February is in transit to March.
Sunny days deceptively mask the bitter cold here in London.Within a month I have lived so much and here I am to write all that comes to mind.When everyday felt like simultaneously jumping through a furnace, I promised myself that I would still trust life. And even when it felt like my soul had been squeezed of every ounce of faith,I continued to hope on.
I gave up on a love that wasn’t lovin’. It turns out that a verb is ineffectual without action.
I made several leaps career wise and although I wouldn’t exactly say that they were smooth sailing,I didn’t land on my bum.I cannot wait to try again.
My curiosity about horology was amplified when I bought an 18 carat yellow gold and steel Cartier Tank Francaise,which felt terribly grown up and deserving.I had previously worn a Gucci timepiece that was aesthetically beautiful and had been a present to myself after my advanced law degree 6 years ago.So it was a move from a purely aesthetic brand,in terms of luxury watches, to one with historical craftsmanship. What I adore most about the concept of time, is that it is a journey through knowledge,the same reason why I love books and story telling.I not only adore the noble luxury of Cartier,but also how the Santos watches were revolutionary,by deviating from pocket-styled timepieces. And how the Tank watches introduced a square look to timepieces,influenced by the Renault Army Tanks of World War I.My experience at Cartier in Selfridges was indulgent and Sylvie who assisted me (and gave me a complimentary jewellery pouch for travel) has become a friend.
My sister tuned 29 and we celebrated by drinking champagne and shopping at Chanel.We saw The Book of Mormon which was hilarious and a little uncomfortable(I am religious after all). A little group of us had supper at Hakkasan and read amusing Chinese New Years messages that were strung on the walls of the restaurant.We ended the night with coffee patron shots and a lot of dancing to Diana King 🙂
On an afternoon that was deceptively spring like, a darling friend and I had some wine and pizza at a really chic Italian place off Kings Road. A prelude to champagne at Harrods with some boisterous men.
And as persistent faith would have it,I got the last ticket to see the Painting of The Modern Garden exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts last night(what luck! because I leave for Lagos tomorrow night). It was breathtaking. Monet’s work has always been ‘other wordly’, to me.I also discovered artists I wasn’t familiar with,like Santiago Rusinol and Emil Nolde.
What were perpetual daydreams are now within my grasp.