London
There is no fogs, gloominess and grey tones. But Sherlock Holmes definitely exists and it is impossible to get rid of the feeling that he really lived here ...
All
A city of eternity and the Gulf Stream, brick-red and cherry-pink with white-rimmed windows and full of gingerbread houses of exquisite filigree architecture at the center of Westminster...
and even behind the back of the stone figure of Lincoln, on a pedestal, there is a chair at the back - as if in the evening he wipes his forehead with his sleeve, sits down and says - ugh, thank gods, the day is over ...
London....
...a city of huge green parks right in the center - with forests, fields and water where huge flocks of birds are swimming and diving
not flocks, but herds, because they graze around people on the grass and paths, crowd and roam along with squirrels and children...
the entire population lies on the grass on sunny days in the parks, not drinking beer at the pubs or sitting at the small tables of the cafe but chatting cheerfully and loudly.
and around there is just a sea of flowers in baskets and on window sills, and some houses look so much like flower beds that it seems that someone has simply sworn to plant every section of the wall of his house with red and pink flowers ..
Yes, there are telephone booths. They are everywhere and they are working...
And yes, there are buses. Double-deckers and mostly red, on the second floor of which I rolled to my heart's content, so that the dream of an idiot that haunted me in Hong Kong came true.
wandering around London, I was drawing sketches - small running drawings.
I simply could not tear myself away, admiring all those endless turrets and graphic curves of private architecture - a city-dance of private antiquity, snow-white and grayish-red tones.
and even behind the back of the stone figure of Lincoln, on a pedestal, there is a chair at the back - as if in the evening he wipes his forehead with his sleeve, sits down and says - ugh, thank gods, the day is over ...
London....
colorful and painted, refined, branded, western and oriental, gastronomic, ancient, ultra-modern, it’s impossible to beat this spirit by brightly dressed people of all nationalities or by famous brands…
...a city of huge green parks right in the center - with forests, fields and water where huge flocks of birds are swimming and diving
not flocks, but herds, because they graze around people on the grass and paths, crowd and roam along with squirrels and children...
the entire population lies on the grass on sunny days in the parks, not drinking beer at the pubs or sitting at the small tables of the cafe but chatting cheerfully and loudly.
and around there is just a sea of flowers in baskets and on window sills, and some houses look so much like flower beds that it seems that someone has simply sworn to plant every section of the wall of his house with red and pink flowers ..
Yes, there are telephone booths. They are everywhere and they are working...
And yes, there are buses. Double-deckers and mostly red, on the second floor of which I rolled to my heart's content, so that the dream of an idiot that haunted me in Hong Kong came true.
wandering around London, I was drawing sketches - small running drawings.
I simply could not tear myself away, admiring all those endless turrets and graphic curves of private architecture - a city-dance of private antiquity, snow-white and grayish-red tones.
