I have made a magical discovery one late night-early morning while sitting on a bus, I believe, from Luton airport. Within the dark space of a reality outside the window, I spotted a mysterious creature seemingly blue, captured in a move like a totem of a timeless run, not meant to be completed by no one. It was a blue presence of The Boy with The Dolphin, glittering at dawn in the deepness of the-same-ness. This experience, rapid and elusive, has transformed my feel about the city. Not only this city, but any city, anywhere in the world where unexplainable, unreasonable can be discovered and embraced, and become your company in the silence or your partner in crime. I desperately tried to remember any remarkable sign having allowed me to find this spot afterwards. But it took me some time to find him, my Boy with a Dolphin, and it was meant to be this way.
David Wynne is being called 'the sculptor of the movement' and it is indeed the most accurate name. Streets of London remain the best possible tribute to his work, by enchanting the passengers with his monuments of the captured stories. That's why everything I wanted for my Name Day was a trip discovering these masterpieces around the city. And there are such people in our lives who are always here to make our dreams come true.
To disappoint my evanescent memory at dawn, Boy with a Dolphin was not really blue. To reach him, one needs to cross a magical and nostalgic Albert Bridge, which is worth visiting too. Only passing this place, one of those where always seems to be early Autumn, one is allowed to visit Boy with a Dolphin himself. It is hard to find the words to describe this feeling while looking into his eyes. The monument is perfect in his majesty. It is complete.
The statue has been dedicated to the artist's son, who also modeled for it at the age of ten. Nowadays the sculpture seems to be forgotten, deserted in the middle of Chelsea and distracted by the huge Mercedes Benz sign. Almost like for the model, who died tragically at young age, the famous boy's final is tragic and heartbreaking.