London is one of the most malleable cities I know. So many realities can exist in one square metre of this city, and a street that has hosted a myriad of feet for hundreds even thousands of yearas, feet all wearing the changing fashions of the day, can be turned instantly brand new by a brand new set of eyes and spirit.
The evening ends with me joining three other attendees, engaging in a discussion about the difficult immigrant experience there’s to be had in Britain with Jas, a daughter of two Indian parents. It is a grounding but uplifting conversation, one on which I was very sure to take notes, ever keen to find more perspectives that can inform my play about just this subject.
An evening where so many layers of me, the lady who lunches, the art enthusiast, the bastion of individuality and performance and the most important, the child of a first generation immigrant, all collide. All of these layers, coming of age at different times in my life, collide each day, but collude beneath the charming exterior, sure to be my accompanying guardians as I continue to grow and achieve my destiny.