sunday, surreal

ok, so this past sunday was a little weird. it was a great day all around, but i think the polarity of events will be clear.

my roommates tom and ted and i went on our habitual morning run at 7:00 down to the thames, where tom (while runnning himself) took a picture of us running across the waterloo bridge with big ben in the background. we then undertook a discussion of whether or not tom's speed had precisely matched that of ted and i, of whether the picture would turn out, of how sweet it would be if ted and i were in perfect focus while big ben was slightly blurred. we're all very excited to see the print.

then we had our full english breakfasts (FEB's, as they have come to be affectionately known), over which we discussed whether or not we were all addicted to full english breakfasts. as a collective, room 14 is very passionate about transparency. nothing is sacred in our tete-a-tetes. not even our most sacred ritual, the morning FEB.

after our morning class, most of the group went down to westminster abbey for a sung eucharist service. it was fantastic! thanks to professor peck's connections and perseverance in making reservations for our group, we were allowed to sit in the choir in the central chancel. these seats are used during big functions for dignitaries from foreign lands and officials within the anglican church. we were directly between the organ and the choir, both of which were near the top of their game. i sang as loud as possible during the hymns. quite seriously, the service was very moving, and perhaps i'll write about some of my thoughts about the eucharist itself in a few days. i feel like i have had a realization.

professor and mrs. peck, tom, my friend erin, and i went back to the hotel and had a delightful lunch, and after a brief lay-down we went to the playhouse theatre near trafalgar square to see a production of Luigi Pirandello's Come tu mi vuoi ('As You Desire Me'), starring Kristen Scott Thomas, who was phenomenal.

after the play, i walked through the rain with prof. and mrs. peck to conway hall, where we took in a really great chamber music concert by the primrose piano quartet. the violist was playing on an instrument made in 1630, and we were all impressed. what was of even more interest than the brahms piano quartet in c minor was the fact that this conway hall is the local headquarters of the National Secular Society of britain. the hall itself used to be a church, but it's fascinating to see how all religious imagery and ornamentation has been removed, replaced by only the words 'To Thy Own Self Be True' above the stage area. the atmosphere lent a certain pugilistic connotation to these words, as if the people gathered there would feel their very 'selves' under attack from an oppressive external force. which, to take a look at the literature available, seems to be precisely how secularists in britain feel. the issue i picked up was declaring the newly elected 'secularist of the year,' who apparently is particularly skilled at angering the british muslim community. three cheers.

anyway, i'll end things there, with the surreality of worshipping in WESTMINSTER ABBEY and then 5 hours later to be in a militantly secular space, both of which had some pretty swinging music. perhaps this is a bridging element. i hope so.

oh yeah, after the concert i went out with nearly everyone on the trip to a bar called 'revolution,' which had taken on a bolshevik theme, red stars and everything. the subtitle was the very spartanly worded 'vodka and food.' what else would a good comrade need? it was quite humorous to note that even the iconography of communism has been successfully commodified. also reassuring to know that such a trading on principle is happening outside of the united states. apparently other people in the world are also shameless capitalists. ah, thoughts of home. miss you all.