NIGHT 6
Night 6. Wednesday 23 November 2022.
Big day. Up the cold rungs of the ladder, collecting the bedding shoved out of the windows and getting all shipshape. It felt calm on the ground but up here it’s unnervingly windy. One of the lamp stands snapped in half and was hastily gaffer taped together for the photo shoot that happened today.
A spider joins me. Precarious in the eddying air currents. The wild movements of the plastic sheeting make it feel worse than it is. I hope. I check the forecast. Wind gusting 23-25mph. Humidity in the 70%’s. Do I have a clue what that means for us up here? Not really. Maybe we won’t wake up with wet hats and pillows? Maybe it’s not too bad? I ‘m learning. The photographer who came today with his team to take images for the Observer noted the absurd contradiction of it being such an intimate, homely but at once totally exposed space up here. I enter a zone of exhaustion and compliance as they take the photos - taking instruction, drifting off, fascinated by the lighting, feeling chilled in damp jeans under blankets as Dan and I huddle together and they strive for the shot that says ‘ROOF.’ They’re a nice bunch and Dan makes them scrambled eggs on toast and hot chocolate. Despite weather predictions it begins to rain and gets steadily heavier. We worry about the exposed electrics and Charlie the photographer calls it. As I remain on the roof to secure the bed with plastic a rainbow appears and then a double rainbow - I shout down ‘RAINBOW!!’ but it’s too late. The perfect shot of hope -the luminous arc landing right in a chimney pot, fades away.
Round two photography and Max and his boys wave up and say it’s something out of a children’s film and wonder what we’re up to. The photographer is working with the dying light so we’re forced to keep in place, trying not to look awkward. Look to the left. To the camera. Pensive. Thoughtful. Right now it’s all I can do to focus on writing, tensed to leap from the bed if I sense it in motion.
We congregated on the street earlier. A very last minute whatsapp message managing to get enough of our neighbours to emerge willing to have their photograph taken. Dan and Mark had ordered a massive ‘POWER STATION’ flag which I had been a bit dubious about but it arrived in time for the photo shoot and was put to good use. I was given the actually quite strenuous task of waving it around - channelling the Delacroix painting of Liberty but with more clothes on. Katie had been working hard in the house all morning sorting and packing orders of greenbacks, books and DVDs but now joined me in position on top of a hopefully sturdy table in the middle of the street along with Dee – all of us in knitted beanie bobble hats in assorted colours. Dee’s mischievous face lit up when she got to hold up a spluttering smoke grenade from our ‘just in case’ stash and a group of about 20 of us manage to feel pretty epic in the moment. We wave at other neighbours passing who did not appreciate the cloud of smoke we’d created even if it was for the ‘greater good.’ The photographer was worried up on the roof that, unlike with film where you can compose a vision from multiple shots and angles, in photography you get one chance - that picture has to contain the story – has to say ‘this is a bed on top of a rooftop’, or, on the ground, ‘this is a street’s community’. This sits uncomfortably as the community is more than the people who could manage to turn up last minute to a 1.30pm shoot on a Wednesday. It is one chance representation but not representative. But anyway, it felt good to be with the rag tag group (in a good way) of friends and neighbours and a few dogs and Dee particularly has developed a taste for revolution and further collective street actions – something we’d be happy to arrange on a bigger scale!
It's bin day tomorrow. I hear people up and down the street lugging their bins out of rickety gates as the last task of hectic days. The delivery drivers are still busy, flashing lights on as they run to opening doors with no bins to hide the parcels behind. I must admit I’m so tired I ‘m not so much pondering on the wonder of the urban landscape or our place in the universe than just staring either at the screen or the lights on the horizon. I ‘m not doing well with the wildlife photography. A fox regularly passes on the street below and another on the railway track. I will make it my mission to film them. I’m warm. Really warm. Almost too warm settling down to attempt to sleep. That soon changes as the 10% chance of rain becomes reality and I struggle with the plastic sheeting. In the end I use our monopod (one legged camera support) as a tent pole of sorted, wedging it between my elbow and the string holding the sheeting up. This doesn’t make for a relaxing night. I’m on the alert. Hyper aware of every sound and motion. As midnight creeps up I check my phone under the covers and we’re slowly creaking towards £25,000. When I close my eyes we’re at £24,944.
Dawn. It is beautiful up here. With that little bit of rest I can see it again. The sky turns as rosy as our cheeks probably are after all this outdoor living. I notice things again. The Thursday morning alarm is the rubbish trucks rolling down the road consuming our waste. Dan comments ‘ah, the sweet aroma of bin juice.’ It really is a strong scent wafting up to the rooftops. He’s already checked his phone and lets me know we’ve passed £25,000. That feels like a good step – 6 nights in. But it’s slowing slightly and we need to do everything we can to speed it up. I managed a few emails last night letting key contacts know what we’re up to and asking them to share with their networks. Will do more today and get other press the photo files they need. We’re aware we need to film more on our actual kit, need to photograph well, need to just keep going with all the work surrounding this campaign. I hear starlings chattering in the trees. Natalie shouts up ‘Good morning’ and ‘doing well’. Max gives me a hug as our dog walking paths cross. He’s slept under the winter stars and understands the damp issue. Nikoleta cycles by and we have a high volume chat to be heard above the trains passing and helicopters overhead. These moments of encouragement are really appreciated. Cathy brings the children she cares for to look up. I wave. They ask why is she up there. Why indeed?! It’s found it’s way onto the notorious local facebook groups renowned for pointless argument and nasty comments. I don’t really want to look but there are supporters and allies on there sharing the links. The birds are really going for it. My Dad can recognise every call. I can just make out a robin.
Every warming ray from the rising sun is blissful. My ridiculous work ethic is telling me people will think I ‘m lazy lying in bed in the morning. I am going to give myself a break and just enjoy being here. Now. The little gang of sparrows that frequent our back doorstep are hanging out in our plum tree laden with rogue jasmine. Natalie comes by on the return leg from school to discuss the music video we’re working on for the school song and the crowdfunder trailer she’s cutting. It’s great to have a team on the street/s. Phil, 2 streets down has sent over the postcard layouts we need so I can send these to print now. A magpie is pottering along the train tracks. It’s a birdspotting kind of day. They’re all out and about. Crows, wood pigeons, gulls. A couple of great tits perch on the top of the old elder tree that almost perished in this summer’s drought. The wilko bought red climbing rose is in flower again. Taking this moment to look again I see much of the garden is in weird bloom. I spot a solitary mosquito. I ‘m very glad we’re doing this in the cold when I remember the clouds of midges that rise in columns above the houses and playing fields in the summer months. The swifts come for them, darting across football pitches gorging themselves on these airborn snacks. And too busy writing I ‘ve just missed the perfect shot! - three canada geese flying low in unison right above my head, one discharging a guano bomb that just misses me. Maybe, just maybe today could be a patient day – a day where my litany of missed shots is replaced by those captured. I’m off to get some nuts to place on the chimneys.
