wet wet wet

The local Anatolian Festival would have wound up any UKIP voter - the park full of turkish people, women in headscarves, eating pide. But actually it was just like most British summer fetes; lots of marquees with wooden tables and that strange tent/contained grass smell; lots of food stalls selling kebabs and burger and chips; a sound stage with echoing microphones, an over-large presenter and small children standing around looking shy; amateur acts of all sorts; and people dressed up in costumes seeming made out of badly dyed nylon.

And most importantly  - and making it a proper British May fete - it was pouring with rain, the ground was turning to a quagmire, and the marching band didn't look like they were going anywhere soon.

magic

Have been finding difficult to post, hence the months long gap: not quite sure what my 'voice' is/should be (which is another way of saying that I don't quite know why or what I am writing). Coming back to London is such a return to the familiar and complacent - lacking the everyday strangeness that was one of the great joys of living in Moscow - that it is easy to barely notice what is going on, or find it interesting enough to pass on.

But then. But then. Find myself (almost by accident) at theVortex in Dalston watching and listening to Ichi. And it reminds me what is brilliant about living in London. Which is that at some point most things weird, eccentric and wonderful do end up here. Ichi is a Japanese musician who arrives on stage on stilts, one of which converts into a banjo/double bass; whose central instrument is a steel drum, supported by an un-expected array of (musical) household objects and hilarious looking but beautifully sounding home-made instruments. This alternative percussion is then matched by an extraordinary voice and songs about miscellaneous nonsense ("this song  is about a toaster..") which are also gorgeous to listen to.

He is just SO of the moment; a mix up of sophistication, naivety, innovative energy, high seriousness and ironic foolishness.

And I laughed all night.

I should note that Ichi was opening for Richard Dawson, who was also has a very singular style: just so fond of folk music, however raucous or sweaty.

halloween (not)

Halloween has been and gone, with plenty of dressing up in the usual fashion (cue ghoulish laughter.) My neighbour however - who also comes in the eccentric category - chose to dress up as his former self, a teddy boy. In the original jacket he has had since his twenties. Respect. 

eccentric?

There is also a very mixed bag of people living here, as with anywhere in london, where areas seem to have their distinct personalities, but nevertheless remain (mainly) incredibly diverse. So, I have been assuming that the occupant of this flat with the vibrantly decorated balcony is a bit - eccentric.

But maybe they are merely attempting ever more extreme measures against squirrel invasion ...