The Graduate and the Cafe.
Sitting in Snob's Coffee, watching people walk around, at my work, past my work... What are they thinking? What are they feeling?
I love sitting in this place. There is always someone who wants to talk about art. And if they don't want to talk about it, you know they feel it. And they know you feel it.
While I was walking here, I watched the faces of the people scurrying past to their destination, unaware of the gem that resides in the Town Hall.
This past few weeks, I have learnt to appreciate what is it to be "Poor", "Skint", "Brassic", on the verge of eviction and not knowing what to do next. What did I do? I begged lifts, scraped pennies, all in an attempt to get to Ipswich. To come sit in Snobs Coffee in the Town Hall. What is it that makes this place so enigmatic? Magnetic to arty-types? I think it's because it's a place in which we can be ourselves. We can dress quirkily and eccentric without getting funny looks, we can sit and paint and not be in receipt of raised eyebrows and sideways glances.
So, where will I be this evening? At home, watching I'm a Celebrity? No. In a pub, watching I'm a celebrity? No. I will be in Snobs Coffee. With all the other eccentrics. Appreciating the music, the locally sourced food and drink, and best of all, the company of great like minded people. I am privileged.
