Another day of photography with a group of photographers, this time in Canary Wharf. Turner would have loved the sky today:
I am not too keen on architecture, so I was trying to find an angle, some kind of story to tell: I thought this building looked more like some crazy mental asylum from the 50s than an expensive office block. When I was a teenager I developed the belief that I was allergic to poplar, as if its pollen had some kind of lysergic effect on me. Doesn't seem to work anymore (sadly).
So here the twilight zone theme continues with this giant menacing clock, you can imagine it to start spinning backwards.
If it does I might find that I'm still fourteen soundly asleep under a poplar tree.