Tube tales....London sucks the soul

That pretty much sums it up. I have concluded that it's sucking my creative juices from me as I have been confined to submitting to the daily commute becoming a drone, a scurrying rat, a band geek that marches through the Tube interweaving with the masses as if it's been choreographed stepping in time without touching the soulless beings that criss-cross me, but dare to touch. This new London life is quite different that my previous life in Muswell Hill where I simply rolled out of bed walked up a hill and a flight of stairs. Black taxis, double decker busses and Tube journeys were simply for my weekend explorations and all inclusive of the adventure. Now, each day I awake knowing that I will fight my way from bus to train to Tube to bus attempting to knock 1 minute off the commute. Head down and hands in my pockets, I set my sight far in the distance. I have learned that making eye contact is a sign of weakness and only slows me down. I am able to glide through the stations with ease and quickly reach my spot where the Tube doors will open and welcome me to take my place amongst my new best friends. Every day brings an unknown as I enter the train. Sometimes I make close friends that are so close too close we could be married in some countries, other times I make Martha Graham proud with my shape shapes. I have practiced my snow boarding skills and tested my balance to conquer the train as it bobs and weaves. I have amused myself with the fantastic thought of free falling into the crowds to watch the people roll like the tide. Somehow I don't think they would be that amused.

It's a young city because it's a hard city; the greedy stay and the wise have abandoned it. I just got here though and so did my furniture, I can take it a little longer. The country awaits me.

Toulouse, France

up top, Warwick (War ICK)

xoxo,

L