday, 14 March 2010
The fish ate my tan
We had our feet and hands nibbled by fishies today. Little dark brown things. It was the most bizarre sensation at first and took a lot of getting used to. And pretending it wasn't fish. It kind of feels horrible at first, then like something is buzzing on your skin, like the water is somehow vibrating. Loads of tiny little suckers nibbling the surface of your skin. The tiniest movement and they respond. As soon as another piece of flesh enters the water, they're there, nibbling away, seeing what fresh flesh brings to them.
Looking down at your feet, you look like you're wearing big brown boots. Made of live flesh nibbling fish.
When I got out, I was so boring - I had to apologise to my new friend - I was so amazed at my cuticles and my nails. Polished they looked. My skin looked glowing and shiny, like I'd been reborn.
Sadly, however, the fish also ate my tan. Back to having white slabs of marble for feet.
Looking down at your feet, you look like you're wearing big brown boots. Made of live flesh nibbling fish.
When I got out, I was so boring - I had to apologise to my new friend - I was so amazed at my cuticles and my nails. Polished they looked. My skin looked glowing and shiny, like I'd been reborn.
