Hoodies



Sarf London, home of the hoodie, where even dogs wear them. He's hard (actually I think being an alsatian is hard enough on its own without resorting to intimidating clothing as well).

Follow my leader

Battery of tests, again. From before it came out that I have a power motive - not necessarily about taking over the world or lording it over people, but probably manifesting itself in a need to be recognised for effort and good work. It also came out that I have achievement values - knowing that finishing things is important (but ultimately boring to me). It told me the organisational climate I was working in at the time of taking the test was extremely unhealthy (I did know that, thankfully it has changed now). Leadership styles I use mostly are visionary, affliative, participative and coaching (I don't manage anyone directly). And I most commonly use the following influencing strategies: empowerment, interpersonal awareness, relationship building and impact management.

So there we go. But what does it mean, and how should I use my new found knowledge... Perhaps its time to try to take over the world (I feel a Pinky and the Brain moment coming on).

Sent to Coventry

The commuters and I rode the train from Euston. Jolly, crammed on. Dark fell suddenly, dark clouds been overhead all day. Rain falling. From the cab on way from the train station it was hard to see anything more than the lower branches of trees, thinning leaves, yellow and orange. Raining.

Not looking forward to 3 days of leadership training. 3 days of being stuck inside. It ends up feeling very other worldly. Not seeing more than the bedroom, conference room and dining room. Barely stepping foot outside. Certainly not going far. I feel cabin fever before I even get there! I forget how much distance I travel in a day usually. The landscape of my life is relatively wide really - travelling from North to South London everyday.

Hat

A man walks down the street. It is night and a chill wind carries icy rain into his face. He is wearing a blue and white striped plastic bag on his head.

Persuasive

He bounded out of the bus all rubbery legs and leaping like Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz when he first gets off the pole. His girlfriend follows, stiffly. She gets cross a little way up the road, noticeable by the way she stopped rigidly in the middle of the pavement. He bounces back and kisses her cheek. This is not enough to defrost her. So he comes in for an altogether more elaborate embrace - full kiss on the mouth, arms pulling her to him. She is unresponsive. Her arms hang down like a child who doesn't want to be put into its buggy - stiff like board. They do set off again though - he grabs her hand. They walk off reflected in the wet pavement under the yellow street lights.

Things I'm loving about November

• Fallen leaves on tarmac driven into the fabric of the road.
• Frosty mornings and crisp nights.
• The chill of parks at night creeping over the street from under the fence.
• Warm body, cold face, visible breath.

These things are appealing because its the first time this year - 3 weeks from now when I've been freezing at bus stops, nose running and red from cold, and its dark when I get up and dark when I leave work it will have lost its appeal.

Tea cosy

Outside work, standing at the bus stop, was a woman who was wearing what could only really be described as a human-sized tea cosy. Roll neck, with a huge all enveloping knitted pleats that went down to the ground. One gigantic poncho.

Crack





On the way into the Louise Bourgeois we stood on either side of the crack. Couldn't go all the way along to the widest part because it was closed off. The crack was cut deep into the floor.

Fire

A fire's light flickers against the curtains at 1.30am. Looking out of the window my neighbour is burning old kitchen cupboards in a brazier in his garden. Strange time of night to be doing it.

Cold wind blows

I sit in the open doorway wrapped in a blanket watching the last dozen or so yellow leaves torn off the tree. Garden is closing down for the winter. The bare branches have new growth though. Birds skit about in the garden - robins, great tits, blue tits, sparrows, collared doves, thrush, blackbirds, magpies. Searching for worms, eating the last of the berries. Sky is blue, sun is weak and low in the sky.

Guess Where London

I'm a bit addicted to this London picture game! I haven't known any of the places so far though. Time to get more observant!

Angsty Halloween

Bus stop Archway. Saw my old English teacher Peta Webb. Small with henna-red hair. Folk singer. She once sang to our class, unaccompanied. I thought that was brave - girls can be so judgemental.

41 bus came and we piled on, grateful that we didn't have to stand in the wind tunnel, that Archway is, any longer.

At the second stop a drunk got on. Dropped his money. Picked it up. Fumbled in his pocket. Couldn't find enough change. Bus driver kept telling him it was £2. Drunk didn't have it. Bus driver told him to get off the bus. He punched the door in anger as he disembarked. The glass door shattered. We all decanted. Two men felt agrieved enough to want to run after the drunk and beat him up. The bus driver disuaded them. We waited for the bus behind.

A young man walked past in halloween costume. A skinny Alex DeLarge complete with slightly short white trousers and eye makeup. Instead of black DM boots he was wearing patent black lofas with his socks pulled up his calfs.

Second bus came. We got to Turnpike Lane when a group of three Albanian men got on with 2 passes. Big altercation happened when the bus driver insisted they pay for the final fare but couldn't accept a £20 note because he didn't have any change. Eventually after arguing for some time and insisting the bus driver was a wanker they produced a £5, which he didn't have change for and the bus continued on its way. Everyone a bit edgy incase there was any more trouble.

Happy Halloween!



(Pumpkin lanterns made out of clay with tea lights - made in the 10 minute exercise at ceramics class a couple of weeks ago - more than one student's work here).

Centre Point

Central point in London is a big tower block. I go to meetings there occassionally. This time it was the 18th floor. If I worked there I think I would spend all day staring out at the view. But perhaps over time you get used to it.






The sun was low in the sky, the windows weren't clean, it looked hazy across London. Landmarks stood out. Suprising sometimes - like the glass roof on the British Museum. Docklands looking large and looming up in the east. Feintly seeing Tower Bridge on its curve of river. Wembley far west (couldn't take a picture that direction because of the venetian blinds on that side of the building).

Windows of the Rich

Canonbury Square at dusk - large Georgian houses with genrous doors all painted black. The gardens in the centre are shaded with huge plain trees, planting in keeping. Walking on the york stone paving slabs somehow seems luxurious in itself, particularly in comparison to modern concrete slabs and cheapo tarmac. Yellow light from the old gas laterns bathes the street.

These houses are too posh for net curtains. Plenty of views into the large rooms with their high ceilings and chandeliers. Shutters for those who crave privacy.

Its soon time for supper. Two women cooking. Kitchens that look onto their back gardens at the far end of vast rooms with the dinning area towards the street. Busy at their sinks, backs to the street. Piled up groceries on the kitchen islands. One black cat sitting watching on the counter.

Influences of Harry Potter

I stopped into the opticians to see if they had a different kind of glasses - fancying something new, less square. A woman and her son followed me in. She and I browsed through the lines of uber-cool contemporary frames - plastic with stripes and inlaid diamonte, titanium with laser cut patterns. He son spied a particular frame.
"Mummy, mummy will you buy me some round frames please?"
"When you need glasses I'll get you some."
"But I do need some...Can I get some for fun?"
"No you can't." Half to herself, "but I need some new ones." She picks up a frame and tries it one, lookingin the mirror.
"Mum, let me try!" She puts them on him. He looks in the mirror, up, down, side to side. Approvingly.
"Professor Osborne", is his verdict to himself, "Mummy can I try some round ones? I need round ones."
"No! You don't need glasses, now stop pestering me."
"I do need sunglasses though," triumphantly.
"Where's the sun?"
"I can see it. I can!" He turns to the assistant, "I need sunglasses, do you sell them?"
"Yes, we have hundreds," she points.
"Nathan! Stop!"
This desperation for a pair of glasses is astounding to me - it felt like a failure of massive proportions when I first was told I needed glasses. Being one of only a couple of wearers at school I didn't because I couldn't handle the comments that would have been made. I think his mother should get him a cheap pair with plain glass.

Friday Feeling

For some reason everyone was wearing jeans today. Very relaxed. Sort of hung over from previous night's shinanegans.

It was Nigel's last day today. Retiring. I've not idea who Nigel is. He's upstairs. The envelope came round, and the card, but I didn't sign - he wouldn't know me either. Those that knew him went up for "party" at 4.00. Big square cake in large bakery box. Always spongy, often coconutty. Fake tasting icing out of a squeezy tube. Not much art in cake decorating anymore. Gifts in cheap wrapping paper from the whip round. Retirement gifts ought to come in classy wrappings. Gone are the days when it was an expensive gold clock.

Beautiful Morning Images

There's an advet on the tube about a club you enter in London and exit in New York that compares the two cities' skylines and riverscapes at dawn. New York is dark midnight blue, with a dark blue river water reflecting lights from the city. In contrast, London is a sort of mottled pinky, blue grey. Grey buildings with orange rising sunlight reflected in their windows. I've seen the Thames like that, on early morning starts, and also often on the way home at dusk, the riverbank lights and the sky reflecting in the water. Sort of fairy tale.

Sunday Shopping and Strolling, Harringay Green Lanes

Turkish barbers is busy with young men getting short, shaved lines and sculpted crowns. A slick of product and a brush on the neck.

Girls in skin tight jeans. One size too small. Flesh poured in, knicker elastic showing a smidge - lacy racy pink or plain white. Skinny eastern european girls in stonewash.

Young, good looking dwarf - perfectly proportioned, apart from his shorter than average legs.

Old turkish men - tweed jackets, moustaches and blue shopping bags - fruit, vegetables, bread and maybe even some sheep balls - white, veiny, lined up like eggs in the meat counter.

Mercedes and four-wheel drives pull in, parking illegally while passenger darts into the shops. Waves and toots for friends as cars drive slowly past.

Ceramics Class



So we discovered the extruder and started making these big perfect coils really quickly. I'm not sure its actually quite authentic - coil building is hand made and maybe ought to look like it. But you can build quite quickly this way. Not quite sure how to glaze the long necked one yet. The stack of donuts pot though is all thought out, if it ever dries enough to fire (coils are rather thick).