kensington market

Today was Pedestrian Sunday at Kensington Market. A small neighborhood known for counterculture and cheap artists' residences, it has more recently become somewhat gentrified. The area features vintage clothing, organic food groceries, cheese shops, small bakeries, and my favorite: moonbean.

(this is where I have spent countless hours enjoying coffee, people-watching, knitting, and writing)

It was a beautiful day outside. Sunny, clear, warm... The streets were bustling with students, tourists, little doggies with their owners, and street performers. I witnessed a contact juggler, a few musicians, a prose-writer on command... (I didn't really get that-- all she did was sit there and type away on her painfully stereotypical hipster typewriter and take drags from her cigarette), a woman pretending to be a wind-up doll (at right), oh! and a percussion band that drew quite a crowd. So big, in fact, that I couldn't even see the band. I distinctly heard a snare drum, that typical marching band drum where you hit it on both sides with large mallets, and even a darbuka. I'm going to try and get a hand-balancing routine together with a partner for next months Halloween street-fest. 

I think my favorite sight was two little entrepreneurial girls.. with surprisingly good marketing skills... or perhaps I'm just a sucker for innocence.

"Sunshine in a cup  50c"

 After a quick round of the Market, and a tasty chorizo empanada, I retreated into my corner of Moonbean for a cappuccino and some time with my new friend. I'm knitting a sweater with some luxurious yarn and I can't stop gushing over it. The yarn is actually quite simple... an non-dyed andean single twist highland wool-- but there is something exquisite about the simplicity of it. It's like I'm petting the sheep that gave part of itself so that I could make something to keep myself warm and happy. Every time I pick up the yarn, I think, "Thank you, sheep."