I am waiting for my green tea to brew while sat on the floor. I’m facing towards the West, and having spent so much time here recently, I’m beginning to feel as if I’m living in Centre Point. But really, I can’t complain. Who would?
I can feel the orange and blood red hues on my face as I look out toward the sunset. Camera in hand – snap. I’ve been shooting every few minutes now since 8pm, watching the sun sink beneath the horizon in the distance by Wembley. Oxford Street it seems isn’t all that bad when seen from above; the street lights are beginning to glow, Tottenham Court Road too. Its silent here up on the 20th floor. Silent enough so, that the sound of the camera is all that seems to echo in these 4 walls.
The wails of Soho, Fitzrovia, Bloomsbury and the city below are beneath my feet and couldn’t be further from my ears and my thoughts. To the East, the buildings of the city are lit up glowing red in the dying sunlight, The Shard south of the river Thames too. Another brutalist building, The Barbican, is still just about visible in the light as the planes pass overhead on route West towards Heathrow.
The sun is dipping beneath the horizon now, and what catches my eyes in the distance is the silhouette of the BT Tower, and a flashing siren racing towards North London. You could sit here for hours, for days. I guess you could say a view can inspire anybody, and cure a days stresses in a few moments. There are few words which say it better so; this is an enviable view, and a rare home.