May 22, 2003

Driving back from Slough:

He slowed down. I slowed down. He sped up. I sped up. He slowed down again. I slowed down again. Like synchronised swimmers we moved in an elegant sequence of fits and starts that culimated in us slowing to a complete stop: him sticking his finger up at me - and me doing the same at him. He: a cabbie trying to join the elevated section of the M4. Me just an ordinary guy driving along the elevated section of the M4. Suppressed rage all the way back to Hammersmith. He with suppressed rage behind me - all the way back to the Hammersmith turn-off. When we parted company I was relieved. But I spent the next 15 minutes driving round in circles in the King’s Mall multi-storey car park: why is it so f*cking difficult finding a space when you really need one?

I don’t what it is, but it has a certain draw. Glamour with an unpretentious edge. In complete contrast to the City - which I would turn my nose up at now after spending years working there - this place fuses what should be a doomed combination of nation, province, refuge, cult, art, crime, corporation and just about everything you could think of throwing into the pot - knowing with absolute certainty that it’s going to turn out foul in such a small pot. But strangely it doesn’t. This place seems to play harmony to extreme density in lines of urban tangent. And it does this without getting stuck up its own back side - unlike Kensington or Chelsea. Flight Path, Flyover, Traffic, Schools, Kids, Theatre, Coca Cola, Disney, River, Bridge, People, Crowds.

Tube lines separated by a roadway - upon which drivers seemingly urge themselves to step up a gear to get around. There is no logic in this. They won’t get around any faster - this they know. But it is adrenaline inspired by crowds - they flirt with a ready-made audience of many nations made up of people who either work here - or simply pass through here.

If you want to find all the cops
They’re hanging out in the donut shop
They sing and dance (oh whey oh)
Spin the clubs cruise down the block

The Bangles - Walk like an Egyptian

Posted by jag at May 22, 2003 06:12 PM

Your a poet jag. Admit it!
What are you still doing designing strategic architectures? :)

Keep it up!

Posted by: Marcus on May 24, 2003 09:34 AM

Not a poet - just a blogger. Poets only become famous when they die. My journal will have no meaning when I’m gone!

Also: architecture is art.
Strategic architecture is therefore strategic art!


Thanks for dropping by!

Posted by: Jag on May 24, 2003 09:38 AM
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