Canterbury Cathedral

It was another beautiful blue sky day yesterday so Modman, Brewgirl and I headed into Canterbury for a wander through the medieval town…

…and a visit to the famous 11th century cathedral of The Canterbury Tales. I’d always meant to visit (I’ve been in England over 20 years!) but never managed to. Here was my chance.

The newly clean stone shone in the winter sunlight but nothing prepared me for its size. The towers are cleverly designed to make them look even taller when you’re standing directly in front of the façade.

Inside, the cathedral seemed even more immense, the Gothic arches soaring to points overhead and fanning out like the branches of sky-scraping trees.

We walked around the nave until we found ourselves under the main tower. Then we looked up…to heaven.

Then through another archway, and the “newer” addition. more Romanesque than Gothic.

The most touching thing is the candle lit to honour the memory of St Thomas a Becket http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Becket, the 12th century priest murdered on 29th December 1170 in the cathedral by knights of Henry II. I stood on the spot exactly 843 years later to the day.

Every now and then my eye was caught by the swish of clerical skirts…

…or a glimpse through a half-open door of life behind the scenes.

The bright sun of the winter day filtered through the stained glass windows…

…lighting corners and illuminating details.

The sun wasn’t the only thing to sneak in.

If you find yourself on English soil, do make a visit to Canterbury Cathedral. It is awe-inspiring.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canterbury_Cathedral

Today I Am Mostly Drawing

It’s a work day today. Drawing up designs for a client’s flat.

Work. Work. Work. Draw. Draw. Draw.

Window Dressing

I walk down the street in Chelsea and spot some movement in the windows of Peter Jones’s department store…

On the 11 Bus

I hopped the Number 11 bus (a fab new double-decker design by designer Thomas Heatherwick) with my flatmate Tango Girl yesterday to head across town from Chelsea to an urban art fair in the East End (The Other Art Fair http://www.theotherartfair.com/ ). It’s a slow ride across town, but our feet hurt (I’d been tangoing that morning and then we’d spent some hours walking around Chelsea sourcing fabrics for clients, and we fancied taking in the views. Because this is one of those buses tourists should know about but don’t.

We passed by Westminster Abbey, where I caught a glimpse of the Clock Tower and the Millennium Wheel…

…and headed up to Trafalgar Square where Nelson stares down Whitehall towards the Parliament buildings…

…then we headed down Fleet Street towards St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Just beyond, on the right, a glimpse of the Millennium footbridge (AKA the Wobbly Bridge) leading to the Tate Gallery.

The bus trundled eastwards, snaking between buses and taxis, deep into “The City” — the heart of the finance world. Mansion House, the Lord Mayor of London’s official residence, came into view. The Bank of England on the left, and the thrusting skyscrapers of the new “City”, and cranes building more new buildings, a backdrop behind.

We hopped off at Liverpool Street Station and wandered through Spitalfields Market where I admired the goat statue, then it was down through Whitechapel, past the infamous Ten Bells Pub (of Jack the Ripper fame) to the art fair.

Battersea Power Station

I’m on the train from Herne Hill to Victoria Station today and we pass the long-defunct smokestacks of Battersea Power Station…

…and I suck in my breath. Breathless. It dominates the skyline like nothing else in London.

It’s my favourite London building — unapologetically monumental. Stream-lined. Masculine. An Art Deco icon. The scaffolding has gone up. The plans have been approved. It’s now, finally, getting a new lease of life. Apartments, a hotel, shops, art galleries. I can’t wait.

A Child’s View of the Future

I spent yesterday at the Museum of Childhood in London with Hankenstein, Tootsie and Bubby (Hankenstein’s glamorous grandmother) at an art event where children were invited to work with artists to create art of their views of the future. It was a fantastic day with terrific energy bouncing around the room. And the art! Ohh!

Hankenstein’s idea of the future was: “There would be loads of chicken to eat…loads. And we would eat on really nice china. Everyone would have loads of food. Oh, and there would be robots that took over the Underground.”

So, artist Linney stepped forward and Hankenstein art directed her mural…

While she was working, Hankenstein had a chance to work on his own art with the other kids…

…and we had a look at what the other artists and kids were up to…

We headed back to Linney to see how she was getting on. “We need whales,” Hankenstein said. “Whales?” Linney asked. “Yes, three, In the sky.” Hankenstein said, crossing his arms and nodding decisively. “Okay. Whales it is,” Linney said, picking up her blue marker.

When it was finished, Hankenstein looked at it and nodded. “Just like I thought.”

http://www.museumofchildhood.org.uk/home/

Moroccan Architecture

And, of course, the architecture in Morocco is different. I am always double-taking, and yelling out “Stop the car!”.

Moroccan Design

Morocco is a designer’s Paradise. Everywhere you turn, there is something to inspire. Look and you will see.

Henna Party

There was a knock on the door. It was Berberman’s mother with a pretty girl with beautiful henna tattoos covering her hands. “Latifah,” Berber Mama said, pointing at the girl. “Henna.”

We headed up to the roof of the house and sat amongst the building materials as Latifah set to work on me. She loaded up the henna syringe with unctuous black henna ink…

…and got to work on my leg.

Quicky, and so deftly, delicate flowers and curlicues appeared on my skin under her deft hand. Then, when she was finished she sprinkled the wet henna with blue and gold dust. Magic.

She started on my other leg, chatting with Berber Mama in Arabic without missing a dot or a leaf.

And I watched as she created another artwork on my leg…

…sprinkling it with more of her fairy dust.

Then it was on to my hands and my arms…

Best of all, though, was Latifah’s smile.

For the most beautiful henna tattoos in Morocco, you’ll find Latifah at the foot of the Cascades d’Ouzoud most days. Tell her Adrienne sent you.

The Shard

On the train into London Bridge I had this view of London’s latest iconic building — The Shard.