Commercial Street

Commerce is the name of the game on Commercial Street. But it’s not the only game in town. I certainly had no idea until quite recently. I’m sure none of the people in this shot has any idea either. The white building in the centre right of the frame, beautifully lit by the sun, is the Leeds Library, above the ground floor at least, and below it too. I keep watching people being escorted to the basement level, never to reappear - as far as I’ve ever noticed, that is. There’s a macabre fascination around descending into the bowels of a great building, especially in this case, where the subterranean level is the resting place for books that have fallen out of favour - in hibernation, so to speak. I’m after an excuse to go exploring on my own, fully expecting to get lost in these vast literary catacombs. Apparently, they extend out far below the street.

I’m very fidgety when I’m trying to get stuff done at home, whether that be reading or writing, but here I find myself in the very opposite state. I gather some books off the shelves, pile them around at me at a table, and don’t move for hours. There’s no reason to move. It’s a kind of bliss. I’m finding some focus.

I’ve been feeling a little scruffy in repose in front of so many beautiful books so I’ve been minded to smarten myself up a little. I went and bought myself a new shirt all by myself! This is quite possibly the first time I have ever done such a thing. I always rely on Christmas and Birthday presents or having my hand held by the current other-half, usually while dragging my feet and muttering under my breath. I was very brave. It was nothing like as hard as I was expecting it to be. It must have had the desired effect since Forrest actually noticed when I met up with him in the evening. And I do feel much more comfortably in tune with the decorum of the place now. That’s important.