Wednesday, July 12, 2023

Guilt, bookmaking and wave.

1. My neighbour swears me to secrecy about the pastry she is eating, and then we guiltily share some gossip but are caught by the friend I'm meeting.

2. I emerge, blinking, fingers gluey and smudged, from the little book I've been making at an art workshop (part of Tunbridge Wells Fringe). 

3. As I am waiting to cross the road, the bus I've just got off pulls away. From the back seat, the affable man I'd been chatting with about the view, his day by the sea, his recovery and his long journey home, gives me a cheery wave. 

Start of the heat, finishing early and lights out.

1. It's not too long after 8am and I can already feel the heat in the air as I begin my walk on the common. My body responds to the warm...