It’s a month since the UK government announced lockdown. The Husband and I began our personal self isolation a week earlier on March 16, so, five weeks and counting, we’ve pretty much adapted to our new routine. The only thing … Continue reading Unlocking
Sundown. A raised thumb hopes for a lift, something stirs the Spanish moss curtaining the bayou, a coyote calls in the distance. It’s hot as hell and a truck full of old men with barely a set of teeth between … Continue reading Found in Translation
On our last day I woke up in bilious spirit, poor D had to raise all his shields, but full tranquility returned the second I walked into the Shape of Light, an exhibition of 100 years of abstract photography at … Continue reading London Notes #16
The day after Deptford it rained as if the sky could no longer contain its grief at humanity’s stupidity. But that was okay, because my sister and brother-in-law came for dinner, and to spend the night. She brought pudding, I … Continue reading London Notes #15
The Barbican is having a massive Dorothea Lange retrospective, naturally, we had to go. We took the train from Blackheath to London Bridge, which takes about twenty minutes, so we could pop into Borough Market for bread on the way. … Continue reading London Notes #13
Eryl Gasper-Dick, still curious 