Once in a while I would bring him a smoothie and spend my lunch break sitting there outside the shop or standing under an umbrella with him out there. He told me his life story, the way he suddenly lost everything, found himself on the streets, living in hostels when he could afford to. Not by any fault of his own. Then one day, he invited me for a coffee. We sat in Cafe Nero looking out the window on the first floor, watching the cars and the busses and the people pass through Notting Hill Gate.

I won’t share his story here, but we became friends. And he turned his life around. He no longer sells the Big Issue. He’s in Afghanistan now proud in his uniform.

But London is full of people who have fallen through the cracks, unfortunate souls who wrap themselves in old blankets and suck up the shame of it all. It’s easy to make quick judgments sometimes, to walk by blindly, to feel indifferent. I met another guy once, also in Notting Hill, who used to sit outside reading novels. I used to give him my old ones when I finished, have a chat now and then. He disappeared suddenly, I hope for good reason.

When I met Stik, the street artist who I’m sure most of you know about by now, he told me his story of being homeless and how his art has helped to pull him out of it. He’s turned his life around now as well, thanks to his creativity.

This post isn’t about the politics of homelessness. Only stories and images of Londoners who happen to know what it’s like to touch the bottom.

These photographs were taken by John Kortland. (Interview with John here).

And a final image from Shando.

A note from Shando about the above photo:

“This picture is #19 in my 100 strangers project. Was with some friends shooting around South Bank and stopped to chat to this dude. We chatted about how busy this spot was during the daytime and despite his apparent predicament he even had the cheer to crack a joke about xmas day not being so busy! When I first saw him and thought to approach him for a shot I recalled seeing a documentary on TV where a homeless dude mentioned that the lack of acknowledgement from people passing by as he begged was most disheartening and made him feel sub-human. Share a few words with these people “

If you have a story of someone homeless who has touched your life in some way, leave a story in the comments. I’d love to hear about it.

PS – A little slice of shameless self-promotion – I was interviewed on Girl Habits yesterday!

Believe it or not, this little entrepreneur has possibly been at it for years now. We saw a girl back in 2010 doing the same thing- could be her unless it’s just a big coincidence!

Great point of view on the last one, don’t you think?

Thanks Shando!

Faron Kee is a talented 30-something photo-artist, born and bred in London. Faron has a deep appreciation for those green patches interspersed throughout the city, a spiritual connection to nature, as he refers to it, that has been with him his whole life and sparked his initial interest in photography. He’s influenced by the likes of Balthasar Burkhard, Morley Baer, Herb Ritts, and Edward Weston.

Inviting us into his black and white dreamworld, Faron shared a few pieces of photo art for London Art Spot. He talks about what he hopes for his art to communicate, how his dyslexia influences his work and the change his photography has undergone over the years.

LLO: How does living in London influence your creativity?
FK: London is an incredible place to live. The diversity, history and mix of influences makes a stimulating environment in which I am constantly inspired.

LLO: Have you stumbled on any fascinating little corners of London while out with your camera that you didn’t know about before?
FK: I am constantly surprised by what I can find when out-and-about with my camera. Take Highgate for example. I am walking through a quaint, leafy village, but then just a few moments away, one is struck by the contrast of urban Archway. Both places inspire me in different ways.

LLO: One of the main ideas behind Little London Observationist is finding the beauty in the little things, which your photos seem to gear toward as well. What else do you wish to communicate through your photography?
FK: For me, my work has always been about communicating feelings and thoughts. I’m dyslexic so my photography is a voice.There is something ‘magical’ existing parallel to what we see. I am receptive to that energy and I simply cannot produce my work without it. I have been told that my work is haunting and minimalistic. A tortured beauty.

LLO: Tell us about your series “London Parks Study”.
FK: London parks have always been a sanctuary to me. Whenever I need to ‘re-charge my batteries’, or to ‘step away’ from the madness, I visit them.

LLO: Do you always shoot black and white?
FK: Exclusively! Colour is often distracting to me. I want to get to the essence of my subject and I feel black and white best suits the way I want to work. The world of black and white is filled with such wonder.

LLO: What has lead you to create so-called “moody” photography? What attracts you to it? 
FK: My photography has never felt moody to me, I can appreciate how others may interpret it. This is just how I see the world and I love it.

LLO: How old were you what you first became interested in photography and in which ways has your style changed and developed over the years?
FK: I believe I have always had a photographer’s eye, making up little films in my head, but it wasn’t until my early 30s did I become so interested in photography. Over the years, my work has undergone a journey of simplification. This way, I have a much clearer vision of what I want to say.

LLO: What elements are most important to you when composing a shot?
FK: Believe it or not, I prefer to shoot when it isn’t so bright outside. I prefer low contrast because this makes my post-production more fruitful. I am able to create a much larger dynamic-range working this way. Also, on a personal level, I’m not one for bright light!

LLO: For those photography enthusiasts out there, tell us about your equipment.
FK: I use a Nikon D3X and if I want to shoot film I use a Yashica T4. It has a cool Zeiss lens. My other lenses are a 16mm, 35mm and a 100mm. For post I use a combination of Lightroom and Photoshop.

LLO: Which other London-based artists do you admire?
FK: There are only two from London that I can think of immediately: The notorious Tracey Emin and Ben Stockley who shoots remarkable moods. Most of my influences are master photographers who are no longer with us.

Thanks Faron!

See more of Faron’s work on Flickr.

For more London Art Spot interviews, click here.

It was a slow stroll through the cluttered shops and stalls full of tacky London souvenirs, the union jack shot glasses, the racks of postcards, red telephone box keychains, tee shirts announcing “My sister went to London and…”

And then past the second hand porcelain teapots and antiques market, the boxing gloves and war paraphernalia, rows of various analogue cameras, stamp collections and silver tea spoons.

The music plays. The CD stalls, the buskers, the Johnny Cash man with his big old double bass, a woman singing sweetly with a guitar sitting on a street corner, nestling her chin into layers of colourful scarves to keep out  the January chill.

It was a windy day. One vendor selling jewellery told me she’s been selling in the market for over 15 years and this is the windiest day she has ever seen. Stalls were blowing over. A woman’s rack of tights spilled onto the street, the man above fixing mugs blown in a gust, clothing racks tipping slowly onto the road.

People walking alone. People walking in groups. People walking their dogs.

We walk past the fruit and veg vendors shouting “one pound a bowl, just one pound a bowl!”, filling paper bags with apples and avocados, passing change over the table of grapes and tomatoes and plastic containers of blueberries for £1.50.

The smell of paella cooking slowly in giant woks, steam rising into the cold air, people standing against walls on side streets digging plastic forks into tins of noodles, hands wrapping around hot plastic cups of tea.

People chatting and laughing and eating and shopping and yelling and cooking and walking.

A woman made crepes with ham and cheese or sweet with bananas and Nutella.

Food stalls faded into clothing stalls, racks of generic £5 market dresses causing crowds in booths that look like closets, tables piled with boxes full of sweaters and tee shirts and belts and scarves.

The fashion is always fascinating. A woman wearing snakeskin leggings and a neon pink jacket with a big furry wolf hat. A man who could have walked straight out of the 1920. Cultures mingling, languages spilling about.

We head toward the Westway. Graffiti starts to pop up. An old protected Banksy behind plexiglass, a Don banker and colourful murals behind the barrier walls.

We dig through little cardboard boxes full of old jewellery remnants – pendants, beads, broaches and rings. There are boxes of buttons.   Unpolished stones. Watches, hats, wallets, gloves.

In the vintage and secondhand clothing market, there is leopard print, faux fur, red leather boots, a pair of jean short completely covered in band badges.

A peacock feather seller stands silently with his goods in the street.

The cold seeps into our bones. Our hands are red and white. The wind whips around. Bags blowing. People bundling and huddling.

We decide it’s time to head home.

So I will leave you now with a video from Stall Stories, the story of Portobello Road Market.

Enjoy!