RIGHT HERE
Bea Setton
Words
BEA SETTON
Photography
DEREK HENDERSON
I don’t enjoy silence. I can’t fall asleep without the sound of traffic. An ‘urban sounds’ playlist comforts me on those rare occasions I leave the metropolis. I know others love looking at plants and birds and the sea. I try to respond appropriately when I’m looking at these things but it’s sort of like going to a contemporary art exhibition. Alien. I don’t understand it, I don't feel moved. Everyone gets it, apart from me. But I don't care that I’m not a naturalist. I love what I love. Urban places. The solidarity between me and other passengers when the metro breaks down. The affectionate automated voice telling me to step back from the platform edge. I respect the dogs on the underground: wise, tough, ugly, supremely disinterested. Sometimes a beautiful person sits near me, and I lose myself in the sight of them. The elderly lady powdering her face in a hand-held mirror. The man with theatrical Cleopatra eyes. And you, my love. Your leather jacket, your suede boots. You can’t wear those in the countryside! In the mud! So, no. I don’t want to go to Cornwall. Let’s stay right here. Here is bliss. Here is peace.
Read our interview with Bea here.