Category Archives: thames

london calling…again

Posted on by

travel m wood union jack

woke up this morning with an offer to spend a month in london.  how uncanny is this universe when it zooms right at the bullseye of my wanderlust dreams!  mind is now racing, over copious cups of coffee and my itunes mix “london calling’, over how to juggle this, that and the other thing here in control central: have laptop, can work. no matter where, right?

and ironically, i’m working on illustrations for a book which is being published in the uk….and also have yet more illustrations to create for a children’s book set in london that i hope to pitch to thumbs up all around.  heretofore, relying on imagination, the internet and my own little collection of travel photographs has done the trick, a sort of out-of-body artist experience.

but what of this?  sketch pad in hand, jostled amongst the brits on that fabulous tube, off to sit and capture the stuff that dreams are made of….

london calling

Posted on by

m wood london here we come

carried out enormous family reunion. check.

feted darling daughter for her 20th birthday. check.

encouraged & oversaw issues related to son finding new apartment in the city. check.

dealt with new kitty, behavior management (spray bottle of water), and several vet visits. check.

aided and abetted daughter with new apartment furniture & fittings acquisitions. check.

hosted fab gals weekend with dear college friends. check.

worked, despite the continual interruptions provided by life. check.

it’s been an over the top summer with one moment clogging the next: kind of unusual for me.  maybe it’s the ages of my children, and the transitions that are vying for their attention, and subsequently, my assistance.  maybe it’s the hellish hot weather that kept most of us indoors rather than sprawled and relaxing on the deck or in the pool or garden.  or perhaps it’s just life itself: spinning madly, sometimes on a tilted ‘faster than normal’ orbit.

whatever.  frankly, too tired to consider anything beyond the check list that means that, officially, with less than a week to go, my main focus, my big to do list, is all about london2012, the english countryside adventure, a mini-tour of scotland, and 5 days in paris, all swaddled in the enthusiastic and kookie company of my three big kids.

the last time i was in europe, i had two tots and was on an excursion to research a famed italian violin maker.  a business trip, it was filled with a zany cast of characters that included a violin maker from nebraska, the first violin chair of the tokyo symphony, his girlfriend (his wife stayed behind in japan), an italian guide, and her kookie italian friend.  a good time was had by all, and i returned with bags filled with italian leathers, colorful clothes for the children, and two mini-espresso cups to use as i trained my children to love coffee.

the first time in was in europe, i had a new boyfriend, a backpack, and a fresh diary.  the trip lasted a month, the boyfriend became a husband and father of my children, and europe became the end all of all to me: haven’t spent a day since, in those 25 years, wishing somehow i lived across the pond, and adopted as close to a european/british/italian/french joie de vive in my lifestyle.

so i’m heading back.  years of dvd’s and subtitled movies, anything with hugh grant, pouring over agatha christie mysteries, smelling good italian leather whenever i’m out shopping, gulping espresso by leaps and bounds, cooking up exotic and non-american feasts in my country house, the whole bridget jones stuff keeping me focused on the places that i long for and that hold such mystery and infatuation for me.

i’m a planner, so i’m a bit freaked at the moment as i haven’t read all 54 books that i stacked on my ‘travel table’ last winter. i haven’t poured over every map gathered to earmark our itinerary.  haven’t really uploaded enough apps to follow the olympics, the travel options, the train fares and ferry tables.  haven’t copied passports or cc information.  haven’t even decided what to wear.

it’s daunting, at 52, to do all of this as the head of the familia, with 3 enthusiastic college/high school travel companions. i somehow feel responsible for providing them with a sure-fire fun and informative first ever trip to europe. i panic that i’m not prepared, or haven’t planned and researched enough.  i’m worried that i’ll get there and just become a noodle of absolutely no-good as tour guide.

so my choice is to spend these next 6 days going in circles around my house staring at my millions of lists.  frazzled and thinking i’m forgetting something.  thinking i’m not prepared enough, not informed enough, not ready.

granted, we have our experts in the field readily waiting: a savvy designer friend & her brit husband to host us in chaotic london; a goofy wonderful college pal set up in surrey to drive us around quaint towns and a few castles; a hired car awaiting us and an actual scotsman to point us in the right direction on the wrong side of the road as we scour scotland for it’s myths & wonders; and a cozy, gorgeous apartment in paris that will afford us soft slumber and a place to hang our hats.

so, with the above trajectory of padded locales, hosts and accommodations, i think i’ve planned just about enough.  leaving room for surprise, i’m done thinking and will now just relax and pack my bag. like the trips of old, not unlike that wacky old movie, ‘if it’s tuesday it must be belgium’, i can just throw care, planning and caution to the wind, throw things into a bag, pile the kids into the car, line up and board the plane, and see where it takes us.  no over-planning, no agenda, no big feats to check off our list even before we land.

i think the expression, go with the flow, is what i’ll embrace.  soak it in, see where the river (thames, dee, seine) take us, and come back stuffed with the newness of the old, the saturated in history, culture, language, olympics, souvenirs, beer, food, friends and a reinvigorated love of the world.

to diary?

Posted on by

m wood diaries

i’ve been a bit stymied lately.

somehow i feel wedged between two folds of time: longing for some sepia-esque vintage-shrouded existence not unlike the one conjured up by woody allen in ‘midnight in paris’…or perhaps a decade, two later, and the time-tricking interconnected today world that zips and flips and is just somehow so smart.

i spotted a joint called ‘the coop’ while i was twittering around on twitter, and did some internet stalking, which unveiled this again, cool-o-cool world where creatives, entrepreneurs, free-wheeling people can hang out, rent an office, network (overused word, but fits here), guzzle espresso, tinker at their laptops, all the while surrounded by like fish: inspiration in a neat, coffee-scented human&machine partnership. where was this when i was archaicly starting my little business, tucked into the land of maternity?  the days when i had to wake up little sleeping baby to dash off to the nearby ‘facsimile machine on premises’ copy shop in order to respond to a client?

back in those days, the early 90s, nothing was cool or hip about running a business in ‘the home’….and trust me, with one, two and then three little tots wandering around, thank goodness the cordless phone magically appeared in my world so that i could hide, literally, in a closet, to take a notecard order from a big shot client in new york.  in no way did you want to show ‘what’s behind the curtain’: just wasn’t something to brag about, but rather, to sort of hide!

by the end of the 90s, all of that fuss of running my own business in and around motherhood, a stove, and a pile of laundry, was being embraced.  what a relief and vindication when oprah herself, when talking about my little boxed notes, blasted out her praise of a mom working at home with her children…”and we like that!” she said to wild cheers from the studio audience.

my how time changed.

so this wedged between one world and another hit me tonight as i looked over at my diary, stacked on a pile of other goodies that have been gathered carefully to get popped into a suitcase at months’ end for a trip that my children and i are taking.  i would never  travel without one, especially on the sort of once-in-a-lifetime vacation that we’ve cooked up.  but as a part of me is clearly enamored with tech stuff, especially this iphone that i seemingly can’t live without, i realize i’m about to travel back in time, in just a couple of weeks.  and it’s a struggle.

the issue, of course, starts with roaming charges.  spend time out of your at&t zone and just forget about affording the regular text/phone/linkedin/twitter/fb/etsy/pinterest/huffpost/nyt addictions.  can’t afford to maintain my daily (hourly, minute-by-minute) addiction to invisible, intangible communication once our trip starts.  so what to do?

the phone issue has been resolved, ingeniously, by my youngest.  bring the old, retired 3g’s and zap into wifi and do a bit of the old magic on the cheap and free side of things.  brilliant!  meets the budget, and still lets me post photos on instagram…like a junkie, lining up my next ‘hit’, i instantly felt better with this solution.

but…

it did strike me, looking now at my diary, glancing over at my juiced up digital camera, leaning behind a stack of books to see pens and fresh sketchbooks that hope to make the trip, too: how much have i changed in the way i see the world.

my daily bread, here at my funky cool house, comes to me only because of the gadgets that link me to the rest of the world.  i couldn’t do what i do, and still hang with my kids and work in ridiculously ripped jeans at all hours of the day or night, without all of this interconnectedness.

but…

my trip isn’t about that. and my trips, before all of this gobbledegook arrived on the scene, were never, ever without pens, camera, diary, sketchbook, paper map, guide book, backpack.  silence.  asking for directions.  asking for advice.  striking up chats.  making new friends.  taking a risk.  seeing into someone’s eyes.  wandering without first knowing where i might be going, or where i would end up.  sketching vistas, rooflines, turrets and shores.  flying through ink like oil to a ewing, writing, writing, writing in diary after diary.  my impressions, traveling at the speed of my pen as it matched my mind and my imagination.  inspired, listening, watching, tasting, feeling, learning, longing.

so, there it is. one foot in two worlds, and rather than quarrel with myself over which one lures me more, i’m going to tip my had towards the vintage me this time around.  it suits the destination, stepping over to lands that make me shudder with the wonders of the ages, the history of anglos, the roots of my people, the whispers of all that came before all that i know: yes, decision made.

scratching pen to paper, lugging a bit of extra weight of that long-lens camera, and some fountain pen refills, i’ll be traipsing along, three curious, bright, hilarious offspring as my most wonderful companions, we’ll be going the woody route: step back in time in slow motion and soak up another world.

i’m just amazed sometimes, thinking of this zap world and how mind boggling it’s changes really are.

diamond jubilee

Posted on by

m wood diamond jubilee

in a nod to last night’s spectacular ’round the commonwealth lighting of fire-breathing beacons to salute the radiant queen of england, my daughter is preparing her own fire-themed evening.

the tradition here, at the start of summer and the end of yet another school year, is quite pagan: a roaring bonfire where all of the remnants of the previous terms notebooks and homework are gladly tossed into the dancing flames.

i’m reminded of the pure paganism of burning things, and was reminded last night as i ‘followed’ the beacon’s progress via a fluttering of twitter updates.  as each torch of flames danced and crackled, watched by circles of adoring and festive brits, i launched a fast-backward in time, envisioning the cluster of mankind in the history of humanity celebrating, honoring, nurturing, cremating, cooking, feasting, praying, warming, breathing and existing around a great big roaring fire.

in the tradition-rich four days that unfolded in the united kingdom, i had a bit of time to feel something sink in to my awareness.  that is this.  long live the queen, and on and on and on.  as far as symbolism goes, give me a blood and bones stalwart old gal who’s seen the worst of times and the best of times while warmly and steadfastly hovering just around the bend, the ties that bind a great nation are the ties that also link far and away back through history, creating a golden nugget of pride: in their nation, in their glory, in their sacrifice, in their service, in their people.

i’ve realized that the existence of a constant, as the monarchy represents, the stronghold of the heart of that gang of brits, really makes a difference in glueing them all together.  call it a family, with the matriarch, or down the road, patriarch, assembling all of the little ducks in a row, round the great big table for sunday dinner, something that is stronger and bigger than the turnstile, revolving door representatives that inhabit, for short shifts, 10 downing street, or the white house.

like everyone else around my age and gender, i had a hopelessly huge fan card for the diana club.  and i surely still do, and will, as i think of her radiance through the smiles of her dapper boys.  and in those days, before that paris crash and just afterwards, i was surely soured on the entire windsor clan as somehow representing ‘downers’ and ‘naysayers’ to the peppy loose cannon princess.

but, over time, and certainly in the vast bit of time over the long weekend as i learned more of queen elizabeth II’s life, i have a new, deep appreciation for her stick-to-itness, a far cry from her silly self-interested dandy of a runaway king uncle.

as i watch my parents and their generation play out their lives, there is a constant.  they lived through the depression, the awful second world war, and all that came as a result.  what formed their character, all of them, almost as chisel to a rock, is the same committed sense of duty and honor that is, sadly, vanishing more quickly than imaginable.

i have come to respect someone who puts country ahead of self.  it’s rare these days, and to have an over the top billion dollar really long weekend to toast this cute little lady is, really, the least anyone can do to thank her for always showing up, an earnest twinkle in her eye, tending to business and her great land, with her sturdy black purse eternally dangling from her bent, bejeweled arm.

a girl and the thames

Posted on by

m wood thames river view

fine time to be stuck over here in america’s middle west!

i’m seemingly insatiable watching the chronicles of prep, pomp and circumstance surrounding the celebration this week-end (said like a brit) and beyond of pageantry in it’s finest glory.

long a fan of history, long a fan of all things british (i’m keen for all of europe & the u.k., not to hurt anyone’s feelings), i’m having near apoplexy over being here and wishing so to be plopped in the midst of it all!

merry olde england toasts this grand dame, this once little fresh faced english lass who, by fates and her uncle’s oddly placed love for a twice divorced american (who, incidentally, once waved to my young mother one day in baltimore), was suddenly pulled from her girlish tween naivite and thrust into the role of heir apparent….and soon enough, queen of england.

omg!

and here she is, here we all are, sixty, 60! years later.  it’s mind-boggling to see the timeline of the world during her solid, dependable, steady reign…the idea of a day off must never enter this gal’s orbit, and i’m readily in line with all who celebrate this wonderful anniversary.  for a culture that’s now all about disposability, here represents not only one woman’s pledge and commitment, but too the intrigue and stalwart, steadfast history of the british monarchy.

yes, i’m a fan.

waving my union jack over here just outside of the windy city, perchance my whisper of congratulations will be caught up in a wayward eastern wind and settle gently down along the thames this happy day.