
This is how my day started (in Lewes) and ended (in London) ... with a whole bunch of things in between!
Really, I wanted to write a poem, but can't seem to get the gears started. I keep thinking about a phrase Imogen Heap used when talking about the song she is working on in conjunction with the garden project:
The piece I want to write is from the voice of the Walled Garden itself. A spoken word piece or perhaps a kind of collective voice for neglected spaces and abandoned man made structures. Being in the garden, I hear it almost sigh in relief with the news of this fresh enthusiasm. As if it's been calling out to anyone who might catch it from dust, to fall in love with it again. As those of you involved breathe a new life into the garden, community and beyond, it becomes clearer to me what it's been missing all these years and between spurts of getting my hands dirty, I'll be penning these thoughts.
And truly, the "dust" moment with the gravestone pictured above was part of a much bigger moment that I need to share ... but I'll need to revisit it and get more coherent thoughts on it.
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