Author: Love, Light and Laughter by Abigail Zoe Martin

I am a photographer, creative, reiki energy practitioner, blogger, mother and ardent communicator. I think the problems of the world are all right in front of us but we need to start talking and stop arguing and then we can access them. We are all in this together. My ingredients for a thoroughly good life - integrity, kindness, compassion, empathy, tree hugging, bee saving, humour (loads of that please), books, communication and being able to listen plus good food and exercise and an excellent group of friends. My website is: www.abigailzoemartin.com

Joon, Millennium Park, Chicago

Chicago, Chicago Stories, Millennium Park, Photography, Portrait Photography

Today I photographed beautiful Joon at the Millennium Park in downtown Chicago. I met her at Nordstrom the other day, whilst shopping for a big puffy, bear like coat to keep me warm in the Chicago winter. She redirected me wisely to something far more sophisticated and exciting and, as I tried on the coat, I started to talk to her. I found her very charming and friendly and invited her to be part of my project and she said yes! Here she is, looking wonderful and enigmatic on a gorgeous bright day in Chicago. Joon came here from Korea when she was just 11 years old. She loves fashion, is super stylish and has a very endearing personality. She has just got engaged and is very happy!

“So what brings you joy?” “My family, I have been travelling with them the whole time in my life, from Korea to America- my family is everything and now.. my fiancé and his family as well- getting to know them and learning about them brings me joy.”

 

Madrid -The Story begins

Madrid, Stories, Travel writing

After three days of travelling by car from London to Spain, we finally arrived at our destination. There was Madrid on the horizon; it was time to open the first page in the opening chapter of our new life.

As we pulled up in front of the air b and b, Xavier, my seven year old, leant out of the window, “Look Mummy, Sex is easy!” he shouted in his booming voice. “What Xavier? Why are you shouting that?” I shouted back to him, “It’s there Mummy, on that sign, the one right next to our apartment! Why does it say that Mummy?” Yes, why indeed. Well there it was in big, bold letters – a sex toy shop, with a huge photograph of a lady sucking suggestively on cherries to illustrate the point. 

Oh no, I thought, why on earth had the owner of the property told us that this was a fun but family friendly area? Her idea of family friendly and mine were obviously quite different! The sex shop just happened to be next to a night club, advertised with a large poster of a bare chested oily man with his hand placed down his underpants. I was beginning to worry but I pushed it aside and thought positive, happy thoughts to cover my brewing inner screams.

After unloading our huge amounts of luggage, we all stepped out to explore the neighbourhood. Right next door was a fruit and vegetable shop, which was a relief, and opposite a shop run by a Chinese family who sold everything you could possibly need in any event whatsoever, and never closed – so that was good too. Just a bit further up the street were some shoe stores and boutiques and then there, nestled between them, was an S & M Dungeon. Yes, dungeon and just in case it wasn’t clear enough, there was a list posted on the door of “services provided” and “special rooms”. This would have been fine if it was in Spanish, but no, there it was, in English. As I pushed my children fast past the door, I noticed the “Leather Club” on the opposite side of the road. “What’s a leather club Mummy?” asked Anoushka, “A club where people go who like cows” I answered – well, you have to get creative in these situations! I turned to Leo, “I thought you said that Madrid was conservative!” I was trying not to screech, “It is! I’ve never been to this area before!” he answered, slightly screechy himself.

Yes, here we were, our first day in Madrid and we were living in the “red light” district, right in the thriving, bustling centre of it. What do you do in a situation like this? Well, you embrace it, that’s what you do. 

It turns out that this little hub was Chueca, the trendiest and hippest part of Madrid and actually, apart from these small, seedy establishments, it was a great area, packed to the brim with coffee shops, cafes, boutiques and bars and cool, stylish people. It certainly wasn’t a family area, but we weren’t going to be there long so we decided to make the most of it. It’s not everyday you get to live next door to a nightclub with a very tall transvestite as a host.  This was all part of the colour of life. These stories would become the pages in our family’s history.

That first night we found a perfect restaurant only two minutes from our apartment. Skyla lay down by my feet and we feasted happily on delicious paella. Sipping on white wine, I sat back, watched my family with quiet pride and took a deep breath – we will be ok, I thought, we can do this; and here began our great big adventure.

Pic: Xavier leaning against a tree, Chueca, Madrid

Tiffany, Manager at Lush and Environmentalist

Chicago Stories, Lincoln Park Conservatory, Portrait Photography

I met wonderful Tiffany at Lush In Lincoln Park in Chicago. I was out shopping with Skyla in tow and we got chatting about life, Chicago, the environment and dogs. It was a quiet day in the shop! She talked about her love of cycling and one thing lead to another and she accepted my proposal – to be in my exhibition! Here she is in the Conservatory in Lincoln Park. The best part of doing this shoot, apart from having a lovely time with Tiffany, was the fact that the conservatory was warm to the point of being tropical. I felt like we were on holiday!

I asked Tiffany what brought her joy and this was her lovely response, “so, the simple things .. I like being able to ride my bike, I like being outside, being with people that I love and being able to make other people happy”.

 

For the Love of Cars

Car Lover, Driving Test, English Humour, Humorous Writing, The Open Road, Woman Driver

Some people love cars. They romanticise them, taking great pride in shining, dusting, polishing and admiring them. The thought of driving the open roads, engines purring like cats, fills them with glee. They even take photos of them, which they store on their phones as if they were family members.  Well those people are not me! I have no idea what my car is apart from that it’s a Mazda. Am I supposed to know something else about it? Gas cylinders? Tanks? What? Anyone? You see, I have no idea at all! Do I feel shame? No!

This indifference meant I avoided driving for as long as possible but eventually, in my early twenties, I took lessons. I was pretty useless. I could never get my head around the idea of looking in the mirrors – I mean, why look in the mirrors – just look straight ahead, that was my motto! Well, that certainly got me nowhere! Finally, four tests and sixty lessons later I passed!

At 24 I got to put my skills to the test when I went to work for an art director. She bought a car for her penniless artist boyfriend, which she then allowed me to drive during the week. Now this car was a second hand Skoda and really, it should have been CRUSHED. It was ugly, really old, really slow and for some really weird reason you could only feel the pedals if you took your shoes off. As a first time driver I thought that was just me, but no, her enormous 6ft 4in boyfriend also had to take off his huge shoes and use his big, scary, hairy bare feet to feel the pedals. When I drove it taxi drivers routinely chased me, attempting to push me off the roads, their fists clenched, waving violently out of the window “Stop driving!” they would shout. “Get that car off the road!” Yes, insults followed me daily!

My next job was at a photographer’s studio. About a month into the job, my boss asked me to drive to the post office in the Studio’s car. Well, there I was looking for it, going round and round in circles when I got stuck down an alleyway. I left the car and found a truck driver, “Hello kind Sir, do you think you could help me please? I am stuck and I can’t reverse out of this winding alley”. I mean honestly, how had I ever passed my test? It was criminal! Luckily the man helped me without laughter or disdain! I arrived back to work two hours later. “That should have taken you 30 minutes” said my boss, shaking her head in disbelief. No, I wasn’t a natural.

I decided to give driving a rest, which lasted quite happily for another ten years. Then I had my daughter and there was no getting around it, I had to drive. My husband suggested gently that I take some more lessons.  Forty lessons later my instructor told me I was ready to be let loose on the roads of London. “Great!” I cried excitedly “We’re buying a car this weekend, I’ll be driving by Monday!” He leaned over towards me, expression a mixture of doom and desperation “Please, please buy an automatic!”

Twenty years later I can finally say I am happy to drive. I push my way across the five lane motorway here in Chicago every morning on the school run, occasionally shaking my own little clenched fist at other drivers (much to the horror of my kids) and you know what, I feel pretty darn good about it! I can drive! I’m the Queen of the road and I like it!

 

Pic: Bucktown, Chicago

A Portrait of Chrissy, mother, model and writer

Chicago, Chicago Stories, Photographic Project, Photography, Portrait Photography, Portraits

I met gorgeous Chrissy through a friend at my children’s school here in Chicago. Over an outdoor brunch, before the winter weather finally took hold, I asked her if she would take part in my big portrait project and she said yes! She is very down to earth and has a lovely girl dog called Frank, who made instant friends with my dog Skyla, which did make our shoot slightly chaotic! We are hoping to do another shoot together in the near future. I am bursting with ideas and Chrissy is very easy to photograph.

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The Road Trip – London to Madrid

London to Madrid, Madrid, Stories, The Open Road, Travel writing

So here we were in the car, driving to Madrid from London to open a new chapter in our lives, car packed to the hilt with as many belongings as we could stuff into it, kids squished into the back between the computer, dog on my lap and the audio books of David Walliams playing on the stereo (his children’s books are really funny).  Each time the story stopped the kids would start bickering, shouting, fighting, pinching, squealing, screaming and generally being the sort of passengers that if they were fee paying, you would pull over and leave on the pavement.

We had had the good sense to decide to break the trip up into manageable instalments. Basically that meant that we stopped in France and Northern Spain along the way, which meant we could rest our weary bodies, walk the dog, stretch our legs and go for a meal and the parents could drink a very large alcoholic beverage (or was it two?) and rest our ears.

In Northern France we spent the night in Rouens in a wonderful hotel and I have to say that I did feel terribly liberated and adventurous!  I rather admired us! Here we were, free, roaming across Europe, only the clothes on our backs and the luggage in our cars, no house, no ties, no beds, no fixed address, just the future beckoning before us – well, you get the picture, I was getting carried away with the romance of it all!

We wandered around the pretty town looking for a place to eat that would take us and our dog Skyla. I was a bit worried they wouldn’t let her in, but no, in France you can take a dog anywhere – I even saw some in McDonalds! The French love their dogs, I mean really, really love them and even for me, who is quite obsessed with her dog, it seemed a little extreme, but I wasn’t complaining, it meant Skyla could go everywhere with us, even to dinner!

We woke up to a beautiful breakfast, French style, our plates filled to the brim with crusty bread and mouth watering freshly baked croissants. The children drank thick, strong hot chocolate in bowls whilst I enjoyed my own tea, brought from England, complementing the perfection (I take my own tea wherever I travel – I’m English- one must!) What a good start I thought, this was definitely a good omen.

We then squeezed back into the car and a number of hours, shouts and David Walliams stories later, we arrived in San Sebastian in Northern Spain. Now, I have to say, San Sebastian is gorgeous. We found a restaurant in the town square and again, Skyla was welcomed without fuss. It was tiny, scruffy and empty, yet we feasted like Kings, eating and eating tapas after tapas, each delicious mouthful competing with the next. This was a sign. We were on the right path, spiritually speaking, we were doing the right thing. I just knew it!

Pic: Our hotel in Rouens, Northern France

The art of ageing – disgracefully!

Ageing Process, English Humour, Humorous Writing, Observations

If there is one thing I learnt from my time living in Spain, it’s this – forget your age! Don’t let it hold you back, try not to focus on it so much, especially if you are about to turn the big Four Oh or maybe the big Five Oh! Yes, just forget about it!

I was filled with joy when we went out for dinner in Madrid as I would find myself distracted by the sound of giggles and laughter and would turn around and there I would see a group of ladies of a certain age (well, over 58 and above) and they were dressed in sparkles, hair done, lipstick on and they were so excitable. They weren’t cowering in a corner all meek and mellow. They were out and proud and loud and I saluted them (internally or they would have had me removed from the restaurant).

I revelled in the joy of walking into a glamorous ‘it” place and seeing a lady in her fifties, hair shiny and long, teetering stilettos (elegant ones, not trashy) and a top casually falling from one shoulder. Yes, this woman had sex appeal. She wasn’t tucked at home with her slippers on, she was out and about and enjoying life. l loved the self confidence.

It really did make me feel that i needed to revamp my John Lewis (I still love you, don’t worry) wardrobe. I needed some pieces that brought me right up to date; I needed some pizzazz; I needed to work some magic. It took me another six months to get to the shop (here in Chicago) and be persuaded by the beautiful shop assistant that the rock ‘n’ roll coat she had got for me to try on (I was looking for a big, puffy, warm number as usual) was the right choice. But “Aren’t I too old?” I wondered out loud and she took a good look at me responding, “No, it looks great” and she didn’t look devious and she wasn’t laughing or raising her eyebrows and I thought “What the heck!” and got it and you know what – I love it! When I put that on I rock baby! Yeah! I even went to buy high shoes afterwards to go with the coat! Now i rock from top to toe and I love it! Then Monday comes around and I’m back to my walking boots, trusted warm and rather ugly bear coat, my big gloves (sometimes two pairs) and my gnome like woollen hat, yet I still feel great as I know that coat is tucked up inside my cupboard and its magical transformative powers are just waiting for me.

I think that’s the point of ageing, it happens, things change (all those weird extra hairs anyone, what are they?) but your mind can still be energetic and you don’t have to start regulating your purchases to fit your new age. You just have to work around it.

I spoke to a friend today about this very subject and my advice was, she may be reaching forty but don’t focus on it. I have noticed that the more focus you give something the bigger it gets until it’s almost unwieldy and it sucks you up. Focus on the bigger picture and get busy! Take a look in that mirror and say “I’m gorgeous” because, well why not and in my case, who else will! Oh, and get some sexy high heels and if you have sore ankles (I know, it’s the age… ssssh) and you worry that you are now a bit too wobbly to totter along in those towering numbers, there are all sorts of sexy low ones too! Go on, “Because you’re worth it!”

Pic: The luxury of homemade cake at the hairdressers in Chueca, Madrid

Gavin, bartender, musician and singer

Chicago Stories, Photographic Project, Photography, Portrait Photography, Portraits

I met Gavin the first weekend we arrived in Chicago. He was making drinks for a cool crowd in an even cooler hat shop in Buck Town – a cool and creative part of town (if you are a Londoner, think Ladbroke Grove with a sprinkling of Kensal Rise and a teeny touch of Chiswick). There was a little party going on there during a festival weekend (this city has a lot of street festivals during the summer as it’s all part of the big release after the very big winter) and I got chatting to him as he made the drinks.  I asked if i could take his photograph and he obligingly said yes, and five months later we finally did the shoot! His image will be part of my series for the exhibition, Chicago Stories, coming in September 2017.

Becoming an expat… how it all began

Expat Life, London to Madrid, new life abroad, Observations, Spain, Stories, Struggles in Spain, The Open Road, Travel writing, Travel Writing

Moving country is not something to be taken lightly. First up, if as me you are a parent, you need to convince the offspring that moving house and country and leaving friends, family and familiarity is a really good idea. I can tell you from experience that this is not easy. It takes an awful lot of cajoling, faith and some excessive amounts of optimism. 

Our first move to Madrid took us two years to plan – yes – two years! It took us all a long time to decide that it was a good idea to break free of London and you know what pushed us, finally, to just say yes – the “Beckham Tax!” Yes, that tax incentive for England’s favourite footballer when Real Madrid were luring him to Spain, is now set in place for all future British expats. This meant that my husband would be on a really low tax bracket for the first six years, so we could actually start to save (who saves in London?) and have, we hoped, a pretty good life. On top of that, Madrid is infinitely cheaper than London and infinitely warmer. You can drive to the beach, the people like kids and the food is delicious!

Actually leaving our lives behind was harder than I thought it would be. The tears when my son Xavier (aged 7 at the time) left his tiny school, hugging each teacher tightly in turn, made my heart hurt. I have to say that it actually felt like torture during those last goodbyes and I did wonder what we were doing.

I decided we should drive to Spain instead of flying. I thought the children would realise how close we were to London if they could physically see how many miles we travelled and how easy it would be to just drive back. I was also worried about my little dog and how she would handle the plane. The idea of a road trip felt exciting and adventurous, rather than just another anonymous two hour plane ride.

As we had no fixed address yet for Madrid,  we found ourselves an air b and b. It looked reasonable but the owner, who was very charming, convinced us that we would be better suited to her other apartment, which was more “arty” and in a “livelier” part of town. Good idea, we thought, it will make our transition more fun until we found a permanent home. 

On the day of departure my father helped my husband load up the car with as many belongings as we could get into it and on top of it. We wouldn’t get our stuff for another two months so we squeezed it all in, – in went the computer, the music system, the dog’s bed, the dog, the kids (only just, it was a very tight squeeze), the clothes (for all weather, just in case), my special pillow, coats, hats, a kettle, tea (of course!) even the roller skates – it all got squeezed and squashed into the car. I really did wonder if it would just sink and give up on the way but off it then trundled, us all packed in like peas in a pod, our hearts a mix of anticipation, anxiety and sorrow. 

These were our first steps to an unwritten future, destination known, destiny unknown.

Pic: Xavier stares out to sea in Northern Spain.

Portrait of Bianca, Journalist

Chicago, Chicago Stories, Photographic Project, Photography, Portrait Photography, Portraits

This photograph of lovely young journalist Bianca, is the first I took in a series of Chicago portraits that I am shooting as part of a forthcoming exhibition, entitled “Chicago Stories”. I am photographing a whole cross section of people from all walks of life and also interviewing them. The idea is that the exhibition will celebrate the city and it’s people and pull back it’s skin, showing how it works and how it is all interlinked.

I really enjoyed photographing Bianca. She is young and extremely wise, with a very clever head upon her shoulders. I do like it when I get to spend time with people who are over 20 years younger than me and are so astute, it gives me hope for our future.