“Catering Meats Smithfield”

Here is a section of West Smithfield, at the North West corner.

Work is in progress to redevelop these buildings. You can see the scaffolding on the right. This is the General Market.

Map showing where I was and what I was drawing. My location and sightline is marked with the red arrow and red oval. The current area under scaffolding is marked in blue. Underlying map (c) Open Street Map Contributors

I was standing outside the “Citigen CHP”. This is the unlikely location of a power station.

“The large scale community energy system is made up of a central power station and district heating network. Natural gas fuelled by the CHP plant is located near Smithfield Market and supplies heat and cooling to ten of the City’s properties by an underground pipe network spanning over two miles.” says the website of Edina, a supplier of specialist equipment to such schemes.

It is also above the railway lines. Trains rumbled, and the pavement vibrated. A concrete mixing lorry arrived and skilfully backed into the space vacated by the previous concrete mixing lorry, who, equally skilfully, moved out of the space and departed, while workers in bright red and yellow clothes moved the barriers, in synchronism with the movement of the lorries.

The building in the centre of my drawing is “Catering Meats Smithfield”. The sign is still legible. On the right is a building that looks a bit more like a music hall than a commercial market. It has wood panels and a marvellous pineapple on the roof. The roundel on the gable says “1881”.

Whilst I was sitting on the kerbstone, putting on the colour, a man jogged past, right to left, wearing running kit. He stopped and came back. He said “It makes me happy to see you painting”. He said it very simply, a statement. The emphasis was on the word “happy”. It makes me happy to see you painting. Happy, as opposed to any other emotion.

I said, “Thank you”. Then he ran on, and I continued painting the colours. It made me happy that by being there I’d somehow given something to someone else. It made me happy that he’d said it, that he’d bothered, that he’d paused in his run and came back to utter his simple sentence. But expressing all that was complicated. So I just said, “Thank you”.

Here is work in progress: