Swiss Cottage

A few days ago, I got on the tube and was off for another adventure. Camden Town is where the punk music scene was known to be originated. Here is where the sub-culture of London lies appropriately, with tattoo parlors and smoke shops on every corner. Except, I made the wrong tube stop, and ended up in "Swiss Cottage" - a place completely different.

I was upset in not coming across this sort of "rebel" scene I was searching for, yet Swiss Cottage was a quaint little town where character came internally. I didn't see any fancy statues, no big shopping avenues, and definitely no tourists. But my camera was still dangling from my hand, because I started to see the beauty in things not built to be beautiful. Instead, beauty was the product of its existence over time. Sort of like life. It builds and builds, character becomes more complex, and a magnificent product stands - stands not to impress, stands not to showcase, but stands to be.

I visited a small art gallery hosted by an old Victorian home. I saw one of the biggest willow trees I had ever seen. I visited a Russian market and remembered my Grandma. I watched little kids in uniform play on the grass. I captured an image of a train in motion. I was.