Slowly Bringing The Map To Life

Pour la version française de cette publication – CLIQUEZ ICI

Whenever I return to a place I’ve not been for some time, a narrative gets triggered by an inner voice which builds gradually as I approach destination.

This inner voice doesn’t talk in a standard way because I am the only listener. Sometimes it is simply a spider-thin string spun out of the sights, sounds, smells, textures hiding unseen around me. Suddenly, there they all are. And what was merely a map comes to life.

The collection of these items takes time. Generally, it’s when my hand is already writing all this down that I notice the pen or pencil moving across the page.

Jotting things down helps the tuning-in process. The result is a list of sorts, the ingredients for the storyboard of a home-movie. Something intimate and artisanal, but not completely private, because its contents are also perceptible to others. Contents may be too big a word for it – scraps may be more appropriate. The scraps get saved, and some also get reshaped a little until they’re ready to share.

Here’s an example. This could be the start of a scrapbook.

TWILIGHT LONDON TRAIN

AUDIO

It’s all still here –

The places, the place names,
The hum of the language,
The quality of the laughter.

We roll past fences, past fields,
The territories of the unreal,
With a window between us.

Hunched runners are huddled,
Biding time as my body rocks
To the tick of the sleepers.

Battersea – cranes blinking
Early warning evening lights,
Slowly bringing the map to life.