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Feeling a bit sad about my city right now. I'm remembering how full of life it used to be and a normal day hopping on and off tubes and buses - a meeting in Soho and then walking through Covent Garden, stopping for a coffee and watching business people and tourists stroll by.
I remember once sitting in a cafe outside Old Street station and observing what felt like a whirl of creative, frenetic energy circle the roundabout - cyclists, white vans, taxis, red buses, people of all descriptions moving here and there rapt in conversation.
I loved moving through this - all the different people, all of those busy lives. I loved sitting on a tube and reading as the recorded voice annouced each stop, and then coming above ground to some other corner of my home, my dirty, vibrant, bustling London.
I know some people never get on with this city. For me it is my life-blood. I never wanted to live anywhere else. It's a constant source of inspiration to me, it fuels my work and it shapes my life. Right now I feel I'm in a sort of mourning for it.
