the severe weather came unexpectedly to the corporate landscape

Meeting up in the coldest place in the city, we shuffled about stamping feet, banging our arms across our bodies and trying to be brave. We’d forgotten how to deal with the cold and needed time to rehearse. Hay’s Galleria can be the most inhospitable meeting point, not only because it’s a wind tunnel but also because the clear circulation and desire lines are destroyed by the loathsome sculpture plonked in the main concourse – my opinion of course.

Across the river, the panorama of ‘new’ London at this point looks like a dog’s dinner – an architectural mess of geometric shapes, materials and lumpen forms. Sad and I’m still cold and grumpy! At More London, the intention is clear but the choice of the only living organism planted here within the urban mix is poor. Poor red oaks need taking off to a nursing home for recuperation or perhaps kinder to axe them now. The trees are slowly dying – planting is too close, little water can percolate to the rootball and underground services are seen to be more important than the trees but . . .

. . . beautiful colours today – bright sun, blue skies and the warmth of the autumn leaves helped mind over matter. Need to look at the positive issues. We have a beautiful city. Groups of tourists and visitors and inhabitants bustle around involved in their many languages . . . .

. . . fine details can be experienced as well as ‘in yer face’ items. We were here last year.

Plenty of delicate textures too, relieve the impact of the deadening effect of the corporate built environment . . .

. . . hurrah for the urban designers and plants people who make a difference and warm our souls and hope here for these red oaks in a better position by Potters Field.

Here I hang. I cut myself

apart for you with knowing

tenderness. Shoulders,

legs, spare ribs and spleen.

Liver gleaming in a dish,

Set out neatly for the crowd.

Look at my last gift to you.

Blood and sweetbread.

Nothing new. Pam Hughes  Ecce Home