Watching the detectives

While bumming around London just over a week ago, killing time before the Karl Bartos lecture at the NFT, I came upon a strange scene by the Thames. One young lady, engrossed in her book, was being photographed by a stranger sitting nearby. I snapped the 'voyeur', only to tun and discover that someone had been observing me, making notes. A timely reminder that the watcher is also watched.

But what of motivation? I was moved to take the photograph by beauty - one attractive young lady capturing another, deep in contemplation. What was her motivation - the yellow sneakers or the look of concentration on her subject's face?

What motivated the chap to observe me and take notes? Was it my brown skin, shoulder bag and inquisitive, camera-snappin' nature? Did he consider me a danger to river barges, fishes and pollution? He rode off when he realised I was walking towards him, but he hopefully immortalised (fictionalised?) me in his notebook.

'Voyeur's Verse'

I watch you quietly from afar
in the searing summer heat,
conscience pricked
by my lonely heartbeat.

21st August 2003