Alex Stratis Photography

Alex Stratis Photography I am a photographer from the USA but have recently lived in Japan, Greece, and the EU. Now in London. I am currently using a Google Pixel 7 Pro.

The stone is stubborn, set in its ways,Held by the gravity of Victorian days.But the sun, that ancient, crushing heat, D...
21/04/2026

The stone is stubborn, set in its ways,

Held by the gravity of Victorian days.

But the sun, that ancient, crushing heat,

Drags the green blood up from the street.

​Now the wisteria weaves its violet thread,

Binding the living to the beautifully dead.

It cinches the balconies, a soft, floral rope,

Tightening the gap between memory and hope.

​Is it solid? The brick says yes.

Is it meaning? The heart can only guess.

For in the duality of the Chelsea spring,

The tie is the tension, and the bloom is the thing.

The stone of Chelsea does not hold the world in place; it only provides a theater for the heist.​Every spring, the wiste...
21/04/2026

The stone of Chelsea does not hold the world in place; it only provides a theater for the heist.

​Every spring, the wisteria descends like a slow, violet waterfall—a heavy, fragrant curtain that suggests permanence, yet it is composed entirely of transit. To stand beneath the clusters is to realize that the breeze is not moving past the flowers, but through them, braiding the scent of damp earth with the high, white drift of the clouds.

The mystery of the mews isn't found in what is missing, but in the repurposed spirit of the space. It is the architectur...
21/04/2026

The mystery of the mews isn't found in what is missing, but in the repurposed spirit of the space. It is the architectural equivalent of a stagehand becoming the lead actor; the service entrance has become the destination, and the shadows of the stable have been traded for the amber light of the hearth.

In the shadow of St Luke’s stone-carved height,The Chelsea spring awakes in pools of light.Where once the silent sleeper...
14/04/2026

In the shadow of St Luke’s stone-carved height,
The Chelsea spring awakes in pools of light.
Where once the silent sleepers lay in rest,
The tulip fires burn bright at April’s chest.

The cherry boughs, in gowns of bridal white,
Drip softest petals through the shifting light,
While ancient walls, of weathered flint and bone,
Watch green life climb the grey of hallowed stone.

A quiet breath amidst the city’s roar,
Where gold-rimmed buds unlock a secret door;
Here, time stands still beneath the Gothic spire,
In the gentle glow of spring’s returning fire.

Shoreditch Saturday with the The pavement hums a jagged line,Where shadows stretch and colors bleed.Between the brick a...
12/04/2026

Shoreditch Saturday with the
The pavement hums a jagged line,
Where shadows stretch and colors bleed.
Between the brick and morning shine,
The city wears a different creed.
The sky is wide—a hollow blue,
Held up by clouds of heavy lace.
The air is sharp, the light is new,
Across a scattered, shifting space.
From gilded shells to aerosol,
A quiet hum, a restless hand.
The sudden crowd, the rise and fall,
Of gold and grit across the land.

At this hour, the light acts as the final gatekeeper. It reveals the texture of the exclusion: the dust motes dancing in...
06/04/2026

At this hour, the light acts as the final gatekeeper. It reveals the texture of the exclusion: the dust motes dancing in a lobby you aren't allowed to enter, and the sharp, clean edge where the shadow of a bank cuts the sidewalk in two.
The light doesn't welcome; it inspects. It crawls over the facades, looking for a crack in the glass, finding only the seamless, gated perfection of the city’s private heights.

Modern living in the City is an exercise in transparency. On a Bank Holiday morning, the residential towers of Bishopsga...
06/04/2026

Modern living in the City is an exercise in transparency. On a Bank Holiday morning, the residential towers of Bishopsgate shed their steel-and-glass armor. The brickwork softens under the mid-spring sun, feeling less like a fortress and more like a hearth, while the windows turn into quiet observatories—capturing a London that finally has nothing to do and all day to do it.

The Bloom Amidst the Glass Where the heavy tread of history meets the rush of the modern tide, New Leaves unfurls within...
06/04/2026

The Bloom Amidst the Glass

Where the heavy tread of history meets the rush of the modern tide, New Leaves unfurls within Bishopsgate. It is a quiet rebellion of the garden against the grid, a place where the "Old Town" echoes are softened by the rustle of seasonal greens and the bright clarity of a kitchen that honors the earth.

21/03/2026

On the vernal balance, where light and dark hold court,
Three swans became the architects of grace.
Upon the gilded water of the Serpentine,
They wove a geometry of white wings,
A silent, synchronized psalm to the shifting sun.
​No longer birds, but living currents of the day,
Tracing the equinox in ripples and light,
Where the winter’s stillness broke beneath their feet,
And the sun, held captive in their arc,
Woke the park to the rhythm of the turning year.

St George Coffee Shop & Wine Bar - Chelsea
20/03/2026

St George Coffee Shop & Wine Bar - Chelsea

Address

London
N1 9

Website

,

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Alex Stratis Photography posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Shortcuts

Share

Category