I love this. The combination of the song and those images, the sad and the beautiful.

Send your dreams
Where nobody hides
Give your tears
To the tide
No Time
No Time
There's no end
There is no goodbye
With the night
No Time
No Time




Finding myself in Bethnal Green, around dirty streets with perfect names, Paradise Row…Sugar Loaf Walk, not near as pretty as their pretty names would have hoped, I came across the V&A’s Museum of Childhood. Starting to rain and feeling I could do with a bit of shelter, I decided this was the right way to spend an hour or two.

The museum houses the Victoria and Albert Museum's collection of childhood-related objects and artefacts, spanning the 1600s to the present day. Floors of intriguing, delicately intricate toys behind vast vitrines, from Anamorphoscopes to marionette puppets that verge on the sinister. Obsessive doll’s houses populate the upper floor creating a miniature city inhabited by very little people whose houses, like Aladdin's cave, are decorated in all the luxuries thought possible.

Jake and Dino’s Chapman’s etchings from their ‘My Giant Colouring book’ series, were my little highlight, modestly displayed, these seemingly disturbed and grotesque images also had something innocent and quietly fantastical about them, creating dark scenes that subverted the intended line between dot and dot. At the entrance of the museum, greeting us and bidding a farewell, was the installation ‘The Stuff of Nightmares’. A creation inspired by the Brother’s Grimm, a menacing constructed forest based on their ‘Fundevogel’, a tale of abduction, fear, evil old women, revenge and ultimately, friendship. Made by children, this forest is their imaginary landscape. Both this and 'My Giant Colouring book' examined the dark capabilities of the imagination of children, revealing itself againts their innocence like the darkest and most violent part of the most virtuous fairy tale.

Stepping back into the chill of kebab shops and taxi ranks, feeling inspired, slightly nostalgic, and digging up memories from my earliest days, I thought about my toys, the pictures I made, the clothes my mum made that I wore...all of these things came together to assemble my own, rather more modest, Museum of Childhood.

(And if you should visit, Just up the road and to the left is Vyner street, a condensed gift of contemporary art, all on one street.)



And the sea, the sky and the music were all roseblue...so soft and conquering.



I’m worried I’ll forget
your face
When I’m far away
From today
So let me remember it
The backwards and forwards of you
The miracle of your tired baby blues
Your breath as sweet as la la la's
Those lips, full of action
I’ll drum in the east and west of you
Absorb you into the slag and settlings of my mind,
Where your face, like the Firebird
Will rise up aflame
From the deepest part of obscurity.