Wintersketch from London, Thursday 1 Feb 2001
London was wrapped in silvery fog, tracing the contours of buildings and printing them onto a grey background more precisely than a Photoshop magic wand could. The morning appeared scanned in greyscale while at the bus stops people were waiting for red buses, anxiously on the edge of the kerb stone not to miss the colour appearing from nothing. River Thames oceanised with the other bank overwritten by weightless drops of water.
The entire scene reminded me of nothing more than the German poet Rainer Maria Rilke's "Im Nebel", where the poet describes a fog scene as a mysterious place and ends off with the lines
"No man sees another
Standing on a foggy London bus stop feels curiously different, though: The all-wrapping, enclosing fog seems to herd us together in a strange community based on the opaqueness of the surroundings.
I suppose I will have a similar feeling in a few months time when the graduates of London Contemporary Dance School together enter their uncertain future..