without properly saying goodbye; just turned and headed for home. And it has taken this long, these strange few weeks, to begin to put together the pieces; to start to re-surface, unpack the boxes and baskets, wonder what was wonderful. Back in Liverpool, there are sunsets, there are places to shelter. But the sky is smaller. And we miss new-found friends and a certain freedom. There is no place like home, and yet we have left something of ourselves there. And it seems like a dream.
Friday night and we prepare for our final day. In the morning we shall take a vintage coach tour (Leyland Tiger. 1935), beating the bounds of North Hykeham. Following its borders and striking for the heart…
Saturday night – the last performance of The Penny Readings in the Terry O’Toole Theatre.
in North Hykeham. Two pianos, played lovely. Scent of chlorine. Frothy coffee from the machine, a handful of chocolate, fading chalk under puddles. Plotting routes. We travelled the edges, and went out, and came in again. Birds overhead. A boat adrift in a field. Sunshine and mist. Time and space to play with light.
to Sunshine Gray, an artist in Lincoln, who makes things from light and sound; and who has shed the beams of her friendship, knowledge and curiosity upon our week in Lincoln. And also created a very fine sound installation, WC, currently to be heard in the Drill Hall conveniences.
Sought (urgently): several dandelion clocks in the city of Lincoln, before tomorrow tea-time. In return: boundless gratitude, and sweets. Please contact Miss E. Willow, c/o Lincoln Drill Hall. Thankyou.