I don’t do this so much anymore, so I think my observational perception is a little out of tune. An aura of perception, as it was once referred to in an episode of Hancock’s Half Hour, unexpectedly. I don’t do many of the things I want to these days. Photography, cycling, I want to roam desolate lands at night. I don’t feel really very engaged with many things. It feels like work has been allowed to invade time and space too much again. I’ve started emptying space, clearing items. So much of what we accumulate is just matter, taking up space, visual clutter, noise. That other room is nearly empty now, and I still don’t want to use it for anything. It has a cold emotionless grey cloud in it. I may be the last person left in the block by next year, I think it is about half empty now. It is hard to understand the strategy. Some flats have notices on their front doors, some have had internal fittings ripped out, rendering them permanently uninhabitable. Others seem to be being offered to new people, artist people, to move in, but they are still empty. Marcus has moved along to the block next to me. The area where the linear blocks were (Municipal Flat Block 18A, Linear North) is still a waste ground enclosed by turquoise hoardings. I’d like to get inside there to photograph it. It’s like an urban desert with heaps of concrete rubble. It’s been left a long time though, long enough for weeds to grow taller than people.
I worry about the block emptying and eventual complete desolation setting in. I suppose the desert will become bigger. The walking routes through the estate will be blocked. My memory of past routes, footbridges, walkways, stairs, is now faded and unreliable. The time will come next year when I have to choose somewhere new to go. I want to stay in London where there are people I know. I’m too old to relocate and start again.
Next to me are three young men, one has long hair tied back, he looks a bit like James McAvoy. Another is an Asian guy, quite dark brown skin, hairy arms, wearing a thin white linen shirt. The third is white, quite nondescript. They’ve gone now anyway. This is why I go to places, to observe people.
Andrew Stevenson 