Like this:

In a small room in North Wales, heavy silence. The only interruptions a solitary bluebottle fly, circling from door to window and back again, a fizz of buzzing everytime it comes up against the glass panes and the occasional play for attention from a Border Collie called Quin. I am home again, in a different place, and will begin my attempts to fill in the past with coherant descriptions and photographs that were collected across Europe over the past 6 weeks, the past 600 kilometres or more. I find myself, between moments, sat in the midst of north Wales, reading a book devoted to Hackney whilst trying to recall the fine details of what happened whilst I was walking to Switzerland. Somewhere I am trying to weave together this trio of locations that have all, somehow, come to define large parts of me.

It has taken me weeks now, to get used to being back, London is still proving exhausting, the constant barage of people. I return to the countryside often.

Self-portrait in studio, London, August 2009

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