Walking Distance

At first I was walking to get the lay of the land. When we first moved here all we could afford to do was walk to this park or the other, drinking cheap beers from the offie. I loved Hackney from my first day.

Walking to and from work, cutting through green spaces, was almost faster than the lumbering over crowded bus.

Walking home from a party in the wee hours, spotting shy foxes nosing through empty wrappers in the Tesco carpark or slipping through fences.

Walking in the summer past ripened roses heavy with scent. Walking in the winter’s darkened afternoons. Through the lifting smoke of a family barbecue in London Fields. Past gossiping Turkish neighbours. The buskers and the bubble man of Mare Street. Revisiting a certain corner until the light hit it just right.

Walking while heavily pregnant, the only form of exercise left. My plan was to walk to Homerton Hospital to give birth, but that plan didn't work out.

Walking as a new mother, my son nestled on my chest, it was nice to get out of the house. Small smiles at other bleary eyed mat leavers. This new tiny life making the same old streets seem as intoxicating as when I first moved here.

Being able to walk everywhere in Hackney with ease makes London feel manageable, a veritable village where you can’t walk down Broadway Market without bumping into someone you know.

After 4 years it’s home but not home, as in, I feel wholly comfortable but still excited and intrigued as if I’m a tourist on holiday.

This is an exploration of my surroundings - all shot on 35mm and 120mm film. A poetic musing on Hackney. A love letter to a London Borough. I'm trying to see beyond the typical and cliche version of Hackney. This is a small selection of a larger body of work.