I arrived home this week after 3 & half weeks in American. I spent the last weekend in New York, not doing anything related to my project, maybe that’s what I needed, just to have a bit of fun and not think too heavily about the fact it’s coming to an end, and that I would be leaving New York, my mum’s old home. I used to think I really wanted to live there, perhaps because I always feel this connection to her when there, but now I just feel like I only really want to visit. I love it there, love wandering around, imagining what she would have done, but maybe if I lived there it would lose it’s magic. I want New York to remain our thing, the place we can go together in my head, I can feel like I’m visiting her. If I lived there I’d be scared that would fade. It didn’t feel sad leaving, as I know I will always return.


On one of my many walks around town I went to her old school Dalton, I remember visiting it when I first came here after her death and feeling the most amount of grief as I walked around the corner of East 89th Street, but this time was so different. She loved this school, it just reminded me that she had lots of good times here and that made me happy. I imagined her walking out the doors with her best friend Jane, in all their American glory, and it didn’t bring up sadness this time. There were the remains of children’s drawings and words on the front of the building when I went this time, and it felt in some weird way like they was made by her, and it felt nice. I look forward to seeing what I find next visit.

Now I’m home it feels like the start of the next part of the project, after this trip I feel so much more inspired and clear about what I’m doing, I can see it in my head, before it was just kind of blank and a big panically feeling. Now it feels like I’m going to enjoy it, like I know more about it. The next bit is about her life here, and all about her cookery, learning her recipes, and I’m especially going to enjoy the eating bit.


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