So last night in England, at about 1am I was awoken by the biggest earthquake to hit England in 24 years. Now at approximately this time, 24 years ago, I would have been celebrating my 10th birthday. I don't think the two are related, but you never know...
The thing with me though is that if I am awoken just after getting to sleep, I am really, really confused. The brain has just shutdown and entered weird dreamland, so getting roused from that state is never a smooth process. First I felt the shaking, and then thought that someone was trying to drive their car through the house to get me. I heard someone calling my name, seemingly from outside (it was downstairs), and didn't know what to do. Then some footsteps on the stairs and I was seriously thinking someone was going to burst into the room at any minute and I was trying to find my pj bottoms. But they didn't. I heard voices, recognised my housemates, and managed to get out bed to confirm that there had just been an earthquake, only lasting about 10s but enough to wake almost everyone.
It was definitely stronger than anything I felt in Japan, where every month at least I would feel was a mild rocking that without the sound of display case windows clanging against each other probably wouldn't have woken me from sleep. Here though the 2 seconds of violet shaking was quite a jolt. Not much damage - in my room just precariously placed decoration fell down, but nearer the epicenter in Lincoln around 60 miles away there were chimney stacks that collapsed and as of the morning just one casualty was reported.
So that was exciting! But disappointingly (?) I only heard the old cracker "so did the earth move for you?" three times during the day. Maybe that was a blessing.
BTW the picture is from the Tate Modern Museum in London when I arrived in Jan. Called "Shibbolleth", it is a deep crack in the floor of the Great Turbine Hall, peering into the foundations, which according to the artist in part represents "the history of racism, running parallel to the history of modernity and... it's untold dark side". If I can misinterpret an earthquake as a smash and grab invasion into my house, and world-famous artists can interpret a crack in the earth as reflecting racism and colonialisation, am I in the wrong profession? I must admit to sometimes needing some imagination interpreting experimental results in a positive light. I seemed to see more colours in membrane-thin ceramic samples than my Russian student Svetlana when polishing last year, so perhaps it can be useful to be a bit weird in the head...
