London psychogeography. My own trashy London.

London full of rubbishWalking meditations. Or just playful drifting around London urban areas.

People are walking in circles. They pretend that they know very well where they are going but they are still stuck in the same circle. Or triangle. Each one of us has their own everyday walking route – triangle. And everybody has a different image of London.  There are thousands different perceptions of what London looks like. How do we migrate in cities? Why do we choose to live in some particular areas? How do we explore cities? How we travel from point a to b? Is it just a programmed route based on your journey planner or we choose our journeys across the city according to the nicer surroundings? I’d like to emphasize on the way we move across the city and try to reveal complexity of London by travelling all around London and being different character. Being fresh local whenever you go. When people get used to the same route, they pay less attention for things around them. Everyday I am trying to taste their reality, their routine; follow their path and recognize people who also fall out of framed routine.

Notting hill. A guy on the bridge  asks people for a cigarette. He is way too impatient and just distracts people passing by. I wonder whether he is so desperate about smoking or it’s just his character. He approaches me and starts telling a sad long story about how his wife left him because he has bi-polar syndrom; he says that he wants to make a dinner but doesnt know how to cook so he asks for my help. His flat is full of disabled-friendly devices due to his father illness but he is now in hospital. He tells me that the last guest at his house (before me) was a guy with a bag full of guns and drugs. Not a very promising welcoming. He gives me Quaran, we discuss about religion and agree on one thing – no one should ever look down to Jesus or Allah. If they get angry, they might destroy the world.

Brixton. 60+ years old lady with a girlish skirt holds two beer cans. She tells me about her son who kicked her out of her own apartment so she is staying now together with rasta drug dealer. Not that bad.

The city of London. Underground metro station. 50 bankers climb on the stairs. They all walk the same speed, it’s enough to slow down a little bit and you can feel their robotic movements  next to you. No one sees homeless guy with a blue cap. Their eye-level doesn’t reach such a low angle.

Everyone is so upset. Another homeless guy with colourful jacket just stands in one spot and stares at people. People just pass him by, no one ever looks to his lost eyes. An abyiss of street life. At least somebody could smile at him.

The only happy person I’ve seen that day was an old lady in 4 star hotel near hyde park. She was peacefully drinking tea with her friends and listening to live piano music. A little bit dull image but her eyes were truly celebrating life.

More observations on camera will be soon visible online.