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Writer's pictureCerys Jones

Tired of London...

13/ 10/ 2021.

“You find no man…who is willing to leave London. Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.”


These words were uttered by a certain Dr Johnson in the 18th century, but I think they still ring true today…


…Fusion, fission. Compression, pressure creates new forms, new hybrids. Unpredictability. Volatility.

Roman Londinium, via Boudicca, bridges, fires and furies, gunpowder plots and plagues, monarchs and migration, influx, flux, input and output, blitz and bombardment, has morphed over millennia into the metropolis, myriad of stories that is modern-day London.


I think it is impossible to sum up this multicultural, multiethnic, multilingual city of eight million faces, in concise English. Rather, the previous flow of emotion and ramble of thoughts seems more apt. The product of encountering a city's soul, weaved by the chronicles of millions, past, present, future.


In the same spirit, I cannot fathom nor convey London in one photograph. So I've attached a string of random images, colours and sights and thoughts, loosely related by the backdrop of the British capital. A bicycle trip to Shoreditch, a pleasing shop front in Deptford, some monstrously huge African snails, delicacies on sale in Deptford, some neon art by Borough Market, a veggie Iranian feast fit for a Persian emperor of antiquity.









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