Morning London Photos

One of the best (and free) things to do in London is walk around the city in the early hours of the morning and watch it unfold. It takes some motivation to get out of bed at 6am on a weekend, but when I do, it is always worth it.
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My favourite place to go that early is Brick Lane. There is nothing like sitting in Coffee @ Brick Lane with a cup of tea and a notebook, watching the market come to life the vendors pulling boxes from vans to set up the markets and the pavements and streets slowly filling with people.

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Besides Brick Lane, I love to wander around the near-deserted South Bank in the early morning light. So when I found myself on the train pulling into Charing Cross at 9am yesterday morning, I decided to go for a walk instead of jumping straight onto the tube. The air was so cold that the only hands visible were the pink ones shaking cameras at the London Eye and Parliament. The Christmas Market stalls had yet to open. And I was grateful for my Starbucks caramel macchiato to warm me up.

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Here's a few photos:
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The Homicides of a Marine and his Wife

There are a host of issues that come into play in the recent homicides of Marine Sergeant Jan Pawel Pietrzak and his wife of only two months, Quiana Jenkins-Pietrzak, an interracial couple. They were shot in their own home after Quiana was raped.

Speculation says race was a major contributor to the case as Jan Pawel was white, married to a beautiful black woman and all four men involved in their deaths were black. Though authorities say robbery was the motive, the facts suggest otherwise.

I was asked to write an article this week for Seven Magazine about the story so if you're interested in reading, you can find it here. Please feel free to start a discussion as it is an important issue.

Other than that and a lot of editing, I've been Christmas shopping, spending a bit of time with Dr. K and having a very annoying cold. On the plus side, I also bought an ultrasonic mouse repeller and, despite having about 15 other snap or glue traps lining my walls, I think it may finally have gotten rid of the evil rodent - *fingers crossed* anyway.

LaVena Johnson Article

Tons of amusing things have happened lately, but I think I will just post this for now. On Wednesday night, I was asked to write an article for Seven Magazine on LaVena Johnson. It went out in the mailout for the magazine Friday morning as the lead story. Thought I would share - not because it is my article, but because it is an important issue that everyone should be aware of...

It starts:

November 11 was Veterans Day in the United States, a day to honour and respect those who risked their lives for American freedom, and those who died for it. As in many other cemeteries where veterans are buried, endless rows of white gravestones line the grass of Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery. Among them, with the simple black outline of a cross and an American flag waving at its side, there is one that reads: LaVena Lynn Johnson, PFC US Army.
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LaVena, an honours student from Missouri, died on 27 July, 2005 - just ten weeks after she was deployed to Balad, Iraq, as a weapons supply manager for the 129 Corp Support Battalion. She was just 19-years-old when a shift supervisor from a nearby military cafeteria heard a bang and found her mutilated body inside a contractor’s tent. Though many remembered her bravery on Veterans Day, her death has not been given the respect and honour that this day commands.
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A broken nose, loose teeth, acid burns on her genitals which were presumably to eliminate DNA evidence of rape, a dislocated shoulder, abrasions on her body, a long burn from her shoulder to thigh, torn vaginal area and a bullet wound through her head, LaVena was lying on the stony earth with gashes on the sides of her mouth, her hair tangled in the dirt, a bench turned upside down on top of her.

“Suicide,” the US Army Criminal Investigation Command claimed, despite nine months of investigation. Case closed.
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To read the whole article and help LaVena's family, go to the Seven Magazine page.

Now This is America....

For the first time in quite a while,
when I woke up this morning
(after very few hours of sleep),
I woke up
proud
to be an American.

Paris

Paris, je t’aime. It’s a good thing too because I have a free return ticket to go back. A cigarette butt started a small fire in the carriage nine toilets so we had to pull into the emergency tunnel. In the end it took longer to get from London to Paris than it usually takes me to get from London to New York. So they gave everyone free return tickets.

The best thing about Paris was the language barrier. The French protect their culture by not speaking English even though you know most of them are fluent. Though it was occasionally a challenge to form the correct sentences, they appreciate the effort to communicate in their language.

I had quite a bit of time to myself while D was at work. I wandered along the Seine checking out all the old books and bric-a-brac in the green wooden stands that line the river. Walked across Pont Neuf bridge, which is the oldest one, and down to Notre Dame through a flower market, into some random little boutiques along the way and saw a rollerblade dance team and a few street artists. Some police are also on rollerblades. Discovered the Pompidou Centre which is the modern art building with Crayola-coloured piping on one side and a set of escalators scaling the other.

Went to Place de Clignoncourt to investigate a small part of the market. The beginning is all hip hop culture selling "designer" bags, shoes, tee shirts, bling, etc. Lots of rap blaring from speakers. Then I cut through a small alley and it was like a completely different market. Old guys were sitting in front of antique displays whistling Then I found myself in a huge lot with blankets spread out and garage sale type of stuff everywhere.

Saw Edward Scissorhands, or Edward aux Mains d'Argent, for free in the sound box on night and Jamie Cullum for free in box seats the next. Both were absolutely excellent.

Ate tons of crepes, spent one day with a French girl who took me around the Jardin des Tuileries, Musee d’Orsay, Angelina’s for delicious hot chocolate and on a river cruise to see Paris la nuit. The Eiffel Tower glittering which it does every hour for 5 minutes at night. In between, it was blue and lit up with the stars from the EU flag on front to mark France's term as EU president. Hung out near the weeping willows on the Ile de la Cite.

Spent some time in Montmartre, walked through the small market area of artists who were drawing portraits in all styles, went into the Sacre Coeur, into some cool little shops and down to Pigalle where we saw the Moulin Rouge and walked around the sex shops.

We went to the Cimetiere de Montparnesse where Simone de Beauvoir and Paul Sartre are buried and to Cimetiere de Pere Lachaise to see the graves of Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde.

All in all, a fantastic time. I just put a massive four-entry write up in my other blog so this is short and sweet, but here’s a couple of the 400 photos I took while I was there:
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