At the Southbank we visit the ABBA exhibition. A tour guide takes us through "immersive" spaces that are supposed to bring you back to the seventies. It's all quite shabby and little researched. The only interesting thing I hear, is that the follow spotlight, also known as the Super Trouper, was for the first time produced in 1956. It was the adequate lighting for stars to shine.
Walking past the Ritz hotel in Piccadilly, A. introduces me to the word "ritzy."
Tea time at The Wolseley |
I get excited about the brutalist architecture at the Barbican, then extra excited about the Basquiat show. I feel energised when leaving: looking at art is a physical experience after all. I even debate buying the exhibition hardcover catalogue and I finally regret that I don't.
It's British love that brings me to London. I've even switched my American English for the British one. Now I don't say "fall" anymore but I say "autumn." Here a poem written out of British love (who happened to be leaving on that particular day to Beirut):
autumn autumnal
autumn colors
in autumnal autumn weather
when you leave at eleven
in the morning
for Beirut
colored autumnal you
leaving in the morning
at eleven
with the weather
of autumn
for Beirut
at eleven you were leaving
at eleven for Beirut
at eleven in the morning
in the color of autumn mood
autumn you were leaving
autumnal autumn for Beirut
autumn in the morning
colored at eleven autumnally