Homecoming

~on liminal spaces & transatlantic love affairs

I’ve never really felt like I belonged anywhere. I’ve been seeking a place that feels like “home” ever since I was a kid. Existing in a liminal space, in transit between countries or cities, might be the most familiar. 

Asleep on the Eurostar, many moons ago. Photo by Peter Stanglmayr

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Coming from a showbiz family, a peripatetic lifestyle, whereby you uproot for a few months of the year for work, is considered normal. My father produced and distributed a lot of films in Europe and kept a home base in London. Growing up, we would go back and forth with my parents. Some of my favorite childhood memories took place in the UK— rollerblading through Hyde Park with my younger brother; visiting the doll house collection at the V&A Museum; long walks wearing mud splattered wellies in the English countryside with our oldest family friends; drinking builders tea with loads of milk and sugar…

With Dad outside the Tower of London with my Paddington Bear book.

As I got older, I found myself more comfortable in my skin in the UK. In LA, I’d frequently get labeled “eccentric,” an attribute the British tend to celebrate. In London, conversations didn’t revolve around who was hot at the box office. I felt like I could be a more authentic version of myself away from the reminder of the movie business legacy I come from hanging over my head.

Have you ever wanted to escape the identity you were born with or redefine it on your own terms? For me, leaving Los Angeles has been key to being able to return with my sense of self (and self-worth) intact. 

I love taking a train, a more common form of transport in the UK and EU, although I enjoy watching the California coast go by from a window on the Pacific Surfliner. Maybe I am so attached to trains because they are a concrete expression of a liminal space, the stage when we are neither here nor there, having begun the journey but not arrived at the conclusion. Which is so often, where I feel most at home—in process.

I envision liminal space as something like the life cycle of Mechanitis polymnia butterflies during their pupa, or chrysalis, stage. They have a protective chrome-like exoskeleton that provides shield and shelter as they transition from caterpillar to butterfly. It looks like a brilliant golden armor.

Inside, they are going through a cellular dissolution of their previous form, literally turning into liquid goo. This stage of leaving one form to become another is called metamorphosis. When I am impatient for manifestation and resolve, it helps me to think of these butterflies suspended in their cocoon, waiting for a new existence to reveal itself. Faced with the discomfort of the unknown, I keep this visual in mind to find beauty in the liminal space.

I am writing this as I return to Los Angeles from a couple of months in England, so I wanted to share with you some of my recent obsessions and discoveries.

1. Cornwall. This region of the UK has been on my wishlist to visit for many years. It has everything I love including the cold, refreshing Atlantic ocean (or Celtic sea, depending on who you ask;) surfing and rocky cliffs that rival Big Sur. It also has the largest concentration of ancient sites in Europe. I’m talking stone circles, wells, hill forts, Bronze Age settlements and more. You can very much feel the magick, fairies and witches going back centuries. I will tell you more about my mystical adventures there this Fall, I am still downloading. But in the meantime, some photos…  

I love the art of Cornish fences and these landscaping details (below) of large milky Quartz stones on the outside of houses. I observed this especially in areas that are known for magical sites (Merlin’s cave and the like.) I’m curious whether, in addition to the aesthetics, this is a form of (psychic/spiritual) protection. According to my crystal books, white quartz can be used to protect the home & family from negative energy or be placed outside to help keep out unwanted intruders.

Below, captured sitting on a giant milky quartz in the sun, in the village of Boscastle.

Currently (also) obsessed with British painter, poet, occultist and author Ithell Colquhoun (1906-1988) who lived in Cornwall. Colquhoun was kicked out of the British Surrealist Group in the late 1930s for refusing to renounce occultism and made gorgeous works inspired by sexuality, the erotic body and female desire.

2. Farm shops. I went to several in the Cotswolds and Cornwall that I rate where I discovered local items that have become new staples. I particularly recommend Summerdown Chocolate mint thins and W.S. Robson’s crunchy honey mustard plus this great honey beeswax and geranium hand cream. I also love Cornish sea salt from this company. I found one with seaweed flakes but they don’t seem to sell it online, maybe you can make a special request.

Speaking of the Cotswolds and farm shops… shout out to my long time friend and queen of the English Countryside Plum Sykes who took me to my new favorite bougie farm shop Jolly Nice which has amazing branding. 

Celebrating Plum at her London book party—if you’ve not read her latest novel, Wives Like Us, about the “Country Princesses” of the English Countryside—here’s your reminder to do so.

Things that make me miss LA when in London:

1. Going to the National Portrait Gallery to see J.M.W. Turner’s paintings of his hometown of Margate, made between 1787-1851. Turner was known for capturing the unique light and epic sunsets of his city, caused by industrial pollution. I used to spend a lot of time defending LA’s polluted atmosphere, but you can’t deny that our apocalyptic sunsets are breathtaking. 

   

   A Hollywood sunset pic from my iPhone.

   

   Sunset, oil on canvas by J.M.W. Turner, (painted btwn 1830-1835) collection National Portrait Gallery, London

2. Seeing American comics do sets for a primarily UK/EU audience. I saw Michael Che recently at the Soho Theatre in London last week, where amongst other bordering on the uncomfortable topics (in the best way,) he talked about the upcoming US election. It made me strangely excited to be in the States this November, as wildly unpredictable as the outcome might be. I was in the UK when Roe vs. Wade was overturned in the summer of 2022 and felt so disconnected from/ longing for collective community to mourn the loss of reproductive freedom. Clinging to my American identity while America (maybe?) re-shapes herself feels like a liminal space in and of itself.

Things I am excited to return to in Los Angeles:

1. Erewhon. I’m a bougie hippie bitch who loves an organic market and there is hands down no comparison.

2. The Pacific Ocean. People romanticize the Mediterranean, especially when their IG feeds are flooded with Aperol spritzes shot against the dramatic backdrop of Positano or Capri. Yes it’s glamorous .. BUT the Med is polluted af and you are basically swimming in feces most of the time. The Atlantic is sexy and rugged but the Pacific will always be my number one lover. 

LONDON>>LA