Timeless London #11 Manny
Updated: Oct 8
你必須學懂找到自己的位置，不要害怕為自己發聲，
也不要害怕站穩自己的立場。
時：2026年8月25日，下午六時半
地：Royal Festival Hall
人：Manny
認識Manny的過程很有趣。一年前，我和她都出席了一個在我公司的Archive Studio舉行、關於Steel Pan歷史的活動。閒談之間，我記得她跟我說，她本來在欣賞我們的表演廳Royal Festival Hall裡的一場音樂會，但聽到其中一個小提琴走音了，便有點不耐煩，索性走出來四處看看，結果就來到了Steel Pan的活動，也因此認識了我。
一年後，我重提這段相識經過，說起我一直覺得她是一個很有趣的人。Manny笑說，她其實是個traditionalist，如果要聽古典音樂，她希望聽的是正正統統的古典音樂，對modern fusion反而有點敬而遠之。我心想，這跟我的想法真是一模一樣！如此，就在同一個表演廳外，我們坐在繁忙的Southbank，談着她的倫敦故事。
你從哪裡來？為什麼會留在倫敦？
我叫Manny，是Emmanuelle的簡稱。我是一名創作歌手、結他手、音樂製作人和表演者，在倫敦出生和長大，一直沒有離開倫敦。很老實說，這是因為我的音樂事業還未發展到足以讓我賺夠錢離開這裡（笑）。如果可以完全決定自己的生活，而金錢又不是問題的話，我其實很想搬到海邊，過一種安靜而簡單的生活，自己種種水果和蔬菜，有一個小農場，然後繼續做音樂。
可能正因為從小在倫敦長大吧，我反而很渴望一種跟城市截然不同的生活。不過，我也必須承認，對我的事業而言，倫敦確實是一個很好的地方。現實是，我們生活在一個資本主義社會裏，既然如此，就只能好好利用眼前擁有的東西。我有音樂上的天分，而倫敦是一個很適合讓我的音樂繼續成長的地方，所以我也很感恩自己能夠留在這裏。
音樂最初是怎樣走進你的生命？
我八歲那年在學校上唱歌課時，當時的音樂老師對我說：「Emmanuelle，你真的很有天份！」我那時候還小，當然不知道這句話會有什麼影響。回家後我把這件事告訴媽媽，她後來讓我接觸音樂劇，也一直鼓勵我參加學校的表演。到了中學，我加入了National Youth Jazz Orchestra，最初學的是薩克管，後來卻發現自己其實更想唱歌，於是我轉到唱歌的部門，從此開始以歌手的身份表演。
青少年時期我也加入過Tomorrow's Warriors和Julian Joseph's Jazz Academy，也開始跟樂團一起演出。那時候我們都是十幾歲的學生，因為都喜歡爵士樂而成為朋友，後來更組成自己的小樂團，到不同的小酒吧演出。我很記得第一次演出是在一家Brixton的Eritrean bar，我們每人只收到十英鎊和一頓飯（笑），現在回頭看，覺得那根本就是剝削童工，但當時我們真的很開心。
這樣一路走來，我已經表演了大概十四年。以前上台可能會緊張，但現在如果有人突然給我一枝結他、一支咪，叫我站在那裡唱歌，我可以直接就唱。不緊張是因為我慢慢明白，其實台下的人跟我一樣，都只是普通人。我們都有自己的不安，也有自己的故事，沒有什麼好害怕的。
你所創作的音樂是怎樣的呢？
我本身很喜歡爵士樂，因為那是我從小接觸的音樂，也可以說是我最喜歡的音樂類型。但有趣的是，我自己創作的音樂其實不是爵士，而比較接近Acoustic Soul、Acoustic R&B和Acoustic Pop的種類。
我主要用結他寫歌和製作音樂，不會太多去加入很多節拍和其他聲音，所以最後留下來的往往就是我、一枝結他和一些和弦。但我使用的和弦和唱法仍然帶有R&B的特點，而我寫的題材：愛情、生活、失戀等等，很自然地就跟這種音樂連在一起。當我開始學結他時，R&B的和弦對我來說很容易掌握，所以很快便變成了我自己的音樂語言。
我是自己寫所有的音樂和歌詞的，也負責製作。創作的靈感其實很簡單，就是愛、生活和失戀（笑）。我覺得，痛苦和掙扎有時候反而更真實，因為這個世界上大部分人都正在經歷一些不容易的事情。我們想聽到的，也許正是一些真實的東西，讓我們可以在最基本的人性層面上互相理解、互相連結。那些不完美的時刻，似乎往往更值得寫下來。
你大學讀的是歷史和社會學，而不是音樂，為什麼會選擇這條路？
因為我媽媽當時其實不太希望我讀音樂。作為有色人種女性，她鼓勵我去修讀一個比較「正經」的學位，它可以讓你多一點保障，也多一點選擇。所以，我最後還是讀了較傳統的學位，不過我也慶幸她這樣做；大學期間，我卻一直沒有放下音樂，仍然會在課餘時間演出，再拿起結他，嘗試自己一個人創作。之後的八、九年，我基本上都是和我的結他一起做音樂。
其實我一直很喜歡歷史，中學時它是我最喜歡的科目（笑），所以讀歷史對我來說並不是一個很痛苦的選擇。只是大學畢業後，我回到倫敦，試過教書、做保姆，也嘗試過一些比較傳統的朝九晚五工作，但最後都沒有辦法真正適應。因為我是一個創作的人，我需要很多的空間。
所以過去三年，我決定把所有時間和精力都放在音樂上，不再做其他事情。
在建立自己的創作生活時，你學到最重要的是什麼？
現在，我花更多時間在社交媒體上，因為我不得不接受，在這個時代，社交媒體就是一種貨幣。
同時，我也慢慢學會了社群的力量。我在WhatsApp有一個群組，裡面有一些一直在TikTok和Instagram上支持我的人，而大家本身也都是創作者，所以我們會互相支持和分享。我開始明白，當你願意把自己真實的一面分享給別人，人與人之間就會建立連結，而有了連結，就會產生信任。就算有一天我突然問他們：「我今天要去拍攝一個作品，誰要跟我一起去？」他們可能也會說：「好啊，去吧！」因為我們已經認識了一段時間，也分享過很多真實而有意義的對話。這讓我真正感受到，人其實很渴望連結，而社群的力量就在於此。
至於音樂事業最後會走到哪裡，我現在其實也不知道。我覺得，當你真的想追逐一個夢想，就必須放下一點對結果的控制，不要一直要求自己知道最後會是什麼模樣。只要繼續向前，一步一步做下一件事情就好了。我正在學習的，就是這樣走下去。
作為一位有色人種女性，你的身份如何影響你的經歷？
我的媽媽那邊來自千里達，爸爸那邊則來自牙買加，我家人是在Windrush一代來到英國的。當年加勒比海地區還是英國殖民地，英國邀請加勒比海人士來到這裡，一起重建二戰後的英國。但他們來到這裡之後，也經歷過很多種族歧視。
我從小在倫敦長大，讀的是白人學生佔多數的學校。直到上大學以前，其實並沒有真正理解這段歷史。當時我修讀了一些關於殖民主義和種族的課程，也第一次有機會接觸更多黑人社群，重新認識自己的加勒比海血統。那是一次很大的轉變，我開始去理解到系統性和結構性不平等的複雜性，也意識到我從小到大所理解的世界並非全貌。
而且，我更明白了我青少年時期經歷的許多隱性種族歧視 ── 這一份覺醒一開始其實也帶來了憤怒，因為當你突然明白，這個世界並不是一個完全公平的地方，自然會問：「為什麼會這樣？」但慢慢地，我也學會把這份意識帶進自己的生活裡 ── 如果有人說了一些讓我不舒服的話，我會更願意站出來，告訴對方這樣是不對的。我覺得，我們這一代人比以前更敢於挑戰一些已經過時的觀念。
這對我在音樂行業裡的經歷也有影響。這是一個有很多權力關係的行業，作為藝術家，你並不一定擁有很多控制權。所以我現在更希望建立自己的力量，透過自己的音樂、自己的社群，以及真正支持我的人，讓自己不必完全依賴別人來決定我的價值。
我覺得，有時候你也必須學懂怎樣在這個遊戲裡找到自己的位置。最重要的是，不要害怕為自己發聲，也不要害怕站穩自己的立場。
你現在最想追求的是什麼？
我從來沒有像現在這樣清楚地知道自己想要什麼：我希望在創作上得到真正的滿足，也希望有一天可以在經濟上更加穩定；除此之外，我想要的其實很簡單，就是快樂和健康。
我現在仍然覺得自己在一個「建立」的階段。我希望有一天可以擁有自己的空間，讓自己安靜地創作，也希望自己的音樂能夠去到真正需要聽見它的人那裡。
以前我總是很想知道下一步是什麼、最後會得到什麼，但最近我開始學習放下對結果的執著。我不想一直追着某一個目標跑，而是想把注意力放回當下，一天一天地生活，一邊感受自己的情緒，一邊繼續做該做的事情。我想，這本身也是一種成長，你不一定要每天都感覺很好，才能繼續向前，我們可以take each day as it comes。
如果可以改變一件事，你會改變什麼？
如果可以，我想消除金錢作為在現代社會裏唯一交換方式的這個角色。我更希望我們可以交換自己的技能、才華和創意：你為我煮一頓飯，我可以為你演出；你幫我修好一件衣服，我也可以用自己的方式回報你 ── 我不知道這樣的世界是否真的可能，但我覺得，如果我們可以重新靠近一點自己的創意和彼此的技能，人應該會活得更快樂，世界也會更溫柔。
現在，很多事情變成了「你可以為我做什麼？」或者「我可以從你身上得到什麼？」我們甚至會因為一個人對自己的事業有沒有幫助，才決定要不要跟他建立關係。我覺得這樣很可惜，因為人與人之間的連結，本來不應該有這麼功利的理由。我有時候看着大自然，也會覺得很不可思議：一片葉子的紋理、一片雪花，甚至人的眼睛，都可以如此細緻和有創意。可是我們好像慢慢把這些東西的魔法都剝奪走了。
所以如果真的可以改變一件事，我希望我們可以重新記得：創意、社群和彼此，本身就有它們的價值，不是所有事情都必須換算成金錢的。
你似乎正站在一個轉捩點上，最近在學習放下什麼？
我覺得自己正站在一個成長的轉捩點上。快要三十歲，我開始更清楚自己希望怎樣生活。我不一定要達到某一個具體的目標，但我希望自己一直走在一條真正適合自己的路上，做着自己覺得應該做的事情。
以前，我腦海裡一直有一個很清晰的成功畫面：在O2 Arena舉行一場座無虛席的演出，那就是我想像中的巔峰。但過去半年，我開始重新思考，對我來說，真正的由創作帶來的滿足到底是什麼？
很奇怪的是，現在我想像中的「滿足」，已經跟觀眾人數、別人的注意力，甚至那些外在的成就沒有太大關係。滿足反而是一種很內在的感覺 ── 我知道自己正在做一件真正應該做的事情。我覺得，也許這就是放下控制的一部分，我開始接受有些事情不需要先知道答案。
一年後的今天，你覺得你會在做什麼？
老實說，我現在沒有一個很具體的答案。我甚至覺得自己已經放下了那個一定要走向某個方向的想法，也放下了以前腦海裡那些對未來的畫面。
我希望一年後，我仍然是在走一條自己覺得對的路，而這條路途不一定要有很rigid的方向。像今天遇見你、接受這次訪問，也不是我原本計劃的一部分，我只是當下覺得這件事情很對、很有意義，所以我就去做了。
我暫時沒有什麼特別的期望，但我很珍惜自己現在擁有的條件，例如可以暫時住在家裡，不需要為租金而煩惱，讓我有空間把注意力放在音樂上。我希望一年後，我仍然可以這樣生活，繼續做讓自己覺得有意義的事情，繼續創作，繼續往前走。
我和Manny的緣份，其實還有另一重連結：她十年前曾經是Tomorrow's Warriors的成員 ── 這個在Southbank Centre聚集年輕音樂人、同時培育新一代音樂人的爵士樂社群，原來也一直延續在她的生活裡。
而在訪問完結後的當晚，Manny帶我到了South East London一間由她朋友經營的餐廳。那裡有Pizza和各種美食，也有現場的experimental jazz表演；台上的三位音樂人，以及現場不少觀眾，正正就是多年前Tomorrow's Warriors的成員。
看着他們久別重逢、自然地聚在一起的樣子，而他們又對我這個第一次見面的陌生人如此熱情，我突然覺得，這家小小的餐廳非常溫暖。那一刻，我好像比坐下來訪問Manny的時候，更明白她所說的「community」到底是什麼：它不只是一群人曾經一起做過音樂這麼簡單，而是多年以後，即使各自走上不同的路，仍然會因為一段共同的經歷、共同的愛好，再一次好好聚在一起。
專欄簡介
用心生活的人都是值得欣賞的。在倫敦，我召集了十二位用心生活的人，他們有著不同的
背景、職業、愛好、生活方式，但共通的是，他們對生活有著熱情的心。我一一訪問，紀錄他們當前狀態，希望一年後，這個小小的時間囊會成為他們檢視生活的美好回憶。
作者簡介
大學中文系畢業、英國University of Leicester博物館及畫廊研究碩士。目前在倫敦某大型
文化藝術中心工作，並以教廣東話作為點綴；兩屆青年文學獎得主，作品曾刊《字花》、
《別字》等，著有專欄〈原來都走到這裡〉刊《大頭菜文藝月刊》。喜歡村上春樹、古典
音樂、伯爵茶和鄰居的貓。
Timeless London
#11 Manny
Date: 6:30 pm, 25 August 2026
Location: Royal Festival Hall
Guest: Manny
Meeting Manny was an interesting coincidence. A year ago, we were both at an event about the history of Steel Pan, held at the Archive Studio at the Southbank Centre, where I work. In the course of our conversation, I remember her telling me that she had actually been watching a concert in the venue, but when she heard one of the violins playing out of tune, she became slightly impatient and decided to step outside and have a look around. That was how she ended up at the Steel Pan event — and how we met.
A year later, I brought up the story of how we first met, telling her that I had always thought she was a particularly interesting person. Manny laughed and told me that she is actually a traditionalist: when it comes to classical music, she wants the real, traditional thing, and tends to keep her distance from modern fusion. I thought to myself, I feel exactly the same way! And so, outside the very same concert hall, we sat amidst the bustle of Southbank and talked about her London story.
Where are you from, and why have you stayed in London?
My name is Manny, short for Emmanuelle. I'm a singer-songwriter, guitarist, music producer and performer, born and raised in London, and I've never really left. To be completely honest, that's because my music career hasn't quite reached the point where I've made enough money to get out of here yet. (laughs)
If I had complete autonomy over my life, and money wasn't an issue, I'd actually love to move somewhere by the coast. I'd have a quiet, simple life, grow my own fruit and vegetables, have a little farm, and make my music.
Maybe because I've grown up in London, I find myself craving a life that is completely different from the city. But I also have to admit that, when it comes to my career, London is a really good place for me. The reality is that we live in a capitalist society, so we have to make the most of what we have. I have a talent for music, and London is a great place to nurture it and allow it to grow. So, all things considered, I'm grateful to be here.
How did music first enter your life?
When I was eight, I had a singing lesson at school, and my music teacher said to me, “Emmanuelle, you've got real talent!” I was very young, of course, and had no idea what those words would eventually mean. I went home and told my mum, and she started introducing me to musicals and encouraging me to take part in school performances.
When I got to secondary school, I joined the National Youth Jazz Orchestra. I initially played the saxophone, but I soon realized that I actually wanted to sing, so I moved over to the singing group. That was when I really started performing as a singer.
As a teenager, I also joined Tomorrow's Warriors and Julian Joseph's Jazz Academy, and started performing with different ensembles. We were all teenagers who loved jazz, so we became friends and eventually formed our own little bands, playing in small bars around London. I remember one of my first gigs was in Brixton at an Eritrean bar. We used to get £10 and a meal as payment. (laughs) Looking back, I realise we were basically being exploited as child labour, but at the time we were having a great time.
All in all, I've been performing for around fourteen years now. I used to get nervous on stage, but these days, if someone suddenly handed me a guitar and a microphone and told me to stand there and sing, I could just do it.
I think I stopped being nervous when I gradually realised that the people in front of me are just people, too. We all have our own insecurities and our own stories. There's really nothing to be afraid of.
What kind of music do you make?
I've always loved jazz because it's the music I grew up with, and I'd probably still say it's my favourite genre. But interestingly, the music I make myself isn't jazz. It's more in the world of acoustic soul, acoustic R&B and acoustic pop.
I mainly write and produce music with my guitar. I don't tend to add lots of beats or layers of other sounds, so what you often end up with is simply me, my guitar and some harmonies. But the chords I use and the way I sing still have a lot of R&B in them, and the things I write about: love, life, heartbreak and so on, naturally connect with that kind of music. When I first started learning guitar, I found R&B chords quite easy to pick up, so they very quickly became my own musical language.
I write all my own music and lyrics, and I produce it myself too. The inspiration is actually quite simple: love, life and heartbreak. (laughs) I think pain and struggle can sometimes feel more real, because most people in the world are going through something difficult. Maybe that’s what we want to hear: something real that allows us to understand and connect with one another on the most basic human level. Those imperfect moments often seem to be the ones worth writing about.
You studied history and sociology at university rather than music. Why did you choose that path?
My mum wasn't particularly keen on me studying music. As a woman of colour, she encouraged me to go for a more traditionally sensible degree, for the sake of security, and I'm glad she did. I'm grateful for my education. But I never gave up music while I was at university. I continued performing in my spare time, picked up my guitar and started experimenting with making music on my own. For the past eight or nine years, that's basically what I've been doing - making music with just my guitar.
I've always loved history, actually. It was my favourite subject at school, so studying it wasn't exactly a painful choice. (laughs) But after I graduated and came back to London, I tried teaching, working as a nanny, and doing more traditional nine-to-five jobs. In the end, I just couldn't really settle into that kind of life. I'm a creative person, and I need a lot of space.
So for the past three years, I've decided to put all my time and energy into music, and nothing else.
What have you learned about building a creative life?
These days, I spend a lot more time on the social media element because I've had to accept that, in this day and age, social media is a kind of currency.
At the same time, I've slowly learned about the power of community. I have a WhatsApp group with people who have been supporting me on TikTok and Instagram, and they're all creatives themselves, so we support and share with each other. I'm beginning to understand that when you're willing to share something real about yourself, you create a connection with other people, and with that connection comes trust.
So if one day I suddenly said to them, “Guys, I'm going to shoot something today, who wants to come with me?”, they might just say, “Yeah, I'd love to !” Because we've known each other for a while and we've shared a lot of real and meaningful conversations. It's made me realize just how much people crave connection, and that's where the power of community comes from.
As for where my music career will ultimately take me, I honestly don't know yet. I think if you really want to chase a dream, you have to let go of some of that needs to control the outcome. You can't assume that you know exactly what the end is going to look like. You just have to keep moving forward, taking the next step, and then the next one after that, and trust that the puzzle pieces are coming together. That's what I'm learning to do.
As a woman of colour, how has your identity shaped your experience?
My mother's side of the family is from Trinidad, while my father's side is from Jamaica. My family came to Britain as part of the Windrush generation. At the time, the Caribbean was still part of the British Empire, and Britain invited people from the Caribbean to come here and help rebuild the country after the Second World War. But when they arrived, they also experienced a great deal of racism.
I grew up in London and went to a predominantly white school, so until I went to university, I never really understood this history. I studied modules on colonialism and race, and for the first time, I had the opportunity to spend more time within Black communities and reconnect with my Caribbean heritage. It was a huge shift. I began to understand the depth and complexity of systemic and structural inequality.
I think a lot of the covert racism I had experienced as a teen also began to make sense. That awakening initially came with a lot of anger. When you suddenly realise that the world is an unfair place, it is natural to ask, “Why is this happening?” But gradually, I have learned to bring that awareness into my own life. If someone says something that makes me uncomfortable, I am more willing to speak up and tell them that it is not okay. I think our generation is more willing to challenge ideas and attitudes that have become outdated.
This has also shaped my experience in the music industry. It is an industry with a lot of power dynamics, and as an artist, you do not necessarily have much control. So now, I want to build my own sense of power through my music, my community and the people who genuinely support me, rather than relying entirely on other people to decide my value.
I think sometimes you also have to learn how to find your place within the game. Most importantly, do not be afraid to speak up for yourself, and do not be afraid to stand your ground.
What are you striving for?
I have never felt entirely clear about what I want. I want to feel creatively fulfilled, and I hope that one day I can also be completely financially stable. Beyond that, what I want is actually quite simple: to be happy and healthy.
I still feel that I am in a stage of building. I hope that one day I can have a space of my own where I can create in peace, and that my music can reach the people who are truly meant to hear it.
I used to always want to know what the next step was, and what I would eventually achieve. But recently, I have started learning to let go of that attachment to outcomes. I do not want to spend my life chasing a particular goal. Instead, I want to bring my attention back to the present, feel whatever emotions I am feeling, and keep doing what needs to be done.
I think that, in itself, is a form of growth. You do not have to feel good every day in order to keep moving forward. We can simply take each day as it comes.
If you could change one thing, what would it be?
If I could, I would change the role money plays as the only way we exchange things in modern society. I would rather we exchanged our skills, talents and creativity: you cook me a meal, and I perform for you; you help me mend a piece of clothing, and I find my own way to give something back to you. I do not know whether a world like that is truly possible, but I feel that if we could move a little closer to our own creativity and each other's skills, people would be happier, and the world would be gentler.
So many things today have become about “What can you do for me?” or “What can I get from you?” We can even find ourselves deciding whether to build a relationship with someone based on whether they can benefit our careers. I think that is a shame, because human connection should not have to come with such transactional motives. Sometimes I look at nature and find it incredible: the veins of a leaf, the shape of a snowflake, even the human eye - all of them can be so intricate and creative. Yet somehow, we seem to have gradually stripped away some of that magic.
So if I really could change one thing, I would want us to remember that creativity, community and one another have value in themselves. Not everything has to be reduced to a monetary value.
You seem to be at a turning point. What are you learning to let go of?
I feel like I'm at a turning point in my growth. As I approach thirty, I'm beginning to have a clearer sense of how I want to live. I don't necessarily need to reach a particular goal, but I want to know that I'm walking a path that genuinely feels right for me, doing the things I feel I'm meant to be doing.
For a long time, I had a very clear image of what success looked like: performing to a sold-out O2 Arena. In my mind, that was the ultimate achievement. But over the past six months, I've started to rethink what creative fulfilment actually means to me.
Interestingly, the sense of fulfilment I imagine now has very little to do with the size of the audience, other people's attention, or any kind of external achievement. It is much more internal. It's simply knowing that I'm doing something I genuinely feel I'm meant to be doing. Perhaps that is part of learning to let go of control: accepting that I don't always need to know the answer first.
A year from today, what do you think you'll be doing?
Honestly, I don't have a very specific answer right now. I feel like I've even let go of the idea that I have to be heading in one particular direction, as well as the images of the future I used to have in my head.
I hope that a year from now, I'm still walking a path that feels right to me, even if it doesn't have a rigid direction. Meeting you today and doing this interview, for example, wasn't part of any plan I had in my head. I simply felt in the moment that it was the right and meaningful thing to do, so I did it.
I don't have any particular expectations for now, but I'm very grateful for the circumstances I have, for example, being able to live at home for the time being without having to worry about rent, which gives me the brain space to focus on music. I hope that a year from now, I'm still able to live this way: continuing to do the things that feel meaningful to me, continuing to create, and continuing to move forward.
My connection with Manny has another layer to it: ten years ago, she was a member of Tomorrow's Warriors - the jazz talent development organization and community that brings together and supports young musicians, and one that has continued to be part of her life in different ways.
After our interview that evening, Manny took me to a restaurant in South East London run by a friend of hers. There was pizza and all kinds of food, as well as a live experimental jazz performance. The three musicians on stage, along with many of the people in the audience, were all former members of Tomorrow's Warriors.
Watching them come together so naturally after all these years, while welcoming me, a complete stranger they had never met before with such warmth, I suddenly understood why this little restaurant felt so special. At that moment, I think I understood Manny's idea of “community” more clearly than I had while sitting down for the interview itself. It is not simply about being a group of people who once made music together. It is about how, years later, even after everyone has taken different paths, a shared experience and a shared love can still bring people back together, and give them a reason to sit down and be together again.
About the Author
Iris Yee-Ting Chow, (Official Website) born and raised in pre-1997 Hong Kong. Moved to the UK in 2018 and has been here ever since. Holds a degree in Chinese Language and Literature from Hong Kong, and a master's in Art Museum and Gallery Studies from the University of Leicester, UK. Currently works at a major art and culture centre in London and moonlights as a Cantonese teacher.
Twice awarded the Hong Kong Youth Literature Award. Work has appeared in Fleurs des Lettres and Typo. Writes the column ‘So This Is Where I've Come To‘ for The Turnip Arts Journal. A lover of Haruki Murakami, classical music, Earl Grey tea, and the neighbour's cat.
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