You too can have one of these

Friends, furniture, booze. What more could you want.

Forecast

Waking excited, I immediately check the forecast. I'm not sure why. Here, now, shown as overcast; later, heavy rain. But it won't, I know. It's never rained on me on my birthday.

Sky

Sure enough, I open the blinds and see hardly a cloud. But there'll be time for looking at the sky later. For now, lots to do.

Circle

I rode to southbank on the bus with one of my flatmates, bot of us heavily laden. The spot was tried and tested, but full of cyclists. I decided to inflate the chair and figure it out from there. Just inside the BFI bar I asked a security guard if I could inflate it there (No), and whether there were any plugs elsewhere in the building (By the restaurant at the far end). As soon as I got there, I started up. The pump wasn't as loud as expected, but still noisy. Halfway through, a man in plain clothes with an official-looking id on his belt approached with a questioning look. I explained that security by the far end had directed me here, and that I wouldn't be a moment. He walked away looking puzzled, and I stumbled out shortly after with a chair in my arms. Hooray for the 'pass the buck' instinct. By the time I got back to the circle the cyclists were gone, so the two of us installed ourselves inside. Straight away I felt comfortable, as it had actually become my living room.

Decorating

To make it a little homier, I set about sewing some curtains.

Still sewing

Luckily no one came early. The sewing didn't take very long, but I was glad not to be too distracted while it was in progress. Amazingly, I didn't prick my finger even once. It probably helped that the fabric, bought that morning down the market, was fairly lightweight. And that it matched my waistcoat.

Framing

I'd cut and notched the pieces of frame the day before, to be carried down in a bundle. It all came together thanks to fishing line and gaffer tape (wouldn't want anyone scratching themselves on the sharp corners).

Corner detail

Having help here was good; my friend was much more skilled making this detail work, even though I'd practiced a few times.

Domestic bliss?

No sooner was the window fully assembled than we had our first guests/models. The fellow with the broken arm who took the chair when i offered it was very skeptical at first. His son was quite pleased to run around and play with anything/anyone. His wife stood just outside the stone circle the whole time. The man, it turns out, used to be a busker, so understood quite quickly the dynamic between the passer-by and someone staking a claim to public space and doing something a little unexpected with it. He appreciated that I was trying to avoid being insular about the whole thing, liked how the window device could act as both a way into the situation and barrier to allow people to separate themselves off if they so chose. We chatted for a good ten minutes, but then the family beckoned, they all moved along.

2 in the chair

It was important to me that at least two people could sit in the chair I took, for two reasons. 1) I wasn't sure if anyone else would bring any seating. (In the end, only blankets and a cushion came in that department.) 2) I've adopted a friend's rule about furniture: it must be possible to make out on it. (ah, fun memories of Ikea...) Note: My flatmate accused me of frontloading the day when I first poured the G into the Teapot. But it turns out teapots hold quite a lot. And they add to the civilised atmosphere.

Another soul

More people started arriving, peering into our comfy environs.

The outside world

They peered out as well, at the lovely surrounds. You can see here the wind came easily into the room and kept blowing the 'tablecloth' up over the teapot. Frightfully inconvenient, but some things just can't be avoided.

Lovely radio

Someone else brought this brilliant radio.

Don't touch that dial

First we tuned it to Munich and got, surprise surprise, some bangin minimalist techno. But that was hardly Saturday afternoon living room listening, so we switched to Oslo, which somehow gave us the cricket.

More folk

More people turned up. Sadly, this meant that no more strangers came 'inside', but plenty smiled as they passed (no doubt they wished they too could have a living room like this). And it was after all nice to have more help working on the gin.

Excellent neighbours

We were witness to some fine behaviour, such as this...

Pirates!

...and this, ... (A few pirates stopped and joined our number, but they were known to us already. I'm confident that any hostile attack could have been easily repulsed.)

Bottle opener

...and this. I think he was thirsty. (We seem to have used at least three methods of opening wine that day. Later, I shot a video on how to open a bottle with a tree, but I can't post it. I was slurring far too much by that point, and it's almost incomprehensible.)

Invisible

We did have at least one wall which made us almost completely undetectable from the west.

Pointing

More, and more company.

She came...

I spotted a friend I haven't seen in a very long time, resulting in this and the next two photos.

...in through...

...the living room window.

They're blurry because the day had gotten grey, and I refused to use a flash. Also, did I mention the g&t's? I felt a drop of water at one point, but it takes several to count as rain, so I'm still gonna claim it's never rained on me on my birthday.

River view

With the grey and the growing wind, it was starting to get a bit chilly in the stone circle, in spite of the booze-jackets we were all wearing. So we decamped to that other portion of my living room, the 5th floor balcony of Royal Festival Hall. I love that my living room has a river view.

Looking west

And a view of Big Ben!

New friends

These two fellows had just come out of a concert inside (can't for the life of me remember what it was) and decided to join us.

The lot

I felt we ought to get a group photo at some point. This was the action shot version.

River again

Nice to be able to look out the window and watch a sunset, eh.

Fit for 3

Did I say the chair ought to fit two? I meant three.

Oh my

Things started to get a bit silly. Also, we could hear the beats drifting up from under Royal Festival Pier. You see, there was a beach party just starting up. (I'd only heard about it just after midnight the night before and thought to myself 'best. birthday present. ever.')

Moving time

When the whole of Southbank is your living room, you suddenly have much more options when rearranging the furniture.

Below

But some arrangements are just classic.

Low...

On the beach, the window was a great hit.

Other sitters

As was the chair. Unfortunately it got rather crowded, and shortly after this picture was taken we had to take the frame apart so that no one would break it (or themselves).

Seats four!

But the chair stayed up. The fellow in the houndstooth hoodie had a broken ankle and was hobbling past on crutches when I offered it to him. He was delighted, so when at 1:30 I was too inebriated to either see or stand properly I told him he could keep it and careened towards the bus stop. I hope he didn't just ditch it on the beach. My only regret: we never got to use the vibrating massage function.