Collecting the Business Breakthrough of the Year award at the AJ 100 dinner.
Listening to provoking debate organised by the Architectural Workers in Cressingham Gardens, designed by Edward Hollamby.
On holiday. Meeting the uniquely engaging Monsieur Girod.
Standing where Cezanne stood, in Aix.
Sitting where the Romans (or at least their subjects) sat, in Orange.
Brewing our own beer, HTAle, at Stewart Brewing.
Recovering after the Hairy Haggis relay, with HTA.
Looking at art: Michael Sailstorfer at Jupiter Art Land.
Learning about the third Forth bridge, with the Beavers.
Taking the time to sketch Derby’s old Co-op.
Tom and Laura’s wedding (a bit I’d missed from before).
And using sketching as an excuse to avoid doing all the jobs in the garden.
People I’ve spent time listening to in the last month or so:
Joelle Mae David and others in Barking & Dagenham.
With HTA sketch club looking at one of Edinburgh’s successful incidental spaces.
After that, island hopping in the Hebrides in the spring sun.
The whole thing is great. The islands are beautiful, the weather is dramatic and the ferries that sail between them come in all shapes and sizes.
The smallest is on the five minute crossing to remote Jura.
The biggest on the sail to Arran.
Most of our time was spent on Islay, which is a much softer variety of the Hebridean harshness I’m familiar with from time on North Uist, and mixed with an astounding world class whisky industry.
It’s a short cycle between Ardbeg, Lagavulin and Laphroaig. Time to look out for the wildlife. Buzzards, stags, golden eagles. And geese.
Islay came up with this and a few islands further north they invented Harris Tweed. A tiny number of people producing products that are renowned the world over. In beautiful surroundings.
It was a great place for Fraser to recover from his minor, but fairly dramatic, head injury.
25 miles out from Cannes, the first chance in the last five days to get my sketchbook out.
We’d started in London 875 miles away. Here’s the pub the night before the off.
It’s for charity, and there are speeches on the last night to remind us of this.
Here’s a link to the charity page, if you are able to donate: https://race-nation.com/sponsor/e/64891
On the flight home, I have to face up to getting back to real life.
A day by Tower Bridge, business planning.
It’s an awayday, so there are some ‘Post It’ notes on the wall and someone’s armed with a whiteboard marker.
But how do you decide what you want to do?
and wise heads with a life time of experience to pass on.
Visit stimulating places,
Chat it through with your colleagues…
… and reflect over coffee.
In Derby for work, but holiday habits are hard to kick so I popped in to have a look at Ayrton Senna’s ’93 McLaren at Donnington Park, scene of it’s finest hour.
Before that Christmas holidays and birthday parties.
For three year old Ellan…
… and my 89 year old dad. He’s forgotten a lot but we all sang songs together.
Christmas Day: mum showing her grandchildren photos of the old days.
Grumpy in traditional post lunch pose…
…and talking planes with Fraser.
Back to work and ideas about the future of London.
Time to get on with winter training for my 1500km cycle down to Cannes in March. New year, new regime.
My business partner Ben Derbyshire is to be the next President of the RIBA. That’s quite an honour so the partners went out for a quiet dinner to celebrate.
The next day: November board. Back to the business of running a business.
People deserve better places to live, so we’ve made an organisation that tries to combine to skills to deliver this: architects, graphic designers, planners, landscape architects, cooks and others.
We don’t have all the pieces yet, but we are moving in the right direction.
Back home: the life partners: J,F, I & I. Watching Strictly.
I lost this sketch book so here’s a design idea for someone else’s house drawn at a relaxed summer barbecue.
One side of one of my sketchbooks is just over five metres long. Here are my colleagues holding one.
I drew this one for charity Article 25, http://www.article-25.org/about-article-25/
It will be auctioned at the RIBA in a couple of weeks. As it’s five metres long, there might not be that many people interested in it (that will be my excuse) but there are 99 other drawings and paintings to bid for so if you fancy some art for an excellent cause have a look here:
http://10x10london-auction.com/lite-ui/#lots?category=All%20Lots
They are all of, or related to, Brixton. I spent a couple of sunny days there sketching what I saw and speaking to the people who were interested in what I was doing. People say the place has lost it’s edge, I had a great time.
Getting to the end of the Victoria line.
I met Lilly, a painter, with a poem pinned to his or her back.
And Bridgit and Noah, a baker and a barman.
I didn’t speak to this guy smoking and drinking his breakfast, as I think I made him feel a bit awkward.
Juhdub, Penny, Tarek. Tarek had the friendliest and tastiest food van.
Brixton, or at least the bit I was looking at, is defined by it’s railway arches. Between two of these Big Apple Brixton was building a bar you’ll need tickets for. I’d like to go.
There’s still some work going on in the arches, but not a lot.
Walled off from the vibrant street there’s an estate, so I sat there for a while too. Everyone was friendly. I could only think of one living person from Brixton, although subsequently people have pointed out a few more.
A couple of lovely days in Brixton, sketching below the railway viaducts and between the inhabited arches. The plan shows where I did the drawings.
http://10x10london-auction.com/lite-ui/#lots?category=All%20Lots
Off to Washington and New York to learn a little more about how Americans live.
People deserve better places to live and there’s lot’s to learn from America. At it’s best there are bigger flats and a higher standard of lower cost accommodation.
It’s never enough to look at the housing: what else can you do if you live here?
In New York people are leaving Manhattan for ‘neighbourhood living’ in Brooklyn. They are choosing streets, corner shops and cafes rather than specced up apartment blocks. We learned a lot.
Back home at the Remembrance Parade in Davidson’s Mains.
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