London has a number of famous cultural icons – black cabs, Big Ben, red double Decker buses. And the London Underground. 

Love it or loath it, it has been part of London’s travel experience and history since January 1863 when the Metropolitan started running between Paddington and Farringdon Street.  It has now evolved to a sprawling network that runs from Hertfordshire to Mordon and Croydon. 

What caught my eye was a recent story that 16 more Tube stations (bit.ly/qJL8zM) are now listed (which means that have some protection from being changed or altered), which brings the number of listed London Underground stations to 72. What I hadn’t realised was that 56 were already listed. 

Many of the Underground stations were built in the early part of the 20th Century, and really reflect the ideas of the time. Many of my favourite stations are the art deco buildings that dot the extensions of the Tube lines to the suburbs. I was reminded by this when I was waiting for a train at Rayners Lane in North London. 

I agree with preserving heritage and historical buildings, and am glad to see more Tube stations being protected. However, I was interested to read a critical article from The Telegraph (bit.ly/nDXvm2). It argues that the further 16 buildings that were listed is overkill and what is really needed is upgrading of the system. 

Upgrading the Tube system is an issue that need to be addressed. The Underground network strains at times to cope with a 21st Century London. However, getting rid of some of the historical buildings isn’t necessarily the answer. While I like some of the newer stations – Canary Wharf is a case in point – I wouldn’t necessarily want all of the Underground stations to look like that. 

What I enjoy about many of the Tube stations is that they are unique and reflect the era they were built in. The Underground stations reflect idiosyncratic nature of the English, particularly in London. 

Working within a existing transport system that’s about 150 years old isn’t always easy. However, but demolishing it’s history isn’t really the forward.

Some photos appear rather unexpected. I was taking photos of graffiti in Hoxton and Shoreditch, East London recently. It was getting late in the day, and the winter light was fading quickly. 

I happened upon some graffiti of a mother holding a child in a doorway near Hoxton Square. The image of a mother and child can be very powerful and can also hold a lot of - sometimes conflicting – emotions. It was hidden down a side street, but hard to miss due to its size. 

One of earliest human experiences, as well as relationships, is most often of our mothers. This bond often influences us for the rest of our lives. The mother and child bond is often idealised, but can also be fraught with difficulties. 

Childbirth is also heavily influenced by social mores of a time and place. What struck me about this particular image was that it hinted at something a bit risqué. 

A mother standing in a doorway, possibly in an alleyway – what was the story? Was she hiding from something, or someone? Was the child born out of wedlock, in a time when this was less acceptable? Or perhaps she was just pausing for a moment, sheltering from the elements?

The image was a simple one, but holds a powerful story - or stories - for the viewer. It was much more powerful in black and white rather than colour. 

I was also caught by the paradox of where the graffiti was (side street) and its size (much larger than the average human). It did make me wonder whether this was indicative of how society views motherhood. On one hand, humanity’s need to sanitise and idealise motherhood; and on the other the undercurrent of how it really is. 

Whatever is happening around the mother and child, he underlying tone of the image is one of nurturing and protection. 

The above image is available to buy as a print.

Westfield Shopping Centre interests me, not so much for the shops that are housed there, but the architecture. I have passed through a number of times, sometimes with my camera, and other times I just look at the architecture.

On one of these occasions recently, I was passing by the bus and train terminal and a sign caught my eye. Living in London, signs are everywhere, and are taken for granted. What captured my interest was that the sign was directing pedestrians back to the front of the shopping centre and the transport hub.

This may not be a particularly surprising, but it wasn’t the way I wanted to go. I was headed off towards Holland Park – the route was completely acceptable (ie wasn’t trespassing, breaking any laws, etc).

What it made me realise is how much signs play a part of urban life, and how much they influence us. To some point, we don’t really question them as they often do serve a valuable service in keeping society functioning.

I may sound a bit cynical, but I did wonder whether what the motive was behind the sign. What struck me about this sign was it appeared it was trying to get me to go back and possibly spend more money in the shopping mall.

Whatever the motive was behind the sign, it did provide me with a good photographic opportunity. It is a very urban photo – a sign hung on a fence overlooking a busy bypass below with tower blocks on the other side. Shrubs and weeks were hinting at the bottom.

The image was taken quickly on a digital point and shoot camera, but that seems a bit irrelevant. It’s an image that many people have walked passed, but may only have been seen superficially.

A couple of months ago, I was wandering towards Charing Cross Road, between St Martin in the Fields and the church offices. 

There is a skylight letting light into the church’s meeting rooms below street-level that has sayings inscribed in it.

A few words caught my eye – particularly ‘home’. Home can be very difficult to define sometimes, and often has complex issues surrounding it.

On the physical level, it is the roof over one’s head; and not everyone has access to shelter. How we define this can vary dramatically from generation to generation, and around the world. What some consider basics are luxuries for others.

Being an architectural photography, I am very interested in the fabric of home. I enjoy how different materials and designs affect the look, feel and mood of a structure. While I have my own tastes on architecture, I do appreciate how architectures defines a living space.

But there was something else about the word ‘Home’ that drew me to it.

Jennifer Kavanagh makes a good point in her book The O of Home: home is so much more than the walls or the city / country where we live in. Ultimately, we need to feel at home with ourselves. 

Being at home with ourselves isn’t easy, and many of us, if not most, struggle with it. In many ways, the buildings around us can reflect what’s going on inside. However, architecture can also influence how people feel. Light and airy buildings are often much more uplifting than dark ones.

Ultimately, how much we feel at home in ourselves and in our surroundings is down to us. However welcoming we make ourselves and our surroundings is something within our control. 

There is an old saying – the only constant is change. I have been thinking of this over the last few months as my photography has gone through subtle changes over the years. 



I have been taking photos since my mid-teens, and I find it interesting how my photography has changed over the years, as well as the meaning of photos I have taken. 

Like many artists, much of my photography reflects my life and what I see around me. It has been influenced by my interests, experience, technological change and other artists as much as what has caught my eye.

I have experimented with different technologies – various films, monochrome and colour, digital and analogue – and with different subjects – people, buildings, and abstracts. Like many artists, I am sure I will keep experimenting. 

My creativity ebbs and flows, and sometimes I find my creativity flowing more than other times. What I have found is not to force myself to take photos when the ideas dry up. For me, it’s a period that my subconscious is thinking. 

Increasingly, I am finding my photography is becoming more thoughtful and pensive. Instead of frantically trying to capture every fleeting moment, I am finding myself taking more time to capture the essence of what’s around me. 

Perhaps this is a result of my photography becoming more mature; or perhaps it’s a change in direction, however slight. No matter what the reason, I am finding my creative and photography a journey, and a journey that’s quite reflective of my life and how I see the world around me. This may not be surprising or shocking, as I am sure that many artists feel the same way.