I was passing through Westfield shopping centre in Shepherds Bush, West London recently, and they still had their Christmas lights up. It was just after Christmas, and I had a slight ‘after-the-event’ feeling.

With the build up to Christmas – as with other religious celebrations around this time of year, there is such emphasis on light and colour to offset the darkness and bleakness of mid-winter. I really appreciated that the lights were still up at the shopping centre because the days are still rather short.

The lights at the shopping centre were just asking me to take a picture of them. The pictures I took were snaps as I didn’t have much time. However, I did managed to get a few that I really liked.

Not all of my photos turn out when I am taking them in haste, but sometimes I do get some that turn out quite nicely. The nice thing about digital is I can delete any that I don’t think – although, I have deleted some I liked in haste, which can be irritating!

I am sure that the Christmas lights will slowly disappear over the coming days and weeks – not only at Westfield’s, but around London. My Christmas tree has finally been tucked away.

I find there is a certain sadness to putting away the lights – I wish to hold onto them when the nights are so long.

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.

I was walking towards St Martin’s Lane in London today and noticed a road sign that was mischievously been defaced. I am not entirely sure how long it had been like this, and I am sure many had passed by the sign without noticing what had been done to it. 

I was, however, drawn to taking a photo of the sign. Whether this would be considered graffiti or simply a defaced sign is neither here nor there as I would tend to think it’s a bit of both. 

However, it did make me think that the role of photography can be a complex one, and is often taken for granted in countries or areas where there is a greater freedom to take photos. 

Photography can capture moments and memories; it can shock by presenting the viewer with subjects that are not only unpalatable, but also challenging the viewer’s sensibilities; it can challenge authority as well as perpetuate propaganda; it can be truthful as well as being manipulated. However, it can also present a mischievous and humorous side of the photographer. 

I was struck this week, along with many others, by the image of the kissing couple surrounded by the ice hockey riots in Vancouver after the final of the Stanley Cup game. Whether the image is ‘real’ or staged is really irrelevant. The image presents the viewer with the paradox of the riot violence with the intimate and tender kiss between lovers. 

The act, and the photograph, not only challenges the violence of riot, but also is rather mischievous in the way that it is such a public display of intimacy amongst the surrounding violence. 

While the defaced street sign probably doesn’t challenge society in the way of the kiss amongst the riot does, the image does represent a level of mischievousness in English society against authority and regulation. In a way, it does symbolise the paradox in human nature to control, but also subvert. 

The National Sports Centre, situated in the middle of Crystal Palace Park, is a good example of a functional and modernist, if not slightly brutalist, architecture. 

Opened in 1964, and a Grade II* listed building, it is steeped in sporting history. It is situated on the original Crystal Palace Football Club’s football ground, and the site also hosted the FA Cup final from 1895 to 1914 as well as other sports. 

How sports are housed says a lot about a nation, and where sports sits within it. Sports venues tend to be bold statements on a nation’s sporting pride. Although, the National Sports Centre is being usurped somewhat by the Olympic Park in Stratford, it has played a significant role in Britain’s sporting heritage. 

As a photographer, I find myself drawn to modernist architecture as it often lends itself well to be photography. However, on a personal level, I have mixed feeling towards modern architecture. When done right, it can be light, airy, spacious and forward thinking. When done poorly, it is brutal and unwelcoming. 

Not surprisingly, the National Sports Centre is a very functional building, and the modern architecture reflects the 1960s. It is a bold, modern statement and looking towards the future, and state of the art for its time. 

What really drew my eye to the Centre were the lights in front of the building. The white, pointed structures can be easily mistaken as art. It was not until I was leaving the Centre that I realised they were lights – as I only ever saw the building during the day. 

The white structures give contrast and texture to the grey concrete of the Centre. They are almost space-like. 

Often I am passing by the National Sports Centre en route to somewhere else, but have taken snapshots on my digital point and shoot digital camera. 

I do plan, however, to take photos on a larger camera. However, I have yet to decide whether to take them in black and white or colour. It may be best to photograph them in both!

Gaudí. The name is, at least in English, is synonymous with being over the top and garish. It was not until I visited Barcelona a few years ago that I not only fell in love with Gaudí’s work, but also really began to appreciate it. 

Antoni Plàcid Guillem Gaudí i Cornet was an architect who lived in Barcelona and who worked during the Modernisme (Art Nouveau) period. However, he became famous for his unique and highly individualistic designs.

Gaudí studied nature's angles and curves and incorporated them into his designs and mosaics. This is what drew me to Gaudí when I saw his work when I saw it in Barcelona. The blatant copying and incorporating of the natural world gave his work an organic feel and texture. 

I found myself drawn to taking mostly colour images of Gaudí’s work – on my trusted FujiFilm Velvia. 

The Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família, commonly known as the Sagrada Família, is probably the most famous of Gaudí’s. The large Roman Catholic Church in central Barcelona is hard to miss. It is an impressive building, even though it’s still being built. 

While the Sagrada Família a remarkable building, another building really appealed to me. The Casa Milà, better known as La Pedrera (Catalan for 'The Quarry'), is a gem of a building. Along with the Sagrada Família, the building exemplifies Gaudí’s appreciation of the natural world. 

I could hardly take my camera away from my eye. The reason? Both internally and externally, La Pedrera is a beautiful showcase of Gaudí’s work. 

The building holds a treat for the visitor – a treat that is apparent from street level. On the roof, sits its chimneys. But these chimneys are like not ordinary chimneys - not with Gaudí being the architect. 

Somehow, there couldn’t be simply one, or even two chimneys. There were more than I could count, and they weren’t all the same. Like the natural world, nothing was really exactly the same. There was variance and difference. However, this variance and difference sat comfortably with each other and gives the visitor a sense of harmony. 

The chimneys presented me with some wonderful photo opportunities. The mosaics and beige and white deco contrasted nicely with the bright blue February sky. 

Gaudí’s work demands you look at it in ways that most other artists or architects don’t. It has pushed the boundaries in ways that no had done before, or even since. It may be garish; it may be over the top; it may be decadent. But it’s earthy - it taps into something quite fundamental. 

While researching my trip to Liverpool a few years ago, I found it rather interesting that I could find an architectural guide of the city much more easily than a tourist book on the city.

Being interested in architecture, I really was looking forward to the trip, and, to be honest, wasn’t disappointed. As a photographer, I was spoiled for choice.

Although the Liverpool was going through huge regeneration project of the time, it already had some remarkable, and very photographic, buildings. I could really sense the Maritime past; a past which made Liverpool a very rich.

So, the question for me was: where do I begin?

Picking up on its history, I decided to mainly photograph the city with 1600 black & white film (a higher ISO with more grain); pushing the film to 3200 to get an even grainer feel. I was fortunate, in a way, as much of the time I was there was overcast, which help give my photos of the transforming city its maritime feel, texture and smells.

While exploring the regenerated docks, I came across one of the most iconic buildings in Liverpool. The Royal Liver Building is which is located at Pier Head and sits along the eastern side of the Mersey Estuary, and is home to two fabled Liver Birds that watch over the city and the sea. Legend has it that if these two birds to fly away, then the city would cease to exist.

It was built for the Royal Liver Assurance Group as it needed larger premises, and opened in 1911. The Group had been set up in the city in 1850 to provide locals with assistance related to losing a wage-earning relative.

Designed by Walter Aubrey Thomas, the building became the first major structure in Britain, and one of the first buildings in the world to be constructed using reinforced concrete. The building's radical design was considered by some to be impossible to build.

The Royal Liver Building is one of a number of buildings in Liverpool that really caught my eye and was very drawn to it. It is a very functional and egalitarian building dominating the riverside view, but also aesthetically pleasing. It’s a modern building, but not out of place with older buildings within the city. It is also a building that can be photographed well in both black and white as well as colour.

The favourite image I took of the Royal Liver Building is from the docks. Although slightly hidden, the building peers out from behind neighbouring buildings with the two Liver Birds on top. The grainy and textured image recognised the maritime and economic memory of the city as well as the impact of its buildings.

A friend of mine, who used to work for the Royal Ontario Museum (ROM), had encouraged me to visit the Museum to see The Crystal, the new front they were building. She knew I am interested in photographing architecture, and knew that I would like taking pictures of it. .

Founded in 1912, the ROM is the largest museum in Canada for world culture and natural history. It has maintained close relations with the university throughout its history and became an independent institution in 1968.

The architecture style of the original building and eastern wing is Italianate Neo-Romanesque. Opened in 1933, the eastern wing facing Queen's Park included the Museum's elaborate art deco, Byzantine-inspired rotunda and a new main entrance.

First opened in 2007, the Crystal, the deconstructivist crystalline-form front, was designed by Daniel Libeskind and was controversial. Public opinion was divided on its merits.

I had my reservations about seeing the Crystal, the ROM’s newest extension. Not all architects are sensitive when altering or adding to buildings. When visiting Toronto after The Crystal’s opening in 2007, I was intrigued, and really liked what the Libeskind had done. Not all new architecture sits well with older styles, but this combination worked for me.

I was presented, as a photographer, with a very linear and geometric architecture that also reflected the world back to you, but allowed you to see into the Museum at the same time.

What I found interesting was the overall aim of the Crystal - to provide openness and accessibility. It seems to seek to blur the lines between the threshold between the public area of the street and the more private area of the building.

Because of the sun’s shadows and the grey and glass of the building, I felt the building lent itself to being photographed in B&W film. Initially, I was annoyed that you could see the reflections of the bustling Toronto street behind me in the windows. I was seeking something a look more calm – and wanted to see more of what was going on in the building.

However, the reflections grew on me. I showed the photos to some of my friends, who really liked reflections. They could see everyday life surrounding the building and it gave the Museum context.

It made me realise that the line between public and private wasn’t as demarcated as I had assumed, or sometimes liked. It’s often very difficult to know where the line is.

The geometric lines of The Crystal are often deceiving as it gives a sense of structure and order – where underneath it, the boundaries between private and public are much more fluid and fudged. It allowed visitors to get beneath the skin of the Museum and explore the exhibitions held within it as well as appreciating the world outside it.