Day 315-2 The Lost Adventures of Tuscany

It is my birthday in a couple of hours. What shall I say about it? No party organised, but a lunch at home tomorrow. I remember a couple of years ago I planned to go on holiday to Tuscany, visiting Florence, Sienna and Pizza. I had my flight ticket booked and a suit in a luxury hotel for 1st July, but half way through the planning I decided to put the money instead in Vondores. There are days when I wish I had gone instead. I should do that one day. We got the fabrics from Silk Society with Ann. We had a really great few hours with amazing sales assistants in every single shop we went to. We sat and had a coffee at Patisserie Valerie at the end and talked about relationships. Later this evening something happened and the managing of it required a huge adrenalin rush. Once I got home I shook and very nearly cried. I remember from the First Aid course, the trainer told us that the shock always comes after a situation has been dealt with. I wonder if I would be more excited about my birthday this time of the night if that hasn’t happened. All I know I would love to be able to enjoy tomorrow.

Day 314-315 Less them 3 Weeks to Go!

Last night I literally crashed into bed and went to sleep with the following thought: I should really get up, switch on my laptop and write the blog. Well, of course it never happened, the next minute I was fast asleep. I had other ‘rush-rush’ day yesterday: work from 8.30-5.30, doing my cleaning rota in the flat share, packing a box of stuff to send home and finally preparing all the kids craft for Sunday School. I should have felt pure satisfaction by midnight, once it was all over, but all I could think of was exhaustion. Izzy got up early to go to Jude’s ordination, so I started to carry on with packing. From tonight, I am officially sleeping in a ‘Mediterranean-sleeping-bag’. It is literally see-through, but I hope there won’t be any major temperature drop until I leave. We are supposed to have a ‘summery’ English Summer on the hotter end at the end of the day. The trek towel got out of its fancy holder as well and the thick one is waiting to be washed, dried and packed. 70% of my clothes are packed in one of the ‘ever-fragile’ Iceland boxes. I hope they last until they get home. I was thinking of borrowing Steve’s wheelchair to take them down to the street when the delivery guy comes. There is no parking on the market, in front of our flat, but a few hundred meters away. Huh, that is going to be one big nightmare to get all of it out of the flat. Or I might ask at church if they have anything to move stuff with. Anyway, that is really not important until I pack everything. I run out of packing tape last night. First of all, I must run over to the Indian hardware shop and get some more, before I see Ann to buy the fabrics for her evening gown. I need to pack one more box tonight and sort out my toiletries. Some of them been travelling back and forwards to Hungary so many times by now without decreasing in content, which raises the question if they are really, truly needed or not. Thank you so much for All of your amazing messages and encouragement in the last few weeks. I greatly appreciate them.

Day 313 Rush, Rush, Rush

What a day! I overslept, did my volunteer work in the crèche, run home, had lunch and freshened up, went to the shop and the bank, was off to work, said goodbye to friends over a picnic and hosted Cheese and Crackers Ladies Only at church. I haven’t done any packing or sorting stuff out for the move.

Day 312 Panic Button

Happy bride tried on the altered dress and went away with a big smile. What a good feeling! I finally managed to contact the removal company, got some boxes from Iceland and started panicking about packing. The remaining time in England is purely overwhelming. I need to fill up the boxes over the weekend and get some more. I also have to cut out an evening gown with a bolero and make the toile ready by the time I go. Huh! Plus work from Monday to Friday and volunteering on Sundays. Help!!!

Day 310-311 The Mystery of Bedtime

Monday, 8pm: I went to bed, simply couldn’t keep my eyes open. Tuesday 23:55: juts finished altering a wedding dress. I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. Good night everyone.

Day 309 Beaded Peace

More beading! I love having time for creativity. Some of the work changed urgency and I had a bit of a relaxing time in the evening. We sat in the living room and watched the England – Italy football match. I had such a sense of happiness as we doodled around with phones, kindles and beading needles. After a long time, it felt to me that the room had proper use for the community who lives in the flat. We haven’t got much chance to do this at all, as we all understands how important it is for Izzy and Will to have private space as they are preparing for their wedding. I sometimes particularly find it difficult to be sacrificial in that sense, though. After a day of hard work, I often seek and treat the security of home as a temple of peace and find it overwhelming having to share it almost every day with those who don’t live here. As Love Shack community we haven’t got much privacy, but this evening was precious to me. (I got some really good business mentoring for Vondores this afternoon.) Here is a picture of Rachel’s almost finished coaster:

Day 308 J&JW Bookmark

I am very excited about moving home. I talked to mum today and she told me about the ‘Come Home’ project initiated by the Hungarian government, encouraging young professionals living abroad to return home. This is a good sign. Still a long way to go :-) This is part of the bookmark I made for Paul this morning. I could sit here and analyse my use of colour and texture forever, but only sating that J&JW stands for Jesus and His Jewish World.

Day 306-307 Thank God It’s Friday

What a fun and tiring day at the same time. So much has happened I can’t even keep track. But finally wind down time. I very ambitiously thought I was going to have time to make a present when I get home after work, but I was totally unaware of the physical tiredness after almost 14 hours of work. As usual, am sitting here thinking I do need to get up very early to make that present otherwise I would be greatly embarrassed at the end of the last session of Jesus and His Jewish World, that there is nothing to give Paul as a say thank you present. He has been coming to teach us once a month for free. I better go to bed and post tomorrow what I made. That would be helpful to be accountable with waking up for the alarm.

Day 304-305 Creative Seeds

London as all big cities is a tough place to survive. Sometimes we sit opposite to our friends at the dinner table and as much as we want to say something very positive and encouraging to lift them up the best we can do is just listen and keep quite. There is no easy answer for why things don’t always work out the way we want them to, but rather the way they are supposed to, which creates disappointment. And it is not a modern phenomenon. Not only creative people have been struggling for centuries with finances. This is little or no help to one who finds one’s creativity behind the bars of the ruthless prison guards of daily struggles: making enough money to pay rent and eat. I know this myself. I have designed the Vondores logo more than 10 years ago. It took me 10 years in education from the first interior design course to Masters in fashion, 6 years working full-time in retail during university and many years of cleaning jobs and Au-Pairing before that. And finally, I am able to take a year out to pursue writing and designing. It was tough. It didn’t come easy. The only observation I could have shared over the dinner table about living in London however truthful it is would not have resulted in understanding the root of the problem: financial struggle versus safety net. One who has no support of family or savings to fall back on has to keep a full-time job here. It is simple as that and we can’t ignore this, but hope that the time will finally come when we can pour our creative seeds out.

Day 302-303 ‘Summer’ Secret Santa

Time flies by! Can anybody stop it for a bit, please? I need to catch up with a few things. Packing is very slow, but amazingly I found some stuff I totally forgot about. For example: Christa’s Secret Santa from our Mission Year team. I was terribly late with it to start with, because of Monsieur Thesis, but I definitely had no intention to hang onto it until June the following year. This is indeed a somewhat embarrassing situation. We had a £5 budget each and I decided to get a long sleeve T-Shirt at the local market for £1 and do some hand beading on it to jazz it up. I’ve done the embellishment on one of the shoulders this evening and hoping to do the next one tomorrow. Here is a photo to prove that actually it is on the way.

Day 301 Five Weeks to Go

Finally, all back to normal and the hectic blessings of the last 5 weeks can begin. I start to think the best thing could have happened is that forced-break by the misunderstanding between my stomach and its contents. I am well-rested and fully recovered! I made the mistake of making dinner plans for tomorrow and realising later, that I would desperately need that time for design work. Coming to the end of this frantic-style studying-working life I am finally learning to recognize that my priorities are not on the top notch at all. I shouldn’t have made friends priority, when I have a client, whom I haven’t shown the drawings yet, because I wasn’t well. I might as well start banging my head on the wall and resist even the idea of having someone around or make an apologetic phone call and pull out. It is hard to squeeze work, packing, duties and people in five weeks, without having to favour one over the other. And when reality hits home work comes first, because I have no idea what I am going to live off once I move, but I can always call friends or send them a message.

Day 298-300 The Sea of Life

Being sick makes you realize how differently people react to your misery. You comfort with a ‘don’t worry’ the one, who honestly tells you, how match she wants to help, but she is too scared to catch your bug and shoots of to work laving you aching in every cell. The other gets excited to change your hours and wanting it to know you can do it straight away, but you can’t even think about what’s going to happen in three days’ time. All you can concentrate on if you can get to the bathroom on time, without having to clean the carpet afterwards. And there are others on the other end of the phone, who reassure you to let them know if you need anything. And you wish for a cup of tea, but haven’t got the energy to hold a conversation and you say no. And after the ordeal, the lack of sleep echoes the strain of sickness on your body in your head and back and you think it is never going to end. I kept myself awake the whole time, to be in charge for anything wanting to come out and the night couldn’t have been more graphic. I watched many films and documentaries to pass the time and keep my mind off the pain. I had to cancel work and meetings with clients, which is not ideal only 5 weeks before I move. Suddenly everything is getting rather frantic. I need to pack to be able to get a quote from the removal company. I also need to make my mind up what to take home and what not, what to pack already and leave for last minute. Even to the extent of what shoes to wear on graduation, the black Tamaris ankle boots, the red stilettoes or the wide fitted pointy black ones with tiny heels which would be the safest option. Talking about safe options, I wonder how many of us can kid ourselves to prove the benefits of safe options when we get to the stage that nothing else matters, just memories. Creating memories, I find is more underestimated on our lists, than its benefits for our future wellbeing. I myself have been one of the great traitors of memory-creation by constantly being addicted to the things I once thought carried great importance such as the popularity of the family I come from, my education, my job and status in life. And I shamefully have to admit now it took me very long years to start practicing apologetics towards my parents, my school, my village, my country, the English society and even my university. I have robbed myself of many happy moments of memory creation in the process of being dissatisfied by my very own expectation of myself and those around me. God has taught me to look for the value He created in each one of us and never judge. That is why I smile with a tender heart at the one who didn’t want to catch my sickness and the one who wanted to change my hours. They are both amazing people and they all sail with me in our slowly evaporating bubbles in this incredible and enormous sea of life. And YES, it is 300 days of blogging!

Day 297 Chasing the Drawings

Of course, I didn't get up at 6am, but around 7 and still needed time to start the morning routine. I did do some research and designs around 8, though. I even carried my drawing kit with me in the morning in case I was going to have a few minutes to do more. Of course, it didn't happen. And left it at home in the afternoon and now I have plenty time on my hands, but no pen and paper. Maybe I should cherish this evening and rejoice in quite this time. God bless babysitting!

Day 296 Design Vondores

I am determined to get up 6am tomorrow morning to do design a dress for an amazingly encouraging client. It is a fuchsia dress with gold embellishment for a Congolese wedding.

Day 295 Tribute

Saturday afternoon: ‘I just got the news a couple of hours ago, that one of my classmates from grammar school committed suicide. We went to the same primary school and set next to each other on the Russian classes. I remember once we were asked to say our mother's name in Russian. When it came to his term, he said at that moment he couldn't remember. He got booed out by many, but I remember thinking how extraordinary it was of him to admit it, without any shame or embarrassment. Later on in grammar school where he was in the maths specialist class while I did English, I saw him many times reading maths questions and told the result without much thinking. I remember someone saying g once it was pure luck. I think he was smarter than any of us, but not following the rigour of maths solutions slipped though the recognition web.’ It's been busy again, rushing around, holding anger back, trying to analyse anxiety and relapses of sadness for many reasons. But the sun is shining through the clouds.

Day 292-294 Proof

The idea of creativity is the proof of the existence of our being. Nevertheless, the idea itself grows and collapses as we pass through stages of positive and negative attributes of creating value. The value itself however cannot be determined by a given measure. The relationship between the value and its creator what gives the substantial proportion of the quality and quantity of success. A note to the Addressee: it doesn’t matter how talented one is, if one is afraid of investing in one’s creativity, which can be measured in success, the creativity loses its value before gaining it. Success is determined by any positive attributes of physical, financial, emotional and spiritual growth. A note for myself: I Am the Addressee.

Day 291 Working Class Hero

We listened to Marianne Faithfull after dinner. We discussed business and all sorts what made my heart leap…

Day 290 “Happy-Society”

What a day! Finally did some of the alterations around 4pm. I went to bed 3am last night and slept until 3pm this afternoon. I had some dreadful nightmares and tried to find out what triggered the low. Apparently I wasn’t the only one, who had an unwelcomed roller coaster ride during the Jubilee weekend. I was so looking forward to the BBQs and the picnic, but I just dwelled in the raindrops as I let my days off to soak. I am actually really looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. I set with Janoska & Dincike around the dining table this afternoon and shared my state. And as we talked I slowly felt better and better and by the time my dinner guests arrived, I was almost back to my normal self. First rule: talk about it with people who are genuinely interested in my well-being. I think our society has lost the aesthetics of feeling low. We no more dare to seek the value of that state in the “Happy-Society”, which imposes our weaknesses on us as soon as we engage with the authenticity of lowness.

Day 289 Fossilized Starfish or The Encounter with an Incredibly Low Day

No more stopping the rain caressing the shadows on the lanterns. I stand in the dark and wait for the night. It comes slowly, sheepishly creeping into the light. I turn and cry. And the lanterns above silently. No more stopping the rain… I’m pushing back the whole lot, begging them not to break out. Heavy burdens to carry I know, but have no memory of being light. It is dark, the floorboard creeks as I turn, falling into thousands pieces I forgot how to fly… Thoughts of doubt is chasing the streets, desperately scratching my arms as I slip away. Dragging me into that barn, the smell of old hay is heavy with weed, suffocating me, my shaking hand and the voices hunting me. It’s my own voice I cry and run away. Falling on my knees and pray. ‘Help!’

Day 286-288 The Mystery of Curves & The Fashion of Society

It is the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee and raining. After 2 weeks of wonderful sunshine, it is just like the perfect English summer, gloomy and wet. We had a picnic in the church instead of the park and had to cancel the community open air party. Thank God for not having pews in our church, all of us were sitting on the floor sharing the delicious finger food we all brought. Well, I didn’t take anything as I was going to rush home for our party after KidsChruh. Instead, I slammed my diet on the face, poor little soul and ended up eating masses of crisps, cakes and drinking fizzy drinks. I set on the sofa in those lovely jeans I got from a friend and pretended as long as I could, that the button, wasn’t digging into my stomach. The more I ate the more painful it got and by the end of the picnic my morning-glory-joy of squeezing myself into the wonder pants fringed out in one massive feeling of being squashed up to the top of my head. I seriously felt that not only below the waist but up above I was wearing spacesuit-jeans made out of concrete in a couple of size smaller than I should have had. However, I am still impressed that I spent 9 hours in size 28! Yes, I know the power of small numbers on the inside labels are incredible overrated, what’s more seemed to be worshiped by many. But I must confess, in this lovingly priceless moment of reality my size 32 waist is gratefully breathing freely in my comfi sweatpants and tries to forget about the shock of jubilee squash. This whole being concerned about my size was exaggerated on Wednesday in a spilt of a second. As I was walking to work I concluded, I was content with my weight and even though some of my trousers didn’t fit any more, I was happy to acknowledge it was better to be that way than skinny and depressed, like I was a couple of years ago. My happiness however was rather short lived. I was wearing an empire line dress, whilst chaperoning a toddler to the playground, when someone asked me if I was expecting. My red alert suddenly started to beep very loudly around my waist and stomach. I thought, O no people actually can see that I put on wait. (Of course, they do, they do have eyes, like I do). The next morning I went for a run and decided not to eat in between meals. Well, I did today and indeed yesterday. If God made us all for His image, beautiful, smart and valuable, why do we find it so difficult not to be taken on a ride by the fashion of society?