Was waiting for a new passport. Walked around a familiar part of London. The big fat bustling touristy part.
Westminster more than triples its population density from 300,000 to just over a million during working hours throughout the week. Walk down by the Thames.
Up to Convent Garden. Where there’s a charismatic busker who can’t juggle or sing or balance on a unicycle. He can pull a crowd and fill his hat for what he’s worth. Location.
Location. Inside the market a man sits on a banister in the level bellow, in a closed cafe. He sings songs from films. His voice fills the space. From the basement to the the arched glass ceilings and to each end of the hall. Powerful stuff. The place is empty.
When he sings ‘Imagine’ from ‘Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory’ I almost have a little teary moment.
Outside the National gallery a man does a trick where he eats a balloon and pulls over one-hundred quid. Location.