Gallery hops I keep making

Honestly this is just the list I text myself after every shift at the gallery in Peckham — the places I duck into on a lunch break, sketchbook under my arm, flat white going cold in my hand. Mix of the big South London heavyweights and the tiny white-cube spaces tucked into car parks and arcades that nobody tells you about until you stumble in — currently a bit obsessed with whatever's charred-chicken-bone-pigment going on at Backroom, honestly can't stop thinking about it.