While in London the girls and I were walking through the city and stumbled upon this graveyard. At first glance it was just locks entangled in ribbons linked onto a fence, we had no idea what we were looking at really. Then this lady showed up and I tried to ask her what it was all about, she told me to follow her, so we did. We ended up getting an exclusive tour around this graveyard that seldom gives tours. This graveyard ended up being a place of burial for those who would not have had any other place to go, it was mainly prostitutes and the poor. The site went uncharted for years, until they started digging for the Tube, when they unearthed the bodies; they were unsure what to do. Then an organization bloomed and saved the graveyard and is now kept up by a man and his wife, who named the place Crossbones Graveyard. They have decorated the graveyard quite nicely, and the aforementioned ribbons are for people who come to visit in the present and they leave behind mementos of lost loved ones. I was really able to connect with my buddy Carter there, which was nice. They had a two by four at the back of the garden labeled, FOR ALL SUICIDES, Carter’s life was taken by depression a year after we had graduated and on this two by four in London Carter’s name will forever be. It is really beautiful that this man has held on to this area and fought for it so strongly. He didn’t know anyone who was buried there, but he still saw the importance of holding on to this place.
Before today picking favourites was always a struggle of mine. Even in the most trivial way of picking my favourite colour, meal, artist, movie, anything really. Because in my mind picking favourites discredited all of the others that I also adored. However today I was able to not only pick a favourite style of painting but a favourite artist. Maybe this was so easily decided because of the distant relationship I had with art. Before today art was always something of a mystery to me. I enjoyed art but I never felt drawn to it or connected with it in ways that others around me seemed to. But today that all changed, I fell in love with Monet’s paintings. Every time I walked into a room I was awestruck by these beautiful paintings that felt soft. I know that may sound silly but it did. It was portrayed soft by the colours that were used to depict the scene and in the way Monet abandoned the rigidity of sharp lines. Room after room I walked in and would be drawn to these paintings so much so that by the end of it I knew the paintings I was staring at were his without the information card on the side. It amazed me to be able to connect with a man I will never meet, a man that was before my time, a man that knew a different world than I, but a man who saw the world as I.