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Friday 24 January 2020

a time a place a thought
Flick Cards. Not sure of the rules. Needed a wall, only at school, in the playground. The ground of play. Tea cards and cigarette cards, a picture on the front, writing on the back.
I think I may have lost the threads from September. A memory loss. But, I can go back, in time, and re-read the words again, the magic of email.
Ah, yes, and movement, everything in our worlds, those views, that appearance, entities within reach, our photographs, the words we write, to hold lightly, let them fall, gravity, magnetism, currents of air, settling in the common ground, mulched. A walk in our landscape of consciousness, the mulched ground, a forest, a wood, scents, sense, atmospheres, articulations, all around, resonating. Every movement an effect, a cause, so much of life without intent.
The Commons.
Putney. Wimbledon. Barnes. Sheen. And the parks. Our grounds of play. Times and places to dream the days away. And things we held onto from those times. These things have become part of the compost, faded from view, but resonating in one way or another. I kept my A5 dark green 'aeroplane' book for many years, it disappeared sometime in the 1990s. I think I may still have some negatives though. I'll be trying some new iPhone software for looking at and copying negatives (and slides) over the next few months. I'll probably make some small, light, loose leaf books, with some prints stuck in with a prit stick. Maybe make some T-cards. That'll be fun. Then what to with them? Well, stick them in a (bio-degradable) bottle and let them float down stream and out to sea. And then to wonder where the message may be, and if will ever reach a destination. Probably just become part of the decay. Fading into another day.

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