Sweet Sweet South Ken

Home is a fickle little anomaly of sorts -- something of a mashing between familiar and comfortable and predictable. Little by little my London life is beginning to feel a bit more like home. I find myself missing Boston more than I expected, but I think it's just the confusion of existing in the space between two places that I've fallen in love with. I feel like I'm cheating on Boston with London and London with Boston. It's a shame I can't strap time into my sidecar and take it with me, only unbuckling it when I feel city satiated.

But, for now, this is home or something like it:

Camden Town

Yesterday some friends had an adventure to the northern part of the city. In Camden, the markets purr all day, and the punks rally when the sun goes down. We had that wonderful rush of emerging from the Underground station without even a sliver of learned anticipation. Camden was a mystery. (And with second thought, I think it might still be so) 

This is what we found:

Do You Fancy Yourself a Patriot?

The Fourth of July was the best day of all the summer days, and I'm feeling rather nostalgic. The light was the kind of light that renders skin a beautiful glowing gold and warm. Here are are my favorites.

Spring

Just some pretty things in the city, love. 

Early Spring in Photos

My words aren't working tonight. Here are some pictures instead:

Mike Lombardo Trio at TT the Bear's in Central Square. 

Lindt in the park with Laura. 

Brookline Booksmith. (I wish I bought this.)

MFA. European Old Master Paintings.

Somewhere in Harvard Square.