Walking around Bloomsbury a month or so ago, I found a wonderful statue of Noor Inayat Khan, a Special Operatives Executive agent during WWII, and was really intrigued about her being one of the few women who have been commemorated in London. So when it came time to do my Urban Arts project, I decided to draw public statues of women around the city and create a book of them.

The “table of contents” contains a map locating each monument– here is an online version of the map. I organized the drawings chronologically by when the subject lived:

Boadicea (Boudicca): Regions Caesar never knew they posterity shall sway. Queen of the Iceni who died A.D. 61 after leading her people against the Roman invader.

Her Majesty Queen Alexandra, President of the London Hospital 1904, who always took a personal and sympathetic interest in its works and who in 1900 introduced to England the Finsen light cure for lupus and presented the first lamp to this hospital.

The labels, which are based on the blue-and-white commemorative plaques you can’t go anywhere without spotting, are whatever words the people installing the statue chose to put on it.

Cora: The beloved daughter of J.B. and H.R. Philipp who passed away Dec. 26th 1907, aged 7 years and 8 months.

Virginia Woolf 1882-1941

The Women of World War II: This memorial was raised to commemorate the vital work done by over seven million women during World War II.

Noor Inayat Khan 1914-1944 G.C. M.B.E. Croix de Guerre: Noor Inayat Khan was an SOE agent infiltrated into occupied France. She was executed at Dachau concentration camp. Her last word was “Liberte.” The Special Operatives Executive (SOE) was a secret organization set up by Winston Churchill to help resistance movements during WWII. Noor lived nearby and spent some quiet time in this garden.

One of the best things about the project was experiencing the statues’ surroundings as I drew them. Some I had to draw from pictures– Boudicca, for example, is swarmed by traffic, tourists, and a souvenir stand; and Queen Alexandra was in an accessible spot, but I got too cold to finish her there! It was fascinating, though, to watch what went on around the statues, and whether people noticed them. Sometimes I suspected people only stopped and looked because they saw me drawing, but other times they definitely were already interested (the Women of World War II monument is especially popular). Some of the spots were still what they were when the person walked there: the hospital is still functioning around Queen Alexandra, and people are “spending some quiet time in the garden” around Noor Inayat Khan. And the statues watch it all happen.

Being a naturally slow reader, I’ve taken Bleak House with me virtually everywhere in the past two weeks. This hasn’t prevented me from seeing the city, though; instead I’ve been investigating London’s best corners to read in, which personally I think is one of the most important things to know about any place. In any case, Bleak House is becoming a bit of a Flat Stanley.

Of course much of my reading has occurred in the various rooms of the Pickwick (the lounge winds up being the center of many an unplanned Bleak House party)

Outside Bedford Place, though, the book has been my companion in cafes, pubs, museums, and libraries. All have been exciting, but some are definitely more suitable for reading than others. I can say without hesitation that the National Gallery provides way better seats than the British Museum, and a quieter environment.

The British Library was a fairly obvious place to test out. I don’t know why exactly, but I really, really like reading there. It’s very difficult to find anywhere to sit, since it’s packed with students, pompous-looking academics, and all sorts of other people. Luckily, almost any seat you find will have a view of the four-story glass tower containing a large portion of George III’s library.

One of the best things about reading in museums (or museum-esque libraries) is that when you need a break there are spectacular paintings, statues, and exhibits to see. The British Library’s “Gothic Imagination” exhibit was about to close, so I made sure to see it in the middle of the day’s reading– and among the spectacular displays was a complete collection of the original serial editions of Bleak House! That’s the thing about having class in London, I’m constantly stumbling across stuff we’ve read or talked about. So of course as I walked home from the library I spotted this sign:

For the amount of tea, biscuits, and meals I’ve consumed while reading, my book has surprisingly few food stains on it. But it’s visited a number of pubs and cafes and has witnessed much of my exploration of British food, including my first fish & chips; a chocolate beer that tasted too much like beer and not enough like chocolate; and hot cocoa and mochas, which definitely tasted enough like chocolate, thank goodness.

This week my plan is to read in Lincoln’s Inn Field, and see if I can spot any Tulkinghorn or Guppy types. Or maybe a creepy graveyard like where Nemo was buried…