SouthBank Summer Rose
09 . 2021
A stormy day in summer. One of my favorite things to experience is a summer storms. I love the weight that is felt in the air. The pressure the clouds hold as they encapsulate you in a moist muggy heat. I love how people scatter inside at the fist drop of rain, dressed in skimpy summer cloths totally unprepared for the slightly brisker wind that whips though the city, after becoming so used to the sun kissing exposed flesh. The small areas of grass only this morning covered in picnic blankets and cigarette butts become suddenly void as faces feel the first drops of the imminent rain. In only minuets thunderclaps are shaking scaffold clad Big Ben and lighting hides the shard whose tip once reached a blue skyline.
I walked along Southbank white crocs on my feet umbrella in hand watching the storm and this painting was my experience. My friend cycled from Dalston to meet me. He arrived drenched in only seconds, but like me had a passion for summer storms. we walked between Tate Modern and Brittan serval times before finding a bag of discarded roses on millennial bridge – a physical representation of how someone had simply dropped everything and ran, maybe to escape the rain or maybe a heart break, who knows? My friend handed me the rose before returning home.