I already wrote about my birthday. There isn't much to add, apart perhaps from a few more photos of the Divinity School or the exhibition at the Weston Library. One thing I didn't say before was that at the Weston, in the big atrium that is between the cafe and the exhibition spaces, there was a small exhibit about English country dances, complete with a pocket fiddle, a series of books with sheet music and dance instructions, and even a few QR codes through which one could listen to the dances. It was pretty cool.. Especially for a girl who may or may not have tried the steps from that Purcell dance from Pride and Prejudice alone in her room, a few times 😊
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| Exhibition about English country dances... |
That day, at choir, we sang hymn 598 from the book of common prayer, which felt particularly serendipitous seeing as that was my number back in school. I could be wrong, but I believe that's one of the hymns we did at Coventry Cathedral last year, during Easter break and it is a hymn that awakens in me some respect for the beauty inspired by religion. There are some verses in it that never fail to capture my heart, such as:
"For the love of God is broader than the measures of man's mind
(...)
But we make his love too narrow, by false limits of our own"
William of Baskerville told his pupil Adso, that of the love of women, Tomas Aquinas knew precious little. I can say the same thing, about how much I know of the love of God. But it seems to me that love in general is an emotion whose limitless is constantly at odds with most people's ability to experience the world. And I would say that most make it too narrow, with false limits of their own. Which is why perhaps, for one who experiences things with the intensity of paper-and-ink characters those verses hit so powerfully. And, regardless of how little sense religion makes to my mind, I can appreciate how people would want to think themselves loved by a creator whose strictness is a mirage of their minds, and why they would feel comfort by thinking about heaven as a place of redemption and joy. As the hymn goes: "There is plentiful redemption in the blood that has been shed; there is joy for all the members in the sorrows of the Head."
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| My new favourite study spot in town. |
The week after that was busy. I have been struggling with the amount of projects I have to manage simultaneously, and this week in particular, no matter how long I worked - or how many projects and activities I had to give up on, however painful - work seemed like being lost in an ocean, with no shores in the horizon. That being said, I still managed to have some fun. Because it was Halloween, I dressed as a vampire twice, and the costume looked amazing. On Tuesday I went to my first murder mystery dinner, which also turned out to be a lot of fun (despite the Martian!). And that morning I had my termly singing lesson with David, which I always look forward to, because he's a sweet guy who never fails to make me feel like I am not a lost cause.
There are little things that have started to consolidate themselves as part of the routines that I am trying to build for my life here. Such as studying at the Oxford Union's Library on Wednesday, pausing for lunch at the Burrito place across the street and walking by Arcadia to check the books on display outside. That's a second hand bookshop at St. Michael's street, and they always have a great display of editions from the 70s and 80s, often skewed towards sci fi and fantasy which fall right on my alley. I found a copy of Blackburn's Think for £4, which hurt a little, since I payed over R$80 for that book a couple of years ago. But now that Arcadia is part of my week, I am sure I am bound to find some unexpected presents there from time to time.
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| The view as soon as we entered the fair. It reminds me of going to the circus which shall always be one of my favourite things to do... |
My week ended this Saturday, when I went to the firework display for Bonfire Night, at South Park, and that was awesome. I had such a good time, it was easily the best night I had all year. I went on a few rides, which I hadn't done in years, and had a footlong hotdog before watching a 20+ minute long firework display, to the sound of great music. Then, when it seemed like it was all over, the bonfire was lit, and whoever was the guy manning the sound station did a great job selecting a fire-related playlist that included Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire and Jerry Lee Lewis' Great Balls of Fire.
The day had already been pretty great. After a particularly difficult Friday, in which I went to the movies to watch something that turn out not to be so good (Five Nights and Freddy's), Saturday was a day of writing. I wasn't writing anything important. Just a couple of fanfics, neither of which will ever see the light of day. It wasn't about that. It was about my feeling inspired to write those scenes, with those characters, and doing it, just because. Six thousand words flowed out of my fingers before I had to leave to meet a friend for hot chocolate before the fireworks, and it felt great. Felt like me. There is nothing I like better than spending time with my favourite characters, and making the things that are in my mind real, like real words on a real page. Something that could be read by another. Even if it won't.
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| Dare to be scared: The Meteorite, in which we were held, as you can see, by not very much. |
At the bonfire, I thought about many things. How awesome it felt to be spinning at full speed several metres above the ground, held by little more than centripetal force and a poor excuse for a containment rope. How much the feeling of my feet dangling in the wind felt like that time I went skydiving all those years ago. How perfect it was to listen to someone singing "I've got a feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night," when those were exactly the words in my heart... And how much I have to be thankful for. Like a Bajoran burning her renewal scroll in the fires of the Gratitude Festival, I imagined all of the troubles of the recent past burning away along with the wood that collapsed onto itself on that fire, until nothing remained. Nothing, but an awareness of how much I have to be grateful for. Last week I had a friend come to my new house to hang out, and help me make this new room feel like a home. This week, I had a friend by my side as I went on rides and watched fireworks that would have made Stach of Katoren proud. Life is good right now... It is so very different from what it was last year. And for one night at least, I don't wanna think about love that was lost, opportunities that were missed, hugs that never happened and friendships that will never be... The long summer is finally over, I came out the other end, and I'm still breathing.
And as good as everything is, a part of me is certain, the best is yet to come.
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