✉ For the Love of Bridges

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

I am truly drawn to the great bridges of the world. Perhaps for their form, their function, the fine planning that precedes construction, the well handled tension, or for the beauty of their symmetry. Maybe the love for bridges was carried over from my father, who is a Civil Engineer responsible for these austere structures. Bridges connect us, whether it be over perennial waters or dry river beds, through rough terrains or mountain passes. I will always love and value a good bridge.   

- TIED UP WITH STRINGS (*BY NIGHT) -

*t

✉ A Milky Way

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

What surprised me most that night on Brooklyn bridge was how milky some of the tones were. Unexpected soft pastels in dirty gritty New York City. I found myself walking on a milky way, lost in the stars and big city lights.

- TIED UP WITH STRINGS (*BY NIGHT) -

*t

✉ Lights and Clouds

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

Few things in life, make me as happy as lights and clouds do. Perhaps I delight in the simplicity of the aesthetics of these elements. But yet I find that bliss lies in the warmth of a friend you can share these views with.            

- TIED UP WITH STRINGS (*BY NIGHT) -

*t

✉ Wet Shoes

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

My best-loved dark brown leather shoes lie on the shoe rack today, quite worn. As sad as I am about their state, I recall all the adventures I got to go on wearing them. One of those pairs of shoes with beautiful stories. The Brooklyn bridge on a rainy night story, being one of my favourites.              

- TIED UP WITH STRINGS (*BY NIGHT) -

*t

✉ Strings of Stars

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

A walk on Brooklyn Bridge at night after rain: beautiful. The strings of stars and city lights of Manhattan sparkled like diamonds. The lights in the skyscrapers, like bar charts of stars that want to reach even greater heights. New York magic.              

- TIED UP WITH STRINGS (*BY NIGHT) -

*t

Tied Up With Strings (*by Night)

There was a girl in a white dress and black cotton sash who had a sensational long list that she titled simply, and in black cursive strokes: "Favourite Things". As she soared over glaciers and blue oceans with specs of icebergs, she couldn't help but make a couple of notes on her insatiable list. The girl noted down the smallest amusements: "These days I find myself washing my hands in stars" she thought as she emptied the Laurent-Perrier over her hands. This pastime, of course, encouraged dreaming, and she entertained all kinds of dreams. She even dreamt of these stars and how they could be stringed into a necklace. 

One day she followed the sun, for the sun was one of her favourite things. But then she ended up chasing a cloud instead. Which wasn't all that bad, as clouds featured on the near top of her list. She took all in her stride until she found shiny strings of stars. She stopped; thought she was dreaming, but then realized it was real. The roses bent in the rain at that moment, but the girl thought they bowed. The moon blinked, she mused, and as the curtain of rain opened up, and the leaves stopped clapping, the girl knew that this was no ordinary coincidence. She was lead there into a wonderment perhaps only meant for her and her list. And in that moment, when the handsome clocks began to remind others of time lost, she took out her list and added: "And the bridges in New York are made of such strings!" 

(I was that girl...lucky girl.)

So that was what was going through my head. Here is what was seen through my lens:

It was my first time in New York's Subway. It wasn't rush hour, but the New Yorkers sure did rush by.

As I walked up the stairs out of the subway, rain was pouring down. Brief though, the shower glazed the entire city. And as the sun was setting, the city lights slowly started to illuminate. And the Yellow Cabs became ever so prominent on the darker streets.

The first few steps on the Brooklyn Bridge already had NYC written all over it

My poor shoes had to endure yet another walk in the rain.

The last raindrops fell and the rain cleared away like some grand show's diamond studded curtain to reveal a violet sky; a city cleansed beneath it. The sight: too beautiful. (♥)

I was beyond ecstatic. And surprised by the freshest air and milky light all around me.

When I saw this, I melted, yet felt refreshed. Strange how such dirty streets can cleanse you so.

Brooklyn Bridge is seriously one of the most romantic (man-made) walks in the world. And when those lights start to sparkle, I am just one smitten kitten.

As the cars sped past, I wondered if the drivers thought of this as a mundane trip.

A light affair to sweep you off your feet. Unmistakably: the starry necklace of Manhattan Bridge in the background. 

And, I thought, I would like a necklace like that for Christmas. The clouds opened to reveal the beautiful moon. But I was already standing beneath the strings of stars. 

(This remains one of my favourite memories)
*t

✉ Iris

TODAY'S PHOTO: 

One of the most engaging Greek treasures to me, is the beautiful statue of "Iris", found today in the British Museum in London. There is just something about this statue's grace; an elegance that seems to extend beyond the broken limbs. It is perhaps her swiftness, captured in stone, that makes Iris seem both free and contained at the same time. I somehow associate "Iris" with this year's Olympic Games. Maybe it has something to do with her wings of gold, with which she sped through the skies and over Greece, delivering messages to Juno or Jupiter. Perhaps under London's clouds, I have seen several rainbows this week. Iris, the Rainbow Goddess known for descending from her "watery arch", gives us notice of the storms that are upon us; and thereafter indicates, in the calm, that a balance is restored. 

No wonder William Shakespeare included Iris as a character in 'The Tempest'.  

- LONDON'S CALM, LONDON'S STORM -

*t  

✉ Mind Games

TODAY'S PHOTO: 

And all I could think of in the rush of the events that played off before me, was that the best in these Games are the ones who exceed the physical mastery of their own talents by realizing that some success lies in the poised mind.          

- LONDON'S CALM, LONDON'S STORM -

*t

✉ Eyes Wide Open

TODAY'S PHOTO: 

There will be several things I remember from my very first trip to London in 2009. One of the moments I recall quite fondly, was when I wandered through Green Park and St. James's Park, not really knowing where I was. Distracted by large trees and daffodils, and deep in conversation with a good friend, I suddenly without anticipating the approach, found myself several feet away from Big Ben and the beautiful Houses of Parliament. An unexpected find, I thought. And in the storm of people, it suddenly went quiet. There they I stood. Dumbstruck by the beauty of Parliament, for it was elegant in every way. To some level, I was so shocked, that did not move from where I stood. And after visiting Westminster Abbey, I looked, just one more time, before I retraced my steps back again through the parks. It was only on my third visit that I even realized that Parliament stood on the bank of the Thames. But somehow, I liked the way that London slowly opened up to me. Today I am delighted whenever I get to see or hear Big Ben. And the bridge over the Thames: a reminder that we have access to so many different points of views. Not even to mention the views from the London Eye. I see a lot of first time London explorers, and I see eyes wide open. Beautiful.                   

- LONDON'S CALM, LONDON'S STORM -

*t

✉ First Day

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

It is difficult to describe the excitement I felt that very first day I landed into London's Heathrow Airport. England's cool green Spring welcomed me. Wild yellow daffodils, trees, dark brick buildings in a shade of Russet I had never seen before, moody skies, the smell of sweet perfume in the lobby and the chill in the air. The setting itself, a wellspring for the words and characters in English Literature that then seemed to stream back into my head, ever so vividly. I recall it all so clearly, my mind feeling alive. After getting ready in my tiny hotel room, I met one of my best friends for my very first real English Breakfast. We walked into a sooty dark pub with murky coloured carpets and old leather chairs. In speechless rapture I listened to my friend's stories of her magical London. We sat there amidst ale covered bar stools on worn carpets, having tea. Ecstatic in our own little paradise. 


This photograph will remain one of my favourites. My very first day in magical London with one of my best friends.             

- LONDON'S CALM, LONDON'S STORM -

*t

✉ Anna Bessonova

TODAY, A MEMORY OF YESTERYEAR: 

It was a Thursday when I went to the park to walk the dogs with my friend. She asked, in accord with her usual standard of deep enquiry: "If you had all the money in the world on this particular day, what luxury would you afford yourself?". Without hesitation, I said that I would buy an airplane ticket and book a trip for the next Rhythmic World Championships which I speculated would have had to be the one in Japan. I was living in Cape Town that year and had never even been abroad or out of Southern Africa before. I told my friend that I have never seen International Rhythmic Gymnastics and that there are only a few opportunities to see the gymnasts who you really admire. And I haven't had the opportunity to see either Natalia Lipkovskaya or Elena Vitrichenko before they retired. I told my friend that I just couldn't bear the thought of not being able to see Anna Bessonova perform live. She is a Ukrainian Rhythmic gymnast whose grace and elegance and drama have brought me to tears in front of the mere television. 


After the walk that night, I had this urgent desire to see Anna Bessonova perform live. I am not sure whether it was a wish or a prayer, but it came from the deepest part of my heart. And that was all. 


The next day I got an out of the blue email from an artistic gymnast who was a team mate from an Intervarsity Competition we took part in a couple of years before. He thought that he would let me know of a Rhythmics Competition that would take place the next day in a town that was about an hour's drive out of Cape Town. He explained it as a competition between Ukraine seniors and Southern Africa. "Seniors" as we used to call them were usually at pre-Olympic level, so I immediately discarded the idea that Anna might perform. I decided not to go. Then my sister called. She wanted me to urgently visit her the next day because she wanted recipes (or something that could be emailed or faxed. Her town was an hour's drive in a different direction. I didn't feel like going all that way on a Saturday. And then, a second email: another school friend invited me to a dinner on Saturday night in the same town as the competition. Three invites  that seemed to chase me out of Cape Town for the day. I confirmed that I would go visit my sister first, then hang out at the competition before the dinner, because I really had nothing else to do to kill time. 


My sister ended up going with to the competition. My friend from the park agreed to meet up later. The gymnasts who were to perform lined up for the Opening, and as I figured there was no Anna or any international Ukrainian I could identify. Then someone peeked through the side curtain. For a moment my heart stopped, and I thought I saw Anna. But I was seated quite far away. And I thought it was wishful thinking. The next moment it was announced: "Current World Champion from Ukraine! Anna Bessonova!". And out she walked. Shocked, my tears began to run, and all I could think was: "Stop crying. You won't be able to see the live performance with tears in your eyes."


She was dancing with all the grace and all the passion in the world. Perfection in every turn and leap, handling the hoop as if it was a precious ring. I have never seen anything as lovely as her dancing in my life. Her performance exceeded my expectations. 


Afterwards I went to join the line of ten year olds to also ask for her autograph as a present to my best friend who also used to do the sport. I thanked her and asked if we could take a picture. And now I have this photograph. Not the best angle, or light, but when I look at it I cannot help but beam. To top it all off, my friends and I attended the dinner and hours after that my sister asked whether we could stop at the gas station for some chocolate milk. I walked in, and there she was again, buying loads of chocolates. In two days after wishing, I got to see her twice.


Anna retired as Rhythmic Gymnast. And even though all the other and new gymnasts will take part in this year's Olympic Games, I feel like I somehow got to see the best this sport has to offer. I do have my new favourites, but this memory is one that I hold dear.                       

- LONDON'S CALM, LONDON'S STORM -

*t