Leicester Square

Here is the boy sometime around age two. I was experimenting with photography and use of light. As always, the kids are my guinea pigs which was never a problem until a couple of years ago when they wised up: "give me a pound, dad."

Eitan has his Big Overnight at the school, so I am trying to think of something equally fun to do with Madeleine since Sonnet and I have her all to ourselves. This, like, the first time ever. I am thinking a late evening excursion into the West End for a Chinese and movie at Leicester Square, or London's theatreland and home to the biggest cinema in the UK at 1,600 seats (and there, gentle reader, is your factoid for the day). This a good place to see James Bond. What I like about the otherwise dirty and bustling spot surrounded by Picadilly, Chinatown and the National Portrait Gallery/ Trafalgar Square are the statues: in the middle is a 19th century bust of William Shakespeare surrounded by dolphins. What the heck is that about? The four corner gates have Sir Isaac Newton; Sir Joshua Reynolds, the first President of the Royal Academy; John Hunter, a pioneer of surgery; and William Hogarth, the painter. The most recent addition is a Charlie Chaplin. On the pavement are inscribed the distances in miles to countries of the former British Empire. Every corner of offers some fascination and me lucky enough to have the time to enjoy it - mostly. It is just a matter of keeping your eyes open - like the time I stumbled on a gas lit street lamp at Lincoln's Inn- turns out, this the last holdover when the Victorian streets lit by flame fueled by methane from the sewage.