At My Desk By the Window

     It's grey and drizzly outside, the hills are so green they blend together like a single emerald ocean when viewed through the spattered raindrops on my window. The wind buffets the curtains back and forth like sails, so I prop books against them to keep the kettle that's perched on the sill from toppling over. Still a little rummy from last night's wine and crap telly, sipping a cup of gunpowder green tea (my new addiction), munching on a bowl of ramen, job hunting and re-reading some Victorian lit in preparation for exams... I'm definitely back in England.
     In theory, I should be getting close to completing my last few creative writing pieces, but instead I use these little ramblings about my travels and surroundings to take my mind off of other things, telling myself I'm just working my way up to it and that the stories will find a way to finish themselves later. It's an odd feeling... being back. You think I would be used to it by now, but each time I return from wherever it is I've wandered, the sense of loss, the listlessness, the soft sadness remains fresh. It never changes. Naturally, I am no less delighted with so many new memories created in the company of so many wonderful, different people than I was whilst living them, but I always seem to feel just that much less alive once the dream is over. Never do I feel as wholly myself and in the present moment than when I'm getting lost in a strange city or standing before a scene or structure that makes something in me sigh a quiet, "Oh."
     Pasta sauce from Poundland, a can of diced tomatoes, and a bag of penne have been added to the fleet that keeps the curtains at bay. I haven't showered, and my face looks a bit haggard in the mirror... Though that could simply be due to either the inherent paleness of my skin or the light that grows steadily greyer as the evening wears on. Although drops occasionally splash across my desk and dampen my papers, I leave the window open because the rhythmic sound of water falling into water is the best kind of music for a restless spirit.
    My tea has become more water than anything, and the ink stains on my hands have created a dappling of dalmatian around the handle. I contemplate throwing the pen out, but decide not to bother. I don't mind a few ink spots on my mug or beside my nose, I have no one to impress today. Besides, it seems that whenever I try to impress people, they end up getting the wrong impression almost every time anyway. So many of my current friends tell me that upon first meeting me, they thought I wanted nothing to do with them. That I was snobby, reticent, cold, and aloof. Now, I'm not a particularly tall or imposing person, and my habitual expression is not a frown, so I always wonder how it is they came across these notions. I can only hope that these initial conclusions are proven to be inaccurate ones later on in any case, as I'm not exactly the most unbiased source of information on the topic. 
     The light has gotten a bit brighter but no less grey as there is a momentary break in the weather. The water ripples and reflects the spidery outlines of tree limbs back at the sky on the flat roofs below. No one clambers about the Crayola coloured play structure a few yards over. Perhaps the adults are afraid those that normally would be might fall or, more likely, prefer not to face the wrath of parents forced to stuff muddy children into the backseat of their cars.
     I'm not really going anywhere with this, in case you were wondering. I'm just whiling away these dim moments spent in my little shoebox of a room at my desk, before a rain streaked window and curtains that persist in their billowing. I hear the occasional slam of a door down the hall, but no one knocks. A friend called a few minutes ago for a conversation lasting a little over five seconds. I've never been a particularly good phone conversationalist. I need to see a person's face to be able to really articulate myself properly... although I seem to have no trouble rambling paragraph after paragraph when it's just me and a blank text box.
     It's probably time to call it quits before I end up writing a novel entirely about nothing. Something is already scheduled to happen tomorrow, as it's one of my more flamboyant friend's birthdays. This group was the one I spent the hours from 11:30 pm to 4 'clock in the morning yesterday, doing very little while drinking a little too... Which probably is why I stayed so long. Morning came and went with the cleaning lady today, who I spurned by pretending to be asleep as I rolled grumpily over to face the wall. That's certainly one way to live your life, one without any mornings. I don't particularly like that style of living, I find, even though I have had more than my fair share of these kinds of days at my ancient 21.
     But next year is a new year, and perhaps this summer could even be a new beginning if I let it. This coming month could be one of the best of my life, and I have only to wake before noon to ensure it. You never know, these things could all happen. We'll just have to wait and see. What little I have to do today I'll try and do what I can of. This grey makes my eyes feel weighted down and I should probably eat something more substantial than an animal cracker to keep myself awake. 

Lots of love and sleepy sighs from a rainy, green-grey England,

Torey

Three Weeks: Greece, Italy, The Netherlands, & Germany

In Which a Girl Wanders Across Europe & 
Probably Gets Way Too Existential About It

Hey, all!

     At long last I am returned from my stint of adventuring in Europe and am slowly settling back into life in rural England as I begin to prepare for my examinations next month… Eek! Needless to say, I haven’t been thinking of those overmuch for the past few weeks, as I have been absolutely absorbed in my exploration of the islands of Greece, the major cosmopolitan cities of Italy and the Netherlands, and in cycling around the Rhine Valley in Germany. Admittedly, there were times during my travels that were undoubtedly trying, frustrating, and headache-inducing, but amongst those were also times that made me feel as though I was soaking up some of the absolute best the world had to offer, making me feel so good about life and the choices I'd made that had allowed me to stand there, right where I was, like I belonged and was exactly where I needed to be. And that, I can most definitely say, is a damned good feeling and one I'll admit to occasionally doubting I'd ever get the chance to feel.

     As always seems to be the case after any period of intense wanderlusting, I feel as though I continue to gain a better grasp of the places and people I’m looking for and the sort with which I’d like to someday surround myself, wherever it is I eventually end up. Every time I’m able to sample the wonders of a new place, it’s as if I can see another, alternate version of myself who might someday be able to build an entirely new life there… And some places, just like some people, seem to ‘fit’ better than others depending upon an endless number of factors, most of them unknowable and which really just come down to who I am as a person and how that identity influences the way I perceive the world around me. So of course the immeasurable feeling of delight one experiences at being in a certain place at a certain time is just as unexplainable and exempt from analysis as the factors that dictate love and attachment. However, that circle of selective possibility that I've so often felt constricting now begins to feel as though it's expanding and growing wider as I allow myself to walk about the world, meet new people, and encounter strange things that sometimes require quite a bit of grappling to make any sense of. 

     I don’t think anyone’s capable of figuring out the precise cause of any of the powerful inclinations that so drive us towards particular places or particular people, although we’ve all experienced their influence at one time or another. I know that just over the last month I myself have felt their influence in varying degrees of intensity depending on whose company I shared and where I happened to be at the time. So quickly do they work that for me, images of Greece now largely inspire a remembrance of fond friendship and camaraderie that somehow grew and drew me closer to people that once were strangers as we navigated through unfamiliar, sometimes dangerous territory. Surprise changes in course, however dramatic, did not cause us nearly as much grief as I expected, and images of beautiful beaches and still more beautiful waters, hills, and vistas envoke a sense of timelessness, good health, and warm humour that endured despite initial worry. Our faith in ourselves and each other kept us sane and in good spirits despite whatever setbacks we occasionally encountered and made each day one part adventure, one part spontaneous, and one part surprise. 
     
     Any mention of Italy now reminds me of that particular feeling of awe I experienced as I wandered about monumental structures and the slightly disconcerting wonder I felt at how small and insignificant my own existence seemed when set alongside the sheer spiritual and historical significance that practically breathed from the very walls and ruins of such places. After walking away from yet another ornately painted ceiling, pagan fountain, veiled marble statue, or the scattered remains of another old place of worship, I fell in love with the Italian... Well, everything. Their unique style of dining that comes in stages and is held in a number of different venues and the immense pleasure they take in the creation of meals and the consumption of good food (always best when enjoyed in conjunction with long conversations and several glasses of wine) prompted my companions and I to walk a bit slower as we went from place to place, to speak a little more thoughtfully, and to enjoy the simple things that always somehow manage to bring people closer together, to create stronger ties, and more deeply felt memories. 


    In Germany, the driven days and leisurely crawl of nights in Italy gave way to ones filled to the brim with activity in the open air as we pedalled our way along the river or through tiny villages erected in the same era as famous composers whose likenesses can be found 'round most every cobblestoned street corner. Each day and night was heavily laced with large doses of quirky humour amongst our group of girls and the most enjoyable degree of silliness ensued as my friends and I laughed at each other's foibles after getting hopelessly lost and finding our way again with great effort, only to happen upon a scene so unassumingly beautiful or someone so frank and sincere that it surprised us into lingering longer than we'd originally intended. 

     Naturally, I don’t know what any of these impressions mean or what sort of changes they may or may not precipitate at some unknown point in the future. However, I do know that whatever it is they are or will be, it’s profoundly important that I had the opportunity to experience them. No lasting progress ever came of sticking one’s own head in the ground, so staying in my room counting the number of books I haven’t yet read or bemoaning whatever mistakes I feel I’ve made in the past will do nothing towards getting me to the place, person, or state of mind I’m meant to be, choose, or live by… So I might as well do my utmost to keep moving forward and to not allow myself to fall back into the rut I sometimes feel only a hair’s breadth away from plummeting right back into again. So I'll naturally do my best to surround myself with good people, good energy, and work hard to create an environment that encourages forward movement, giving me room to do what pleases me in a way that allows me to be true to myself and also to get ready to eventually become part of a much wider, more dynamic world.

     Thanks so much for your patience everyone, for now I’m here until next I need another adventure to shake me up.

Lots of love & all that jazz from England,

Torey

England and Abroad: The Official Update

London in Motion

     Okay, so it's been exactly 2 months, 2 weeks and 1 day since I departed from home and left behind all that was familiar to study English literature and sociology in the UK. Since I've arrived, I've made and lost friends, been overjoyed with wonderment and happiness at all the wonderful new things I've been learning & experiencing, been heartsick for familiar voices and have longed to wrap my arms around those separated from me by miles upon miles of ocean, land, and mountains. I've journeyed widely and more frequently than ever before, travelling to new cities to take in new sites and meet new people almost every weekend whilst attempting to soak up as much beauty and culture provided by the little rural community in which my university is nestled during the working days. I've walked through the woodland adjoining the Victorian hall that graces the western side of our campus. I've picnicked on the green hills and sheep-dappled fields that slope down gently only to cut away steeply to form countless numbers of creeks and shallow riverbeds.

     I've ventured into our little town for market day and bought freshly grown produce, homemade bread, and preserves to add to my food-making arsenal for the meals I would engineer to keep myself going that week. I've explored the streets of Manchester, London, Liverpool, and Edinburgh whilst successfully managing to navigate around each's unique transportation system that varies in their degrees of complexity. I've had to manage myself and my money in a way that makes me feel like I've truly earned my independence over here and leaves me with little doubt of my ability to handle myself in almost any situation. This burgeoning self-faith is something I hope will continue to grow as I do my best to foster it and, more than anything, I hope to be able to take it back home with me once my time here comes to a close. Currently, I am left with a little over two months more in England, and it would seem that the next part of the journey is just about to begin.

     Tomorrow marks the start of my university's Easter vacation, which will extend all the way to the end of the month, upon which time exams will commence. I will be travelling abroad three out of four of these weeks, spending the first in Greece, the second in Italy, and the third in The Netherlands and Germany respectively. I will be travelling with friends I've made over the course of only the last two months, but a few of which I feel as though I've known my entire life. That's what it's really like here; an entire college or life's worth of experience condensed into a few short months. In the beginning you cling to whoever you can for survival, like you did in high school. Then, as you begin to get a better feel for your footing, you begin to realise where you really figure into things and how to get about and be on your own... In other words, by a continual process of trial and error and attempts at friendship and occasional causes for embarrassment, you find your independence, your stride, if you will, as you begin to walk on solid ground. Sometimes the earth shifts and you stumble, perhaps even fall, but eventually you scrabble back up onto your knees and then push yourself to your feet with usually only a bit of dust and a reddened face to show for it.

     So, now that I feel as though I'm really beginning to hit my stride as it were, I'm forcibly whisking myself away and out of my comfort zone and throwing myself straight back into mostly unknown territory again: Travelling across Europe not quite by my lonesome, but with small band of fellow wanderers to keep me company. Unlike all (or at least most) of my previous travel experiences around both Europe and Asia, our exact itineraries are not set, nor is our accommodation. True, this grants us a great deal of freedom in respect to where we go, what we do, and enables us to follow our whims and chase our muses wherever we might... But of course, it also leaves us with a great deal of uncertainty at the outset.

     Now, I'd very much like to think myself the free and restless spirit that revels in the wandering, the exploring, and the investigating that leads one to some of the best surprises travelling independently and on one's own can offer. And, to an extent, I think I can safely say that I am (or at least am in the process of becoming) that person. As I mentioned earlier, a lot of this studying abroad business seems to have to do with developing trust in--not so much other people, surprisingly--but in yourself. As long as you've developed and are continually working to develop a stronger faith in yourself and your own judgement, you're able to make sounder decisions with more clarity of thought, and this process eases with each time you allow yourself to practice thinking on your own, forming your own opinion, and then acting on it. Just like when you're in the process of forming both good and bad habits, these things tend to stick, so getting them right (or at least on the way to/close to being right) the first time is probably a good idea.

     In other words, I'm going to do my absolute best to have as much fun as I can out there whilst simultaneously doing my best to... Well, do my best and not mess up too badly along the way.
And that's that. I fly to Greece tomorrow with one suitcase, a flimsy backpack, a Canadian, and two Brits. Wish me luck, safety, a great deal of fun and a good deal of learning, enjoyment, excitement, and wonder. After all, those are all the things I wish for myself and intend to make good on, so I'm sure a little bit of positive thinking from your direction couldn't possibly hurt to help along the endeavour.

Lots of love and all that jazz from England,

Torey

On Language: England's "Bits and Bobs"

The lovely collection of items pictured above reminds me of a term I've heard quite often over the course of my stay in the UK, "bits and bobs." The English (in the Midlands at least, as I really can't speak for anywhere else) use it as a term that pretty much directly corresponds to the more commonly used in America "odds and ends." However, I like the English term better, as the alliteration just comes across in a very pleasing way to me for some reason.