The Meeting Place

First, many thanks to those of you who offered interesting commentary and quite unexpected hearts for yesterday's Pride of England. The shot does symbolise a tribal aspect of our culture that alienates most English people. But it is also a product of our culture so it's perhaps important to acknowledge how it makes us feel. I should also say that, ignoring outward appearances, there was nothing to suggest that he was anything other than a nice guy having a day out with his wife and kids. You should have seen the sandcastle he'd built!

My mum had already picked up some messages and photos (from my brothers in the States and in Australia) before I got up this morning, so she really is becoming quite at home with her iPad. I did a little bit of family history research with her today, finding her grandfather and great-grandfather in the census records. Grandad was listed as a "Licensed Victualler", at the Edward the First pub in Upchurch. That jogged a few memories and also the story of a major family scandal which I will have to document. His father in turn was listed as an "Oil and Colour Man", a profession new to me, but appears to be someone who dealt in oils and the pigments with which to make up paints, a bit of a precursor to the hardware and DIY stores of today!

Travelling back north by train this afternoon I took an hour to have a little wander along the South Bank and then a quick visit to St.Pancras before catching my train from King's Cross. So much has changed since I was here almost exactly a year ago. The work they've done at King's Cross station is sensational. The new vestibule is quite stunning. It's an incredible transformation from what was a rather bleak and dreary space before.

I could easily have blipped a shot of the beautiful new roof, but I've been drawn to the famous statue at St.Pancras by sculptor Paul Day called "The Meeting Place" and particularly the more recent frieze which surrounds the plinth. I can't pretend to understand all the references around rail travel through the ages, but each vignette is amazing and I love the surreal perspectives. I took quite a few shots of various details from the frieze, but I think this is the most intriguing as a photograph. I'm also fascinated as to the status of a two-dimensional picture of a three-dimensional sculpture. Can the photographer lay any claim at all upon the resulting art?