I have worked for NGOs in some of the poorest countries in the world and in some of the world’s largest refugee camps in the middle east and other disaster areas. The misery and dangers of day to day live in these places: living reduced to below the minimum required to maintain dignity and self-respect was the norm. Returning from these trips usually shaken and upset I increasingly saw here in the particularly London similar misery. I cam e across people of every age and colour in doorways, under arches, in underground stations, covered in cardboard boxes and if you knew where to look in the evening, in queues in the back streets of central London waiting for open air kitchens to give them their only meal of the day. It is was though there was a conspiracy not to see these people and yet they were there, in their thousands on London’s busiest and wealthiest streets just out of sight, a whole city of homeless people searching out the best spots to beg and sleep, where hypothermia will not claim them and anxious about where their next bottle of alcohol or drug fix is coming from.
There is no art without commitment.