05 7 / 2013

Day 10: On a glorious summer day, I drank lemonade, chewed strawberries and sunbathed with loads more strangers on Bankside. Thank you to everyone who came by, your stories were entertaining and illuminating. People, I’ve learned, are just infinitely fascinating.

Day 10: On a glorious summer day, I drank lemonade, chewed strawberries and sunbathed with loads more strangers on Bankside. Thank you to everyone who came by, your stories were entertaining and illuminating. People, I’ve learned, are just infinitely fascinating.

05 7 / 2013

A boy in new boots plods back and forth, calling for his friends. Two girls describe the sea, how they waded to their waists but wouldn’t swim. Sat at a table, in the midday light, a woman’s diamond ring winks. During the final spell of sunshine, a helicopter snarls in the clouds and you say you fell in love this summer, with a boy who travels. With your shirt buttoned nicely, and hair combed to the left, you are delightfully, naturally neat. You’re a finely honed pencil and an upright bamboo cane. You’re a perfect peg on the washing line.

04 7 / 2013

Day 9: The most strangers ever! I had a constant stream of visitors. Many had noticed my presence at the Tate, but only decided to talk today. The sunshine brought people out of their offices and into the park, today. I found out about male and female architectural spaces, the light in Portugal and scientific approaches to art. Excellent stuff.

Day 9: The most strangers ever! I had a constant stream of visitors. Many had noticed my presence at the Tate, but only decided to talk today. The sunshine brought people out of their offices and into the park, today. I found out about male and female architectural spaces, the light in Portugal and scientific approaches to art. Excellent stuff.

04 7 / 2013

It’s your voice that charms. Softly, it speaks of the space surrounding, a philosophy of angles and openings, tree planting and land shaping. Your words draw me in with their measured certainty and calm reason. The sunshine roars into Southwark, illuminating concrete, charred wood and slices of glass. Where are the birch trees and the wild places in a city? On your farm, you grow vegetables for your neighbours. You live beyond these urban walls, away from the brick, steel, slate layers of insulation from the world outside. I nod and sip fresh elderflower cordial, agreeing with everything you say.

03 7 / 2013

Day 8: With the threat of rain all day, we opted for a gazebo covering. Felt a little like running a stall at a fete, but it did make people look closer and stop by for longer. Strangers enjoyed lemonade and elderflower fizz today, while I learned a lot about wheatgrass, Woodcraft folk and why onesies are acceptable items of clothing.

Day 8: With the threat of rain all day, we opted for a gazebo covering. Felt a little like running a stall at a fete, but it did make people look closer and stop by for longer. Strangers enjoyed lemonade and elderflower fizz today, while I learned a lot about wheatgrass, Woodcraft folk and why onesies are acceptable items of clothing.

03 7 / 2013

The sky is inexplicably angry today. To strangers, I repeat stories heard yesterday, and to office workers, walking in small, jittery motions, I offer the Sicilian lemonade. Pausing nearby, you are already laughing, asking how many stories I’ve collected. Your eyes crease happily, not like scrunched paper rather the whirling surface of a swift-moving river. With your Robert Redford tan and linen shirt, I assume you are not be the type of person to be crying at midnight, undone by sadness. Life is lived in sunshine for you, and I just want to keep having this conversation over and over.

02 7 / 2013

Day 7: From butchers to bankers, teachers to trainers, gardeners to genealogists, this was a jolly day full of fascinating stories from fascinating strangers. No one threw my ball though!

Day 7: From butchers to bankers, teachers to trainers, gardeners to genealogists, this was a jolly day full of fascinating stories from fascinating strangers. No one threw my ball though!

02 7 / 2013

Together, we long for leafy parks, green thoughts and serene pockets of the city. You and I talk of al fresco lunches and sipping fine gin while lazily tending the garden. But we feel insignificant against towering buildings, against the hammering construction work. We know why we rush from place to place. We need to be seen and heard. I was here, we want to say. Look. We are all trying to put footprints in the wet concrete of London. That image comes afterwards, belatedly, and floats before me, a shape in a paving stone, a solidity in the light.

01 7 / 2013

Day 6: A new angle for week 2, the offering of fresh Sicilian lemonade. Cocktail umbrellas and sliced limes, optional. The draw of Andy Murray on Centre Court drew people towards the free screenings of Wimbledon - I spoke to far fewer strangers than previously!

Day 6: A new angle for week 2, the offering of fresh Sicilian lemonade. Cocktail umbrellas and sliced limes, optional. The draw of Andy Murray on Centre Court drew people towards the free screenings of Wimbledon - I spoke to far fewer strangers than previously!

01 7 / 2013

I imagine you live in the only real place in this city, the home other homes aspire to. It’s a modest penthouse in an old, charming building, with fireplaces, dimmer switches and taxidermy birds in each room. Cool, swigging from a crushed water bottle, you stand apart. Tall, your torso fills a t-shirt blasted with a bold slogan. Vague, your feet are angled towards the road and you raise both your thumbs. “Are you an interior decorator?” you ask. “Nope,” I reply, wondering why I might be and thinking of my vital organs adorned with silky ribbons or paper chains.