06.30 SENTIMENTAL X'S

I'll try not to drown you in sentiment, in reminiscence or otherwise in too many words. But today marks the end of this project, the "photoblog" I launched three years ago as both 1) an an exercise in writing, as I was set to move to the UK to study journalism, and 2) a means of keeping you up to date on my adventures here.

The adventures soon transformed into the banalities of everyday life, and I hope that I've managed at least to keep the ordinary days interesting and to draw in some of the remarkable people and places I've encountered. But the lesson I learnt in my first attempt at photo journaling was that, indeed, it is often the most ordinary things that are worth capturing.

I called the blog 'Three-Sixty-Six' because it was intended to span the year from 1 July 2007 through to 30 June 2008, which encompassed the leap year on Feb 29 2008; however, I managed in the course to create a 'leap year' of a new form by first breaking my camera in early 2008 and then falling off the wagon in 2009 with too much on my plate to keep up the blog. In both instances, picking up where I had left off one year later. As a result, the blog spans 1) from my last summer in Canada, through my first semester at Nottingham Trent Uni, 2) then leaps to my working life in London a year later covering about two months to my visit to the countryside in Devon, and finally 3) leaps a second time to this spring and summer culminating today.

Appropriately, today's blog brings things full circle. Broken Social Scene, famed Torontonian indie band and mini orchestra on stage, are performing in the UK. I got tix along with a handful of friends, coincidentally a largely Canadian posse representing Vancouver, Montreal, Toronto and, of course, Windsor. In considering my company this evening, and the friends I have met here in the UK, the places I've travelled and lessons learned, I begin to find some understand the BSS debut album title, and one of my all time favourites, Feels Good Lost.

Over and out.
XX (those are hugs, not kisses, mind you, and sentimental nonetheless)

06.29 REFLECTION

The penultimate session in oil paints, and I actually feel like I've gained some skill and confidence in the art. The challenge today was not the lemon, or the garlic - no, I mastered that weeks ago! Instead, it is in the reflection in the silver bottle that stands tall behind the produce.

It's one of those that you need to stand (a barely perceptible distance) back from to appreciate, but that is hopefully good enough to ornament my parents kitchen or dining room wall one day.

Not only is this the second-to-last session in, but this is also the penultimate photo in this journal, which leaves me to reflect on more than just the reflection on the canvas.

06.28 FLAT HUNT

Three summers ago, when I was looking to move to the UK to study, Maddy replied to an email in which I had inquired about a room in a shared property in Nottingham. She was candid in her reply and mentioned that she preferred flat shoes to heels and a cocktail at a jazz bar to a rockin' night out. As it happens, she does on occasion where heels and can party like a rock star, but my guess (with Casey's corroboration) at the time was correct: that we'd get on like a house on fire (NB: that's not a reference to the time I forgot the boiling egg on the stove and nearly burnt down our pad on Premier Road).

Three years on, we're living together and looking to find a flat for the two of us, as our current threesome is sadly breaking up. What we have learnt after a few days of flat hunting is that the market is a mess for people like us, looking to rent. Changes to the Capital Gains Tax instilled by the new Conservative-LibDem coalition has prompted owners to sell and a proportion of the property that would otherwise be available for rent is now on for purchase. Lots of people flat hunting and not enough flats to let means prices are jacked and turnaround is swift - in one case from my experience, gone within one hour.

And this is why today we were shuttled around town by various agents to flats, apartments, estates and even developments like this one - the foundation barely laid. Here's hoping we find something, and find something we love. A place where two flat-shoed, cocktail sipping, kitchen-bound busybodies plus one hamster can call home for a while.

06.27 KNOCKOUT

Spot of shopping in the city, the intention being that most would be hitting the parks, the BBQs and watching England's knockout game against Germany at prime time, leaving the stores vacant but for a few indefferent female shopaholics.

That said, I don't actually fall into that demographic, which I would imagine mainly comprises women under 19. At heart, I was curious about the game, not just the outcome, but the action. While I did indeed get to the shops, I took an intermission to nip into a pub (albeit a touristy one) off of Oxford Circus to watch amidst a mixed crowd of foreigners and locals, with a half-pint in hand.

I was happy to lurk in the backdrop as England got smoked by their opponents, favoured to win just the same. In the end, the crowd shuffled out, heads hanging, while I enthusiastically resumed my tour of the mid-season sales.

06.26 THE OTHER WINDSOR

I felt a bit like a tourist today. Cycled to Windsor - the other Windsor - with the club. Covering over 60 km and holding 28-32 clicks most of the way, I was knackered once we reached the shop for a pick-me-up ice cream and cuppa in the middle of the Royal Park.

There was a funny sentiment about being in a place which my hometown is named after. I though of my home, off of Queen Elizabeth Road, which intersects with another street called Lloyd George (who I thought was a rock star, until I was at least 9 years old).

The Royal Park was huge, with shaded, hilly paves, a 5000 acre deer park and a wide-open space for Polo, where a few joggers were doing laps. We passed the equestrian statue of George III, overlooking Windsor Castle - beautiful view although it was difficult to take in as we were whizzing past at a quick pace.

After cake, most of the crew cycled on another 30 k to Clapham, and a few of us went into town to catch a train back, where I got a close-up view of the castle and a feel for the quaint touristy Windsor that in no way resembles my home town, apart from the namesake.

06.25 ART IN THE PARK

Walking into work, and I spot an woman with easel and a palette in hand. She is painting the fountain and foliage on Clapham Common. Her work is patient, relaxing to watch even. A moment's respite before I carry on my hustle to the tube and into work.

It reminds me of Art in the Park, the annual festival of crafts and creative works at Willistead Manor in Windsor. Casey and I were enthusiasts and loved to spin ideas off of the work we saw there, thinking 'I could make that''. But, then, I rarely put my word to the test.

That said, my recent endeavours in oil painting could sell for a few bucks at a stand...? Well, maybe a family member or friend would make a purchase, like the occasion over 20 years ago, when I spent an entire afternoon trying to sell painted rocks in my front yard, and made 5 sympathy cents off of Elvio, who lived across the street. All in the eye of the beholder.

06.24 BACKYARD

Nearly forgot a photo today. Had a quiet one in, pensive. The 24th and, in hindsight, that's probably why. Spoke with my parents on the phone, who were bimbling in the garden as usual. Inspired me to take in the vista that is my backyard too, albeit not as green and invigorating as my parents. Instead, our terrace overlooks a schoolyard, which, thankfully, has quieted for the summer. I'm rarely home in the week, and when I have been the incessant hollaring is a contraceptive in its own right. It's pleasant at times, but mostly just annoying. Tonight, peace. But somehow the quiet disturbs me. Just one of those days.

06.23 ENGLAND IN

It's England's third game in the qualifying rounds of the World Cup, against Algeria. Conveniently, my company has hosted a staff barbecue. So my work day ended around 2 pm, soon after the Pimms was poured and the chicken skewers came off the grill. I've become a follower and fan of the football - not the most enthusiastic and passionate among them, since its more of an acquired and temporary interest in the sport. It's the atmosphere - its contagious. The kitchen and patio were packed and the office floors empty as everyone watched with eagerness, then angst, then celebration as England defeated their oponents and made it to the knockout rounds.

06.22 PLATEAU

Just a few weeks of tuition to go, and I still can't figure out the jug. I've hit a plateau with this. Its always the jug or vase or bowl that throws me. Must be the transluscence. I need ceramic, not glass, maybe? This one was going quite well, and in the final minutes, I decided to add some depth with a few quick strokes in white to emphasize the shape of the bowl of the jug. It wasn't until I stepped back. Err. Well...the garlic looks alright.

06.21 CANOE

This is what I call a canoe. Not a kayak - although the English get these confused. I love to paddle, and I ensured that we spend some time this weekend off our feet and on the water. So, we spent our last two hours in the Lake District on the longest lake in the country - Windermere. Paddling about, with the Cumbrian mountains in the backdrop, skimming the peripheries to enjoy the nuances of the shoreline. Dan up front while I happily took the back seat to practice my J and C strokes. Frequent breaks for biscuits and crisps, and just to take in the scene. So much fun, and one of the highlights of the weekend. It has been a perfect holiday.

06.20 STRIDING EDGE

After a hearty breakfast of kippers and roast tomatoes, Dan and I set off to tackle the third highest peak in England, at 950 m - Helvellyn. With a vague map of the route in hand, we departed the lakeside town of Glenridding, beginning our climb, trying to discern one way from another by the vague instruction on our 80 p map from the tourist information centre that provided 'estimated walk duration' instead of distance travelled. Useless. We meandered our way to the first peak, which marked the beginning of our stretch along Striding Edge, the narrow toothy arete you see pictured - birds eye view as I perched alongside the drop from Helvellyn itself. We sat for lunch and considered Striding Edge once more, as there was an alternate route to Helvellyn via Swirrel Edge; but we could see people forging ahead along the arete and figured, hey, no problem. Indeed, it proved to be one of the toughest and frightening feats I've accomplished. Without a clear map of the Edge we relied on walkers ahead, some clearly more experienced, to determine the best route along. While Dan and I clambered carefully, trembling and clinging to every rock for our lives, regulars on the summit strolled passed casually as if there wasn't a several hundred foot drop below them. We reached a tipping point when I found myself scrambling down a vertical overhanging a drop and then descending in front of the final 200 m climb which looked as though it had suffered a recent avalanche. Seriously. At least the fallen rocks provided somewhat of a staircase, or at least plenty of options for grips and holds. In the end, we stuck nearer the grassy ledges, however, as they seemed more secure than the loose piles of rock. An orange strip of warning fence marked the top of the climb, - we made it, and were welcomed by a spectacular panorama of mountain tops, lakes and patches of forest under a mid afternoon haze - amazing - and a hungry sheep who tried to nip my raisins and peanuts! A few shots to prove we were there and a moment's rest to stop our knocking knees. Instead of descending via Swirell Edge we avoided another scramble and took Lower Helvellyn which probably added a good couple miles to the route - but we're endurance athletes after all and not rock climbers. (But we were today.)

06.19 JENGA

Whiling some time at a local bar/pub before dinner at one of the four Lucy's joints in Ambleside.

Dan's first go at Jenga. I win first game. He decides we should go for best of three. Fair enough. But it's my disadvantage: I'm drinking 13% malbec whereas he's drinking some girly 4% elderflower cider. Our competitive streak surface. A bit of bending of the rules here and there. Nevertheless, we both have butterfingers tonight.

I don't actually remember losing but I don't think I won. Must have been the wine. Or the hunger. Or the really terrible pop music in the background.

06.18 ROAD TRIP

Yes, that's rain on the driver-side window. But only just because we're in the Black Country (the heavily industrialised region of the West Midlands) We're en route to Ambleside, making a(nother) pitstop as I've fallen into a vicious cycle of coffee-loo-coffee-water-loo.

I'm the navigator, since I'm the passenger; but Dan put his serious face on to peg where we are and where we're going. Thankfully in this case, we have a map, and aren't relying on his vague scribblins on a piece of paper to figure where we're going, like our cycle to Brighton a few weeks back.

Indeed, so far the drive has been stress free, apart from a few traffic jams, and the usual London traffic (2 hours to get out of the city!). Thankfully, we were well stocked for a long journey after yesterday's shop and appeased our restlessness with wine gums, not to mention Dan's inexhaustive iPod playlist (although he did let me play a bit of my limited selection).

280 miles in 7.5 hours. At least the sun was out. And we made it in time for the football.

06.17 STOCKING UP

You'd think we were driving across the country. Oh, wait, we practically are, only England is just a fraction of my native land and a cross-country drive is like a trip up the 401. Like from Windsor, say, to the Muskokas.

We're going to the Lake District, national parkland and home of the Cumbrian Mountains, for a weekend of ambling, rambling and paddling in the countryside.

But first things first and to be certain we get there stock full of energy for the weekend's walks we're stocking up on food for the drive up. Enough to feed a carload, but its just the two of us. We deliberate juice flavours for a few minutes, contemplate wasabi peas then pass, don't hesitate over wine gums, and land some Reggae Reggae nuts just because we're curious. We've soon overloaded the basket with (mostly) healthy snacks and some crap. Sorted.

06.16 MAXIMALIST

I'd like to say I'm a minimalist. I can be, when I have to be. Like when I'm packing for air travel and am limited to 25 kg of shoes, shirts and toiletries, and shoes. Although I always tip the scale with that extra pair of knickers.

Given the luxury of travel by car, I let go of any inhibitions, dumping my contents into a weekender, a duffle bag a pack and two purses. Embarrassing, particularly as this is an outdoorsy adventurous expedition. I should be able to roll and squeeze everything I need into a 15 litre lightweight pack, right?

But the knickers. They just take up so much space.

06.15 GOLDEN RATIO

The objective today was to identify and consider the 'Golden Ratio'. In maths and the arts, this refers the innately aesthetically pleasing divide of an object or image equating to approximately 1.6. We simultaneously attempted to reframe our view, closing in on the still life to draw in parts of objects and adding a dimension of abstractness (I'm a natural at this...) to the painting. Coupling the two tasks was difficult, and I'd already drawn the image by the time instruction was laid out; the end result, what you perhaps might call a 'Bronze' Ratio, portions of a pot and an apple, and an oversized melon smack in the centre of the foreground. Getting there.

06.14 QUIET TIME

Busy week ahead at work. I'm taking holiday time on Friday and Monday which means scrambling to get work off my desk, while sacrificing lunch breaks and evening hours to keep my head above water. (Holiday? Is it really worth it?)

Took 10 to meander midmorning to the churchyard nearby the office. A quick breather before an extended session strapped to the desk, churning through paperwork, emails and meetings. Not a single person on the benches just yet, where often seating is 'grass' room only.

Might just make a habit of the breakfast break.

06.13 PRODUCTIVE IDLENESS

I'm terrible at relaxing. To make matters worse, a few hours break to myself seems rare these days. When I do block of some time, I turn geekish and read; but I've grown restless and lately seem to fill my free time with chores, errands and tasks that seem 'productive'. I've managed to break down reading into a chapter-by-chapter objective which gives it a sense of productiveness. Productive idleness. Whatever works. I threw a blanket down on the common, then threw myself on the blanket with a coffee and my book and met my quota of non-fiction done for the day. Would have read the paper, but front pages were splattered with accounts of last night's England-US game, and I've certainly met my quota of football for the weekend.

06.12 SOCCERBALL

What exactly do you call the game when the US are playing the UK? Certainly when the UK are playing terribly and the US are pulling their socks up, the game we call it is 'soccer'.

06.11 MAKE DUE

It's nearly midnight. Clock strikes twelve and this project turns into a pumpkin. For lack of a more promising photo opportunity, and for lack of time, I make due with this photo of Dan, in the kitchen, piecing together brie and toast with tomatoes for a late-night snack after a few drinks a the pub in Old Town. Making due with whatever bits and pieces we could scrounge from my pantry.

It'll do.

06.10 BUSINESS LUNCH

'Business' being a catch-up and the usual spot of gossip (instigated by my eager probing). My lunch date, alias 'Jags', works just over the bridge, and we decided to hook up for tapas, adventurously delving into a portion of lamb shanks and a helping of rabbit stew, while securing ourselves with a guaranteed pleaser (unless you're downwind of an exhaled belch) - the sizzling garlic prawns. (He doesn't like goats cheese. Bugger.)

Was a nice break in the day and good to see a running mate out of Clapham, out of spandex and out of context (either huffing it around Battersea or post run at the pub)...

06.09 ONE WEEK

Post! (Mail!) It's always so exciting to receive! I was expecting a package from my sis, and was nevertheless surprised to find its contents, a film called One Week by director Michael McGowan (of Saint Ralph fame) and starring Joshua Jackson.

I introduced Clair to Saint Ralph (for once, a film I had seen that she hadn't!). She loved it and went on to watch the director's more recent work, promising it is 10x improved. I'm sure I'll love it, but admit I have a soft spot for the story of a boy who wants to win the Boston Marathon, filmed in my university town of Hamilton. Not to mention One Week is a rather dark plot, surely a thoughtful tearjerker, about a man with just that much time to live.

Am itching to see this, and go back and revisit Saint Ralph to appreciate the directors style and development. All I need is a rainy day...(surprisingly few and far between these days in London)

06.08 COLOUR COORDINATION

Session seven. Last week was a midterm break and I feel I've already taken a few steps back in terms of technique. I approach the drawing with confidence, and get going with the colourful apple on the table in the foreground. Hints of ripening red blend into the pale yellow, and a hint of green around the stem. Not easy to master. Looks more like I've painted a pinwheel of colours.

The jug in the background I had nailed, but then decided to dabble just as the class was wrapping up, leaving me scrambling to sort it out at the last minute and resulting in what looks like a green-blue balloon with a rectangle jutting out the top end. I tried. We've done this jug before, or one that is similarly translucent and therefore difficult to blend, and it remains my nemesis.

06.07 PINE CONE

It's not an acorn. Nope. It's a pine cone. I should know these things. A senior moment - or perhaps a sign I've been living in the city too long.

Maddy is diligent, careful, outlining the scales of the cone, rubbing in the shadows and blending in the shape. It's a handmade gift card, which I hope the recipient appreciates. Her medium is charcoal, a messy option, and her fingers are blackened by it.

I'm not sure why she chose the pine cone as her subject for the drawing. I don't know much about cones, so googled. Surprise - the cone is an organ and contains the reproductive structures of the pine - releasing seeds! (I'll be an expert on this in just a few more google searches). The female cone is the most distinguishable, and is often used to recognize species of trees. The one on our dining table must be a chick.

It's also just an attractive subject for a drawing I suppose.

06.06 CUPCAKES

Day off (But for a half our interview prep for a magazine article I'm working on). With my 2010 New Year's resolution in mind (yes, I've lasted longer than 2 weeks, becoming an anomoly rather than a statistic...), I set out to grab a coffee and the Sunday paper. I wandered down Lavendar Hill until I hit a convenience shop (what do they call them here again...mental block. It'll come...*) that sold the paper (you'd think they'd all stock Sunday's...?). Reading material in hand (plus supplement celebrating 50 years of the pill. Power to women. Woo!), I set out for one of two new cafes in the neighbourhood, meandering past, then dipping into another new shop - a bakery and cakery - where I picked up a few cupcakes for the flatmates. Never been a fan, but in this case, I do wish I had bought three.

*(Aha! The word is Off-licence, as in, a premisis that sells alochol but where alcohol cannot be drunk on the vendor's premisis, unlike an on-licence, for example, a pub). Leaves me wondering what you call a 'convenience store' that doesn't sell alcohol at all...a non-license? I dunno.

06.05 PICNIC

Bottle of imported icewine and a feast of cold cuts, meat pies, crusty bread, and more cheeses than I can take in. Dan puts on his serious face as he preps the meal. Down to work slicing that loaf. A relaxing picnic on the common (but for the snarling dog invading Dan's comfort zone). The sun is setting and the air is still, calm, calming. We dust the crumbs off the blanket (think scene after a cookie monster raid, hold the cookies, replace with crackers) and recline after a hefty indulgence. Perfect. Content. Happy.

06.04 LUNCH BREAK

I've taken to going for walks on my lunch breaks, an effort to stretch the back and legs after hours at the desk. Ambitious on this scorching afternoon, I made it as far as Spitalfields near Liverpool Street, taking in the scene of the city grind along the way. Not such a grind at this hour. Constructions workers lined up in the shade under their scaffolding much on sandwiches, people-watching with a curiosity that suggests the view from ground level is a novelty. A churchyard spotted with city workers, lounging on the lawn, catching some sun. Business folk enjoying a pint outside overflowing pub doors.

Relaxing. The sun has this effect.

06.03 MAN AND FIRE

There is something primal, and amusing, that emerges when men barbecue. An element of wind and a two-foot flame consumes their dinner. Panic. A few grunts. Team effort. Fire is under control. Sausage and burgers are excusably charred, but cooked perfectly, of course, on the inside.

06.02 RICHMOND RELAYS

Love a good relay race. The Thames Hare & Hounds running club hosted the annual Richmond Park Relays this afternoon. Proved a nice change of pace to the usual Wednesday workout at Battersea.

Men's teams of four and women's teams of three (under the principle that we run slower, and thus will take longer to finish. Harumph) circuit a 3.1 mile undulating loop (that nemesis of a hill that still haunts me from the xc season included in the course!)around the park.

My team included Sarah and Cass as second and third runners and I took off first with the pack. We set off at an alarming quick speed, probably in the 'its merely 3 miles' spirit of a group of runners mostly training half-mar and longer distances. Proved rather excruciating, but the pain was over (relatively) quick, considering the miles I've been putting in of late.

All in a hard day's work.

06.01 TURKEY PIE

It's a cold and rainy night so I thought I'd rustle up some comfort food. Homemade potato and fennel cream soup and my first-ever attempt at a meat pie - turkey and veg in a made-from-scratch pastry (cold hands are, well, handy on occasion).

Proved a success, and won me points with the boyfriend. The easiest way to a man's heart...