ladder in window :: glow

The young do not value sleep, I used to spend hours every night looking out of my window. I lived on Lavender Hill, which sounds so much prettier than it actually was, had two jobs, one which started at 7am and another which ended whenever the last wine-bar punters went home. Just for fun, I also had insomnia. There were almost empty night buses passing below my window, and there were trucks delivering to the fruit and veg merchants at Nine Elms. If it was before 1am, there was the smell wafting up from the fryers at Tennessee Fried Chicken, and Drum and Bass reverberating from the Beaufoy Tavern across the road. Some nights there was my homeless, schizophrenic, stalker drawing anatomically elaborate acts of copulation all over the sidewalk, and there was a distant sodium lit view of the power station and the steel blue city beyond. I would look out of the window, listen to B.B.C. World Service, and paint the view without even turning on a bedroom light.

I spent all day today wondering about the colours in this photograph, it was only when I closed my eyes that I remembered trying to paint them in an unlit room.


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