I'm in Houston for the first time and this was my view from the cab on the way into the city. Wow. Does that say America or what? It's big and appears out of nowhere, designed around the car and has this weird quirky charm which it takes you a while to get, and sometimes it just makes you want to scream. That's of course without having set a foot in Houston at this point.
I also like the strange angle of the taxameter.
I took this picture a while ago during the Frieze Art Fair in London’s Regents Park. It was during my lunchbreak and I really appreciated the sight of rabbits on the green grass, no matter how large they were. The really interesting thing was that it made me appreciate the grass more, its greenness, its texture and the way it covered everything. The art pointed me in the direction of nature by its artificiality.
Also more in line with the actual theme of this blog: I was struck by how easily I recognised the rabbits from far away. The ears were the give away and where they sat on the head. There is obviously a cultural understanding of the necessary elements of the sign that constitutes rabbit. It might be an interesting experiment to do with children to see at what point a rabbit is no longer a rabbit. 
I’d forgotten this little quirk of India. It truly shows how cultural norms define the language and interfaces of a country. In India a country which largely (espouses – opposite) the eating of meat, the question you are asked is “veg or non-veg?” The defining paradigm is therefore the addition of meat, not the subtraction of it from your diet.
By the way the best answer is almost always veg unless you are in an area like Goa, as the food is just so much more varied and finely spiced. Truly exquisite and no need at all for meat.
A transcultural play on road signage. The two types of road signs are so iconic because the codes that they use are instantly recognisable and identifiable. The London sign is somehow down to earth. It instantly places you not only in Turnmill Street but also in East London, via the postcode. London is an organic city of different interlinked areas, so it is vital to know where you are in those areas. Whereas the Parisian sign has a French aesthetic with design elements that go beyond the functional and only add to the style.
None of the other bells look like they work. But I wanted to ring this bell as soon as I saw it. Someone has lovingly designed and executed this invitation to ring their bell. How perfect. I didn’t ring the bell though.
I took this picture this morning on my way to a meeting. The sight of the Eiffel Tower and the other highly recognisable symbols of Paris juxtaposed with people just on their way to work, crossing the road with the traffic lights on red. It made me think how when you live in a city filled with significant objects that are part of the cultural map of the world that you often create your own map and redefine the significance of those objects. For example, for me in London, the Embankment is the easiest way to get into the City. Albert Bridge is how I know I’m home. Or Hyde Park is the quickest and most attractive way to get to Paddington. I am navigating the city for practical reasons so I give these signifiers a practical meaning, above and beyond their cultural significance. And as I write, I’m thinking maybe that’s what living and loving a city or a location is all about – having your own personal overlay on the cultural map which the world has created.
Oh and the other thing I thought in Paris was, “Wow, I do have a great job, getting to just wander to a meeting in Paris, past this view!” So maybe I’m not as jaded as I thought.
I instantly loved this sign when I saw it. Somehow it reassures me that there has always been the aspiration to get “tomorrow’s news today” .The constancy of that aspiration actually negates what it’s striving for.
Modern life is a lot about waiting. I’m not the first person to notice this. But in India I realised that there is a fine art to waiting. Cultures which have probably traditionally involved a lot of waiting due to their size and structures are already better set up to “wait” than say a culture like Western Europe where we expect things to happen on time and with little inconvenience.
So for example traditional Indian dress helps you to wait better, because the sari is just one simple piece of cloth which can be used as a sheet or something to sit or rest on. A cotton handkerchief which many Indian men seem to carry can be used to cover your eyes or face, whilst you are sleeping or resting in public. Food which consists of several dishes such as a thali or Southern Indian “meal” can be more easily packed up into several containers. And not insignificantly being able to eat it with your fingers eliminates the need for a table and cutlery.
The one slightly less optimal thing that stood out to me in India which is maybe less to do with waiting, and more to do with travelling, is the paucity of rucksacks in India. I wonder (without any basis for this supposition) if it is somehow lowering your status in India to carry things on your back, for my travelling partner and I were the only ones with rucksacks – I’m of course ignoring any other non-Indian travellers.
It's been a while since I wrote but that's been mainly because of too much travel for work and some holiday. The holiday was in India which is a country I've loved since my first visit. I was so pleased to be able to go back.
One thing that struck me and strikes me every time I go to India is how much this is a culture of non-verbal communication (despite at the same time being a culture firmly grounded in the written word). We went to a Kathakali dance performance which we both loved because it was like pantomime and Punch and Judy rolled into one, with amazing beautiful costumes to boot. The skill of the dancers lies in their ability to be able to isolate individual muscles on their neck and face. They move these in combination with hand gestures to express the multitude of human emotions.
But India also communicates on a day to day level. It's particularly visible in the head wagging that you see everywhere. Contrary to some other commentators, for me this head wagging has never signified a concrete yes. Instead it signifies a gesture of awareness. It says "yes, I've noticed you, I'm listening to you, I'm taking in what you are saying". It can also mean a simple exchange of humanity: for me this was most striking when I started wagging my head at people from the bus or boats that we were on. They would often pause and then sort of shake their heads back. For me, it was as if we were saying to each other "yes, you and I, we are both here on this planet and we've just acknowledged each other as human beings". It helped me to forget the slight unease that one often experiences in ex-colonial countries where you are the tourist.
Went round Battersea Power Station last weekend with friends. It was truly amazing and I want to write more about it when I have more time. Topline thoughts: today's buildings are perfectly designed for their purpose but have nothing extraneous which actually adds to the design. The Power Station had lots of little elements which made the design all the more powerful because they were not necessary to the function of the building. The way one of the inside walls was tiled. The ceilings. Brick work which was truly beautiful and unncessary from a purely utiliterian point of view.
Maybe it's just easiest if I put up some pictures. 
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