Thrift

Has been the theme of my week.

Watching a friend, an avid cyclist and flask carrier, tuck into a tray of sushi big enough to cover a table, i raised an eyebrow: This was incongruous Sushi=metropolitan fussy and expensive, nick(aka silent nick)=fellow student composer three years in, penniless, like we all are. "How much was that?" I ask. (My mum took me for sushi for the first time this week, and it was yum, but not cheap, so the interest was justifiable.) "Free" he says, after unwrapping each carefully packaged salmon roll and placing the pickled ginger neatly on top of each one before moving on to the wasabi and kikoman.

"Got it out of a bin" He says. Ah, and normality is restored. And now i understand. Nonetheless, I am surprised.

This goes down in London. Its known to the conoisseurs, as freeganism. To everyone else, shameless bin diving. Conceputally, its fine. "ive got five of these in the fridge, thats lunch for the week." I am shocked that 5 whole large trays of sushi could be considered by anyone to be disposeable, that anyone has got as far as going through wasabi's waste to find this out, and that homeless people in london arent giganitcally fat, and that no-one has cottoned on and isnt harvesting this stuff up on a large scale for the people who need it most. Maybe they havent twigged, its certainly a well kept secret, perhaps due to shame, perhaps just thoughtlessness, but according to my expert friends, should you change to be walking down southhampton row about 8.45, check the rubbish. Its only been rubbish for 15 minutes, so by extention of the 3 second rule, it is ofcourse, all fine. It might smell of bin liner a bit, but tts wrapped anyway. Waste not, want not.

In our beloved city, almost half of the children live beneath the poverty line, and most of those live on the same streets as some of the richest people in the world. This is a gap in the volunteering market. If i was ever to dive, I'd feel awful, I'd have won the prize which really I could have bought, I am after all the rarebreed of employed student. I'm sure theres something in this though, I'm sure something can be done to close this gaping wound in the social fabric of our city.

Elsewhere on the money saving horizon, spring happened (suddenly) and I needed new clothes, so I went shopping. In charity shops. This isnt new to me either, but to a certain class of people the shame of charity shop thrift is equitable to that of sifting through binliners in search of your next meal. I dont get why, Its so much more fun than getting battered to death by tourists in Primark. I bought the comfiest pair of sandals I've ever owned, and a leather jacket, ideal alternative to heavy winter coat, a good third of the price of the one which was not as nice that I saw in topshop. Londons got the best charity shops for largely the same reasons 50% of the food in this city ends up on pavements: people here are rich, and therefore are wasteful. Around the marble arch and notting hill areas, there are plenty of charity shops tucked behind the main roads. Also the lower end of camden high st has some good ones. Avoid oxfam, its cottoned on a bit and started stocking branded things at higher prices. Get in before the vintage shoppers add their premiums to the labels. Not to forget e-bay, for those of us short of time and out of the city. Type in exactly what you want (black velvet jaeger 80's mini dress size ten never worn made by angels touched by garry glitter...) and you'll find it withtout the adventure of going outside.

All in all, succesful week.

Excuse me whilst i lock myself in the library and forget that sunshine exists again.

Resolution Fail

Under the pressures of money, time, work and a general dislike for myself, my resolution has buckled. I'm sorry to let you down.

Its not like I haven't done anything new though. Just nothing desperately life changing.

Golders hill park is beautiful. I realised going there counts as new, even though I now go there three times a week because I work there. Its come out in colour since that thing called the sun which I'd forgotten existed re emerged. I sit in a bay window of Anna Pavlova's old house playing the piano whilst limbs fly past my eyes and watch how it makes the world alter totally just by shining in a different place and on different things.

I've been to the ballet at the Royal Opera House twice this week. If you've never been, do it. And dont start with something long and heavy, go and see the three shorts. Urban Living/Infra/Rushes is just wonderful. The first one of the three is a let down, more mime than ballet i felt, but the expression in the second two is rife, involving, vigorous, beautiful. The shapes Sarah Lamb can make you see are uninaginable, so continuous and forward moving you think they might not stop. The strength and elegance of the bodies of these people is something i hope I never cease to marvel at. If you are up for crying (and you wont be able to help yourself) go and see Romeo and Juliet. The double pas de deux is something else.

Leaving london occasionally is something everyone should do. The richness of life here makes me numb. I am tempted to lock myself in my prison cell of a bedroom and never re-emerge. But im not going to.

Also. Walk through trafalgar square in the middle of the night. Look at london when there is no particular light to look at it in, except that of the moon and the polution, and see someone else in the light of that quiet. There are some moments you just have to live for, to live in, to reach out and touch, and not whittle away with worry of the consequences.