October 26th 2017
Nick B, dressed in mustard yellow, guides me around a Quartermaster’s store. We are preparing to head off to Wales (or Scotland). He is very knowledgable about some surprising subjects. He suggests that we buy a ‘pine tree’ to take with us on our adventure. “We will plant it somewhere out there as a memorial.”
We barter with the Quartermaster & select a tree. Nick B haggles & insists on paying for everything.
October 27th 2017
I bump into Sharon K. We haven’t seen each other since 1986. She says that she is underwhelmed by how life has turned out.
October 29th 2017
On a strange beach. A ship appears. It comes in close to the shore. From my vantage I can see the rocks on the seabed beneath the vessel. The water is crystal clear. Lots of others arrive on the sand & begin to take photos. Three men leave the ship, wading toward the shore. “It’s the Dutch,” someone says. It seems to be quite an event! A tiny submarine appears from beneath the water.
Talking to a woman. She has huge teeth. We suddenly begin to kiss, but it is without passion. “I cannot love,” she says.
Now, we are at a bazaar. We go into a shop. Kenny L is the owner. He is hanging up tiny, fragile windchimes from the ceiling. They are constructed from pins & magnets & set in tubes of water. The woman turns into a man & she/he & Kenny L begin to have an indepth conversation about bodybuilding! I wander off toward the back of the shop. There is a book on a table & I begin to leaf through it. It is an index of my clients’ details. I stop at a random page. It reads – ‘Marina; too slow!’ The book upsets me.
October 30th 2017
I arrive in Brazil & head to the bazaar. It is rather like Camden Market (but better!). The woman who runs this particular stall is tall & has long, grey hair. “Hello,” she says. “You remind me of someone.” She has a thick, Yorkshire accent. I look through racks of secondhand clothes & pick out a patchworked silver-grey shirt, some patchwork pantaloons, a yellow & blue jacket. It is very Vivienne Westwood! All the clothes are very expensive, but, being on holiday, I am determined to buy something as a souvenir. I take the items into a changing-room & try on the clothes. The room is a muddy, waterlogged stable. The clothes are light & loose fitting; I like them. A woman enters. She is the cleaner. “They suit you,” she says. I buy the shirt, saying that I will be back later for the other pieces.
It is night. I go to a restaurant wearing my new shirt.