Two events this week; two weeks of university remain.
As the exam season peaks, invaluable opportunities seem to increase ten-fold. It’s a troubling, yet brilliantly optimistic period for me to be me; two important exams loiter close-by, and all I feel for doing, is throwing myself to the winds of enterprise and employment. I must prioritize, but this is a skill yet to establish itself in my cognitive meanderings – may I reiterate, ‘yet’ to establish.
Monday saw the opening of an exhibition in Super Superficial, Covent Garden. Dear Diary was the title, and down the stairs and into the basement, white-washed walls played host to a plethora of diaries and diary entries – from the notable Sylvia Plath and Kurt Cobain, to the unsung champions of Kenyan slums. It was most definitely an immersive collection of experience and raw memory – both light-hearted, and heart-wrenching.
Thursday was a night to remember, and for many of the readers who took part, a night that would see them relocated to detached pasts – recalling former loves, hates, and antics. Hoxton Hall, in all its Victorian grandeur, was the venue, and the likes of Henry Holland, Alexa Chung, and Suede’s Brett Anderson and many others were the participants. It was an evening of hysterics, palatable humiliation and some really quite introspective pondering.
Monday’s photos will be up soon.