The Unbearable Lightness of Being.
Updated: May 3, 2020
I set myself a task, I set myself the task of capturing an image that best resonates the essence of a topic affair, whatever that focus of musing might be. In this instance I decided to embark on capturing an impression, which will best reflect the space inner-city environments’ have to offer.
Cue the expedition, and whilst trudging through London's West End, manoeuvring dicey navigation down the crowded function of Oxford Street, what becomes apparent- literally dodging the human onslaught of to' and fro- is upon Hyde Park, on a sunny afternoon and not a spare blade of green grass insight, such is the clamour to sit and soak up sun rays, it was the apparent lack of space, space that allow citizens to thrive and explore, as their basic human instincts would have it, seemingly by default; the focus of attention on what had disappeared from city life the very thing the picture capture the imagination of.
Looking for space found very little of it, in the largest City in the United Kingdom, with the picture of blades of city green, adjacent to the tanked-up clatter; the iron regiments who innately run down the eco-bicycles of absolute reality, when the vogue is tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom, looking for an image to best reflect a sense of space in the city, whilst nostalging on the memory of their use to be more of it- space- the landscape defined itself in a way that offered an insight into the imagery that the city is a custom maybe run-through.
With public consensus, rightly waxing lyrical the consequences the lack of affordable housing brings, and the “tragedy” that generations will never get on the property ladder, and soaring business rates and leaseholds assertively use the lack of space as a way of increasing expensive turnovers, what connoisseurs speak of is the absence of culture, culture existing when children use to play, and Choppers and BMX bikes use to roam landscapes with playful glee, when people, and their clubs and parks meant gatherings could authenticate, and carouse what their culture meant to the landscape of a city.
And perhaps I might write something of consequence, something essential, something part of “us”, no doubt this missing thing related to the plunder of lost essences, the often affirming notion that any claim to ourselves; in effect these essences the picture speak to, hasn't always been contestable, but more and more it seems that way.