I’m wandering Holbeck today as preparation for a project I’m working on for an art festival in July.
It’s a hot sticky morning but it’s not an unpleasant walk amongst the light industrial units, scarred wasteland and dumped rubbish. Birds are singing everywhere as though I were in the middle of the countryside. The weeds as so rampant and prolific it is indeed as though I were in the middle of the countryside. At least, during those moments when trains are not rattling by and lorries are not thundering through. Only the occasional pedestrian braves these desolate surroundings.
It’s the pedestrians I’m interested in. Im not sure anywhere I’ve encountered such an eclectic variety in such a small area. I don’t know who they are or where they’re going, but like the birdsong, it provides a touch of optimism to the suburb.
The same optimism that drives the advertisers to fill hoardings with exuberant but completely out of place garish colour, with promises of a world seemingly very distant to most daily lives in this part of the city.