It’s 35 degrees and humid, far too hot to walk so I hire a scooter and ride down from the Lincoln Memorial to the Capitol Building. I see Alesha taking shade under a tree with her friend; the colour of her hair wrap immediately catches my eye.
The double exposure is entirely serendipitous, like the meeting.
I’d spotted the group when I first arrived at Victoria Park. The sun was reflecting off their clothes and radiating light with brilliance as equal to the group’s energy. You could feel the warmth of their closeness and excitement of being together, like an adventure. It never occurred to me that they might actually be amenable to being photographed. Having tried, respectfully but always unsuccessfully, to request to photograph muslim women wearing a hijab, I’ve learned that it is unproductive energy that risks making someone feel uncomfortable, no matter how sincere and politely the request is framed. So it came as a wonderful surprise when, just as the sun was lowering in the sky and the group was enthusiastically making portraits, they actually asked me to photograph them.
Behind the National Theatre, a man and a pigeon take their rest.
Feb 9th, soft, cold light on Clapham Common.
Thirty years I’ve lived in or around London and not once have I been down onto the banks of that great river.
Drew, sometime actor and runner along the southbank.
Like entwined roses swaying in the breeze they glided and circled, pirouetting with effortless ease and graceful poise.
