Anna Kuchinsky

Oct-vember. Where does the time go. Jeepers.

With a noticeable chill in the air, swathes of synthetic material acting as barriers to the elements and a distinct urge to stay indoors to sip tea & mulled wine (!). I reluctantly ventured West, to Hammersmith, last Friday. Invited by an Estonian colleague, Anna, a captivating character; a look of beauty and a passionate opinions, I was intrigued to hear whether her voice matched.

Part of The European Jazz Festival and set in the Jazz Cafe POSK, a Polish cultural centre, I slipped in to an intimately exquisite room. A vibrant, bluesy atmosphere that oozed passion. Slipping into a chair I awaited the performance. Naturally nursing a whiskey on the rocks, donning a gold cocktail dress and hive.

A rich mix of cultures pouring in, the anticipation was tangible.

She entered, dazzling the tumble weed silent onlookers. Demure in black, with a thigh high split. Every inch the star.

Introducing her band, she eased us in slowly with Manhattan, roused our emotions with Infant Eyes, elated with Fascinating Rhythm and astonished with her version of Just Take Five.

Whilst I've seen Jazz in cities across the globe, the emotive nature of Annas work set itself apart from the aforementioned. Asking her how she would like her work to be perceived, Anna noted she wanted the audience to have 'that good feeling inside. You know what I mean? The feeling that makes you sing and dance and love and fly.'

With her mother spotting Annas raw talent aged 11, she was encouraged to study classical vocals in her home of Estonia. Moving onto jazz, she felt confident and her passions were energised. By 2008, Anna was noted as a musical talent throughout Estonia.

A chance meeting with Toby Stone, late 2010, planted visions of London, storming the music scene as she had done in Estonia; taking a leap of faith, into the unknown. February saw this vision realised and embracing the unfamiliar Anna set out to overcome all obstacles, including the language barrier.

Fast forward to 21 October 2011. With a confident breath, Anna announced an Estonian song;Pigiling. About a young bird; unsure of itself. Unsure of the world. Apprehensive about its future. Feeling harsh realities on bursting the homely bubble. & yet daring to make a move. Take the world on. Do what she was meant to do ...

... I advocate Anna in the same capacity. Taking the leap and flying as she is most definately meant to.

Simply a cynosure.

A must see luminary. Anna Kuchinsky.

Mind the 10 Gaps.

I hate the way you talk to me, And the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots And the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick, It even makes me rhyme. I hate the way you're always right, I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, Even worse when you make me cry I hate it when you're not around, And the fact that you didn't call But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, Not even close… Not even a little bit… Not even at all.

Are there 10 I hates? YES.

It'd be refreshing to be faced with this rather than a void.

Nigh.

White.

Mind black. Anger white. Areas of grey.

Profanities. Expletives. A malediction.

Truth is. When all's said & done. To be happy, bask in complacency even. You have to be content. Meandering through with the occasional buoy (pun intended) the Bubble Tea pearls burst & you're left with a familiar bitterness.

I've forced my astigmatism to it. Desolation.

I'm a jealous girl. Grass is greener.

Failing.

Flailing.

I recused a brick in my bed clothes when I was 9.

Career.

Desperation.

Pride.

24 months departed.

I despise emoticons.

Wink.

Lighter octave. Like;

From Vogue

Boris Bell.

I've returned from a journey. Spiritual? I hear you ask. Nay. Found yourself? I see you're getting bored. Nay.

I've been on my first Boris Bike.

Despite being called a wanker, dangerous idiot & a slow coach. I enjoyed it. All 51 minutes. Cycling past London Zoo, Albany Street and Harley Street, I couldn't change gears, my foot slipped more times than I have fingers and toes & this looking over your shoulder malarkey? Balance is not a virtue.

The reason for my late night ride was a colleagues bid to cycle Europe. Organising an hours jaunt to enhance her vigour for the trip, I signed up as an apathetic support. As the time drew close, naturally original enthusiasts depleted, & when, at 8.45pm came, three were left.

I admire a goal.

I set myself a challenge.

Cycling isn't for me.

BBikes don't have a bell

I too have a goal. & in supporting my peer, I gather momentum for my own.

Wonder whether Boris has peddled those metal contraptions.

Udder.

Today;

Pink Berry watermelon flavoured frozen yoghurt at Selfridges

'Exotic' Solero

Muller Light

Popsicle

Mini Milk

Frozen yoghurt pot

Milk me already.

Imagine '33' in an Irish Accent.

Since 29 August. 33 days ago. Jeepers.

I've been working 2 jobs & feel like I could be an honorary member of City High. Perhaps without the rock smoking, stripper, child combination. Meh, I'll plump for being an honorary member of The Beatles, as I have in fact been working like a dog.

33 days in 33 words:

Working; 2 jobs: Hobbs (Team Leader) & Beyond Retro (PR)

Watching; The Great British Bake Off & Appropriate Adult

Walking; behind snappy-happy tourists

Listening; Moira Stuart 'Strong & Sassy'

Recalling; what a 'day off' feels like.

This isn't a complaint as I adore being busy. Yet the term 'day of rest' elicits on my mind quite mockingly.

Images I've enjoyed include;

A WWI US Army Infantry military jacket came into Beyond Retro.

Priced at £170, it has all original features, including a terribly itchy fabric.

A debate broke out as to whether this image is of the jackets original owner (I like to believe it is indeed)

The Start Up Britain bus campaign; I went. For 2 minutes & found it all very against start up. I may voice my opinions at the next one (!)

On Cheshire Street (off Brick Lane) this plimsole shop exists. In all its magnificence. I've seen a flat capped older male residing there. I've yet to pluck up the courage to enquire about his powerful marketing expertise.

Stroud Green, Finsbury Park. Taken 3 weeks ago, double rainbow. Deliciously precious.

Dined at Le Mercury, Islington. I've ne'r written about my food fancies on this blog before but GEE WHIZ, this was off the richter scale. Comes highly recommended, in both piquant and purse terms.

G-A-Y

Residing in London 2 years ago I was a regular Soho caller. Frequenting the usual haunts, I met a kaleidoscope of personalities, nationalities and homosexual degrees.

Fast forward 24 months, I've changed. Soho has not. Sure there are new faces & queens but the warmth, vibrancy and energy remain.

From a civilised supper to a debauched dusk, it was a hoot.

Bruised, aching & no clue as to how I spent so much, I'm already pencilling in my next appointment.

G-A-Y