A picked Gloucester Road as a destination so as to get pics of the Platform Art on display there - gently beautiful dreamscapes of faces in buildings and landscapes.
We stood and watched trains going past, and people shuffling on and off - how many looked out the window? How many glanced up from a newspaper to see a smear of colour and beauty wash past them as they left the station? Something magical breaking through the trance-state necessaary to avoid madness in commuting. I hope enough of this magic, this wonderful glamour does smudge up a few London souls, make them open to the wonder of the world again.
After the consternation at South Ealing and South Ken, this a high point in the collection so far.
Oh, but then it's so much easier to wax bucolic when one doesn't live there anymore. I can be a tourist, I can be the invisible flanuese with detached amusement...I am not desperately rushing anywhere to a deadline today. I have time to stand and stare.

