3/4/25

I’ve got such a huge backlog of pictures I don’t quite know in what order to post them, and as a result I overthink it, and then end up not posting at all. I then, surprise surprise, keep taking even more pictures, and so I’m in a perpetual loop of adding more to said backlog. I reckon I just have to perhaps post by mood, rather than chronological order in order to let my pictures out loose in the wild. So here’s some pictures from a day in April, in the order I shot them. I’d given myself and Art Day™️, seeing a Munch exhibition (underwhelming) in the morning, and then heading south to Bermondsey to see Theaster Gates at the White Cube Gallery. As I came out of the train station at London Bridge this reflection caught my eye.

I really like Bermondsey Street, where the White Cube is, and the walk there is always such a pleasant one. There’s a few Georgian houses there, and walking southwards I liked seeing the little miniature gardens up above.

This colour combo also caught my eye a bit further along. They clash in the nicest way, if you can call it clashing at all.

Remember how I was unsure of the tighter 50mm lens on my new camera? Well, we seem to be getting on just fine, and I haven’t felt the need to get a wider one. I like how much more graphic the pictures become with less width.

Just outside the gallery now, happy to catch this.

As I entered the receptionist sat with her head down, and I originally took a picture of just the top of her head sticking up, then waited a sec, and suddenly half her face popped up. Click. I smiled a thank you.

The Theaster Gates was good, a bit different from stuff of his that I’ve seen before, so I was glad I went. It was then time to head back home; I retraced my steps and walked northwards. This orange wall is part of the exterior to the Fashion and Textile Museum, which I’ve weirdly never been to.

Nice colour drenching going on here.

So many questions about this window, so many why’s.

On the way back the painted wood work stood out, rather than the pots that I took a picture of earlier. Such a great red and beautiful yellow, and all the better for being next to each other.

Admired the brick work on this facade. Looking at it now I’ve made it mysterious for myself. How much of the facade was bricked this way, all of it or just a small section? I could check on Google Street Wiew and find out right now, but I think I’d rather just look out for it the next time I’m there, and answer my own question.

On the train home, now at Blackfriars Bridge, a train station that is on a bridge (oh really, you don’t say), bridging the Thames. If you look closely you can see Tower Bridge in the distance.

‘Is it creepy taking pictures of people’s hair?’ I asked myself here. Is it?

And is taking a picture of a person minding their own business somehow not? Best not to overthink it.

Fun times

It’s a rainy day here in London today (well needed as we’re heading towards a drought here), and I’ve sat myself down in front of the computer to go through my picture library, where I came across these - also from our summer days in France last year. I don’t remember taking so many of them but I’m pleased that I did, as looking at everyone’s expressions closely has really made me smile. I recommend that you take the time and look at them properly; I bet you’ll find that the joy on these young people’s faces has made its way onto yours too.

Last summer part I

Time for a recap from the time when I wasn’t blogging last year, starting with a bunch of random pix from France. For the last couple of summers we’ve taken the train down to the south, to spend time with my sister and her family at their house there. It’s not the most straight forward of journeys, but I like to think that if we can opt to go somewhere by train rather than fly, then that is what we do. This has usually worked out well, but last year we were unlucky in that our onward train from Paris got cancelled, as did all trains heading south that day - a mini tornado (climate change much?) had knocked down trees onto the tracks. So not only were we then stuck, but we were stuck in Paris, during the Olympics. Anyway, after standing in Gare du Nord for 5 hours in +35c degree heat (with armed police doing the rounds of the station because of heightened security measures - très relaxing), we got allocated a hotel room by the train company, ironically by CDG airport, and continued our onward journey the day after. I took this picture as we had to sit in the café carriage, waiting to be allocated seats on the train, and as I did a guy walked past and asked “Did you get a good picture?”, and you know what? I think I did.

So, we arrived a day late, which was luckily no big deal, and that evening we went for dinner in a small village with a view, where I took a pic of a selfie being taken with the view, rather than actually taking picture of the view. I did take a pic of the sunset though.

After the meal, as we walked back to the car, I was happy to see these two young guys playing pétanque past sun down.

It was very hot for the duration of our stay, as that’s what’s southern Europe is like these days, but dunking yourself in the pool to cool down always worked.

We were lucky (!) enough to have a couple of days when the weather turned. This cloud showed up a few minutes before there was an almighty hailstorm,

as did this one on another day, when the sky rumbled with thunder.

Another picture from after another dinner out, with one of my nieces tying her shoe laces. Her aunt found it picture worthy.

Me and my shadow, him and his shadow.

This is where we’d eat all our meals at home, while mosquitoes in turn would feast on us. Turns out my sis is an amazing cook who can whip up a multi-dish dinner for 10+ people, whilst also cooking something different for the youngest kids and for the one pescatarian grown up (🙋🏽‍♀️), without even getting remotely flustered.

A sunset without my glasses.

In one corner of a covered terrace a couple of swallows had nested, and they were working so hard every day to feed their little ones. I’m very chuffed that I managed to catch one mid-air with a worm/bug in their beak, on the way to the nest.

What else? Well, at one point there was some horse snuggles,

some very well trimmed trees

and some jumping shadows.

There was also a vineyard,

the moon

and time for star gazing. We’d go and lie on the pool loungers in the dark and watch the Persied meteor shower pass by, and shout “There!” every time we saw a ‘shooting star’. You don’t see this many stars home in London, so even just looking at a night sky like this, without a passing meteor shower, is pretty special.

We also had fun showing the nieces the magic of light painting, of which Mr Famapa is a master. He drew this one around one of the nieces with the torch on his phone, and I shot it on a long open shutter, and voilà - photographs are magique and that’s a fact.

United Colors of June

Some colour from a day in June last year, when I went for a neighbourhood walk around East London with my pals A & D. There was a very funny moment when we met, as we realised that we were wearing dresses in the primary colours when together. We got a lot of funny looks that day… Whilst uploading these and looking at what they looked like as a post, I thought “How very blog-like, circa 2008”. And you know what, in this day and age where everything looks exactly the same everywhere online, I don’t mind that all.