London: a Blog
Dedicated to all the nice people
who got in touch when I was blogging
on London Metblogs, especially for Doug.
New moon seen through trees
The beautiful bridge, Thursday 09 December 2004, compact pollution layer clearly visible over the north bank.
Transforming a road
The old and the new in Covent
Rain or shine, the loveliness of London's built environment
View from the South Bank, presently being refurbished: even
a relatively dull day cannot obscure its festiveness.
The renewing City: a corresponding male figure is positioned
on the opposite side of the entrance way.
Football for the fun of it, Regent's Park.
Visitors at the north entrance level view shadows on the wall at the eastern end of the Tate Modern's Turbine Hall. The architects are Herzog and de Meuron.
The engineered city.
The city in bloom.
Late summer light in a doorway.
Tate Modern: an art work in itself.
Here is a damaged tree not the
neutral damage of, for example, a
hurricane here, the damage we
inflict is on ourselves.
Saturday: just managed to get to the shop before they'd all gone: apple tartlets with apricot glaze. Some doughnuts still left in the background.
Spitalfields, E1, a pavement cover depicting one of the area's past craft skills: musical instrument making, photographed on a recent visit to see best mate Bilber. You can take the tube to Liverpool Street and walk through streets that are still comparatively small scale and quiet, with mercifully little vehicular traffic.
In a Central London street, nature, in the form of the strong, green tendrils of, I think, courgette plants practises outreach.
Meeting a friend at Senate House on Tuesday, I am thrilled as always by the reticular vision of Charles Holden.
A variable conditions
water bottle to clip or stash:
the latest reinvention of the
And an old favourite
. . . the ICA
Bar's pint of Guinness Note
the delicious mouthful previously
supped by the Poet, a first for
'The new section you added is very interesting indeed.
I mean... There are the same pictures you published on
the blog but seeing them as a temporal unit and not
fragmented in cyberspace is IMHO much better.
Unfortunately, one problem in our modern
society is workaholism and
isolation. We live in a fast-paced and aggressive
environment and people find difficult to connect with
each other. Moreover, our age is blinded by hedonism
and living beings (humans and not-humans) tend to be
regarded as disposable items.
That's why nature, art, blogs are important things.
They can promote the meeting of "like-minded" people
and enhance communication. It is almost needless to
write that a very special place is held by Nature.
Indeed, nature shows us what an interdependent
phenomenon life actually is.
PS. I am impressed in front of the creative
possibilities ofered by a computer.'
The black road
A section of black road, London
W1. I sometimes wonder what
quite so much of it is doing in
this fairest of cities.
Here's a comparably gloomy link.
Its about death on the roads
(although not perhaps what you
might think). Read it.
And as I recently indicated to
Andy (Hi, there), since blogs are
a vividly experimental medium, here,
I am letting the link (from a recent
MIT Press book) speak for me.
More pictures, taken on a recent visit to Tate Modern are due to be posted soon. Meanwhile, try fitting in a visit. You can donate, as above, or go free.
Waiting for the university bookshop,
Waterstone's Gower Street, to open.
Sun, Strand . . . and life's a beach. Somerset House on a
recent sunny Saturday, with children - and quite a few
adults - playing in the fountains in the forecourt, incidentally,
the site of the pre-embanked Thames' northern tide line.
London's pigeons don't miss a trick: here are some of them cooling off in a puddle.
Many wild creatures too share London's
Further to Rose and I taking time off in the garden: one recent Thursday, friend Rose arrived on the doorstep unexpectedly so I took time out from the office to show her around Regent's Park.
We came upon a gardener. He was trimming the edges of one of the flower beds by hand, using one of those long-handled clipper things, quietly giving the garden a softness impossible using a powered tool.
As we passed his gardening trolley, we heard - softly from a radio he'd placed inside one of his plastic gardening buckets - the sound of a Bach Prelude.
We sat and contemplated the beauty of the created garden, man and nature working together. (And surely Spinoza was there too.)
Can I also add that this was not a special place per se. It had been created and it had been made special by the respect accorded to nature here; the cooperation between man and nature here.
This post comes without a photograph. To have photographed the scene would have been to intrude upon the gardener's devotions.
Miles of airconditioned space - plus the smell of fresh books (left) Waterstone's Gower Street, basement level, Malet Street end.
(Right), still at basement level, Gower Street end, the smell of fresh coffee from the Costa coffeeshop. Enjoy.
PS: Don't let the summer pass
without visiting a garden.
© 2004, 2005 Sally Crawford
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