What follows is a long-ish chronological sequence of images from the journey. In large part, rather murky, sub-aquatic glimpses and fragments of Britain from the train as I passed into and out of cities and night. A sort of flip-book of shadows and flickering light, with a fleeting and surreal burst of apricot sunshine on arrival at the sea in West Wales.
Oh the epiphany of the sea ...
Somehow weather, music, Ballard, newspaper (Bahrain, Libya, Tory government cuts, Berlusconi's trial - the 'usual' heady cocktail in these profoundly unusual times), and something parading as 'coffee' conspired to colour my mood and these images - in particular, PJ's devastatingly beautiful, sombre songs:
& the birds are silent in the branches
& the insects are courting in the bushes
& by the shores of lovely lakes
heavy stones are falling














































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