there i was out and about enjoying the wintry weather in london. the walk had been brisk. i was on a mission to see art.
those, lucky people, who know me know that i am not a great lover of mobile phones. yes i can talk up a storm when i am called on mine, when i remember to take it with me and when i remember to answer it. mostly i see them as a necessary evil. if pushed i would have to say it isn't the phone technology that i see as evil but the changes it brings out in people. some people can't exist without them, unable to sit in the cinema without sending a text or taking a call. some people can't walk down the street without texting their friends. others just talk very (very) loudly no matter where they are and what they are talking about.
the private thrust into the public.
so there i was approaching firth street gallery (oddly located in golden square) when i can hear the voice of a young woman.
she is loud.
she is not happy.
she is telling a man exactly what she thinks of him.
she tells him that he is disgusting, that he is immoral, she wonders how he can sleep at night.
she is loud and she is not happy.
as she continues her tirade she walks up and down the pavement oblivious of all those passing by her.
for a moment i thought that she was a very posh bird working on a sex chat line until she finished her tirade with: "all you think of are your bricks and mortar - you will die a very lonely man."
good to see the spirit of christmas is alive and well.