Saturday 21st January


This music came to mind on waking, underscoring images of walking
in the streets between sunrise & the first rush to market. Photographing
patterns in the falling of polystyrene cups blown across pavements in
the patient march of violent erosion. I love this town, it’s poetry of
conversation documents community & history, carries rich veins of
poetry to be mined with a sympathetic ear. Beneath a brutal overhang,
on windows long boarded where the army recruitment used to be,
there’s a fragment of an image of two stories framed by razor wire &
CCTV. Picture of a street drunk, no, a fellow traveller (could’ve been me)
announcing a party round the corner (oh the irony!).