Auto Focus - Gavin Evans

Tails of Ressurection

2011-04-20T18:35:00.141+01:00

©Gavin Evans

Roaming the wastelands of Teesside is one of my guilty pleasures. The skyline is no longer seared by sentries of flare stacks but the pilot lights of those still standing steer me. The land is stitched together by endless worming pipelines, once the lifelines of now deceased industries. Although the air is still sterile a sharp intake is no longer choked by chlorine.
This night curiosity pressed my foot to the brake. The allure of a lone pill box sinking in a fallow field was irresistible. The concrete catacomb could be the guardian of treasure, dark secrets or detritus.

©Gavin Evans

I peered in half expecting my gaze to be met square on. Light squeezed through portholes only to be extinguished on an altar of guano and dust. Scratchings on the walls were a reminder of past prisoners or returning tenants.

©Gavin Evans

A shock of red fur bled on a monochrome altar of debris and decay. The corpse of a vixen lay bathed in a pool of light, the ember in her eyes still smouldered. There was serenity in the sarcophagus, no sign of struggle.

©Gavin Evans

Had she succumbed to cruel fate or was she awaiting resurrection; sacrificed by a suburban trappist or outfoxed by a sly trapper? A perimeter of rocks traced her, the letter 'W' conjured words like 'wicker', 'wonder' and 'why'? Was their alignment of significance - part of a lunatic's celestial map? Was their placement profound or purely coincidental?

Wandering the wastelands ain’t always a waste, occasionally it can throw up a twisted tail or two.

Sidewalk Seduction

2011-04-10T14:23:00.000+01:00

Marcus makes his mark on an abandoned mattress.

Potato...Potatoe?

2011-04-07T19:32:00.000+01:00

In the USA the term 'disabled' is considered demeaning.

Artist of the Week

2011-04-03T12:55:00.007+01:00

It was announced yesterday day that I am Saatchi's Online Artist of the Week.

Today I have been chosen by Rebecca Wilson as one of her Weekly Top 10 Artists. Prior to joining Saatchi's Rebecca was editor of ArtReview, and before that deputy editor of Modern Painters. She also created Saatchi's 'New Sensations' showcase.

Saatchi curator Chenoa Solis has also featured my image of Robert Lepage in her collection titled 'Noir'.

Ballet- The Most Incredible Thing

2011-03-17T15:43:00.038Z

Javier De Frutos

Javier called me, had I heard of Hans Christian Anderson’s ‘The Most Incredible Thing’? Incredibly, I hadn’t - a quick Google and, incredibly I had! Javier had been commissioned by Sadler's Wells to create the choreography for a new ballet with original music scored by the Pet Shop Boys and would I come up with an image to front it?
Anderson’s obsession with cutting shapes out of paper was my starting point. Look away now if you don’t want to know the ending; a clock turns out to be the ‘Thing’. My idea was straight forward; replace the hands of a clock with a cut out of the principal dancer. Javier had one request- it should have the feel of a Constructivist poster.
The idea is often the easy part, the trick is to turn concept into surreality. 3D software was the only tool in the box to do the job. My 3D skills were rusty and in need of some serious polishing. I based the structure of the clock loosely on the workings of a19th Century lighthouse time piece. Clemmie Sveaas, performing the role of the Princess, would be the hands.
In a tight rehearsal room at Sadlers, Clemmie contorted her body into every shape I threw at her.

Clemmie Sveaas

Working with Clemmie is always creatively rewarding. There’s no pretense, no tantrums or tiaras, even though she is the Princess- just passion and talent.

Katrina Lindsay

The incredible costumes were provided by Katrina Lindsay who’s considerable talent is equaled only by the accolades stuffed into her trophy cabinet.

Poster image

Press/ programme image

So much is resting on Javier’s shoulders. The hype and the pressure is on - incredible things are expected. Javier is not an extension of the pop duo or the third member- he’s a one off.

Article on Javier in the Royal Academy of Dance’s publication 'Dance Gazette' featuring images by yours - truly.

The Independent

The Times

Final poster

The Guardian Guide

Sadler's Wells site

The Pet Shop Boys site

Therapeutic touch

2011-03-12T14:08:00.001Z

Prof. Dr.Phil. Ruth Hampe

Laura Heraty and Claudine Albert, regional coordinators of The British Association of Art Therapists, invited me to 'touch' those present at a lecture given by eminent art therapist Prof. Dr.Phil. Ruth Hampe from the Catholic University, Freiburg. Twenty five art therapists participated in the experiment and the results make for interesting reading. Here is a selection, view the rest at www.gavinevans.com

Laura Heraty

Isabella Halm

Yvonne Austen

Georgina Ruth

Paul Flemming

Francis Mezzetti

Claudine Albert

Dr.Margaret Hills De Zarate

Andrea Spink

Count Me In...

2011-03-04T23:58:00.005Z

Gary McNair

Gary (McNair) was locked in a blackened cell - a creative flotation tank where his maverick ideas percolated. So far he’d come up with a title ‘Count Me In’. The thread started with the conundrum- we vote in a system we didn’t vote for. What came after that was anyone’s guess. I admire the 26 year old’s hutzpa - he goes out on a limb.
A fortnight later and he was performing ‘Count Me In’ at the Traverse Theatre. Gary compelled a captivated audience to react and interact. The play was high octane and provocative. His uniquely humourous and succinct approach beautifully illustrated the inequities and absurdities of the voting system. Gary ran into the audience, thrust his microphone to the mouths of unsuspecting victims and got them to read from a cue card. The guy sat next to me got one- I was safe. 20 seconds later and Gary returned to me, giving me what felt like a 4 line soliloquy to read- with instructions! The audience picked up on this anomaly- bastardo!

Later, in the Traverse bar, Gary confessed that he saw me and thought “there’s Gavin”. His natural reflex was to thrust the card into my hand. Gary is a talented director, playwright and explosive actor- the consummate theatremaker. Just one bit of advice for those of a shy or nervous disposition- stay clear of his line of sight.

Fashionably Late

2011-02-20T23:08:00.163Z

In 1998 I was commissioned to photograph a group of upcoming British designers. I was assigned a stylist for the job by the name of Isabella Blow. The plumage jetting from her head suggested she was an endangered species with a flair for the extraordinary. We instantly warmed to one another, we made each other giggle. I hadn’t a clue who this creature was, Issy was a legend in the world of fashion - a place foreign to me. I was a neutral, I knew no one from her circles so she felt able to confess and confide in me. We’d meet in low-lit cafes off Piccadilly and she’d tell me of the snubbing she received from the photographers, models and designers she selflessly promoted and mentored. She once called me excitedly to say she’d named me in an an interview as the photographer to watch out for- typical Issy.
Issy suffered from depression and the treatment she received from her contemporaries and muses compounded the misery. Our clandestine confessionals lasted until I left London for Scotland. I was shocked, but not surprised, to hear in 2007 that she had taken her own life. The method she chose to end it was tragic - weed-killer. Exiting her poisonous world in such a dramatic manner seems prophetic in retrospect.
Four years after her death and the carrion are descending. Publications, documentaries and a film of her life are appearing from the coffin's woodwork. Photographers and designers who took advantage of her unrequited generosity are now reaping the post mortem benefits of her influence.

Isabella was like the feathers in her hats- fragile and exotic. The latter-day obitchuaries will, I'm sure, tell their own tales.

Smile for the Camera

2011-02-09T11:35:00.157Z

Q: When is a smile not a smile?

Photograph©Gavin Evans

There is one thing that would significantly improve the quality of Barrie’s life. Every time he looks in the mirror he is reminded of the moment his world was condemned to scrutiny. His perma-grin was the result of a random attack and society won't let him forget. At that moment his anonymity was annulled and he became guilty of crimes he never committed. Disfigurement at the hands of a stranger has scarred him inside and out. Whether the attack is random or gang related, the scarred are scarred. All bearers of Glasgow Smiles are victims- society is the victim too. Barrie wishes his scar could be removed to erase the psychological pain and stigma.
The ‘Glasgow Smile’ is the slashing from mouth to ear resulting in a crescent shaped scar. It’s a cultural thing, unique to Glasgow, you can’t help noticing them- they’re everywhere. In a world obsessed with cosmetic and aesthetic perfection this act of deliberate disfigurement and defilement flies in the face of cultural norms. The prevalence and persistence of this ‘culture’ perpetuates a state of underlying fear- reinforcing the hard-man stereotype. The consequences for the victim are; imposed vilification and demonisation resulting in simultaneous social imprisonment and exile. The ‘Glasgow Smile’ is synonymous with gang culture but is also an act randomly inflicted on innocent bystanders- like Barrie. This practice has existed for at least 60 years and is sustained by the turning of the cheek.

Dr.Christine Goodall

In an attempt to comprehend why this cultural anomaly persists I arranged to meet Dr.Christine Goodall- consultant oral surgeon and founder of Glasgow based charity Medics Against Violence. Christine is at the sharp end of this practice as she treats victims of knife crime from as young as 13 years old. She candidly tells me that these explosive attacks are expressions of the emotionally inarticulate Glaswegian man. Unsurprisingly alcohol is one factor that often facilitates these outbursts. The ‘Glasgow Effect’ coupled with psychological morbidity is a powerful contributing force- difficult to define yet impossible to deny.
Dr.Goodall introduced me to a member of Strathclyde’s Violence Reduction Unit who assures me that I can be introduced to many victims and perpetrators if I want to turn this line of inquiry into a photographic project. With Medics Against Violence’s support I am seriously considering exposing this cultural malaise- if I can make a positive contribution to their goals.

A: When it’s a Glasgow Smile.

In Vein

2011-02-09T10:32:00.290Z

Opposite Arteries is a gallery in a different vein- a shooting gallery hidden from view by hoardings. On a disused plot on Glesga's Bath Street oblivious pedestrians pass within a stone's throw of oblivion.

The place is awash with needles, sterile spoons and pipes. Faeces and tampons litter the ground- with anthrax thrown into the heroin mix, shooting-up these days is riskier than gambling Russian Roulette with five loaded chambers.

Bath Street is no backwater, it's smack in the city centre.

Even the walls of the Institute of Virology appear contaminated.

Girl X

2011-02-02T11:32:00.245Z

There's a new round of upcoming productions at the National Theatre of Scotland. Today I'm sniffing around the Glue Factory where the cast and crew of Girl X are assembled. Director Pol Heyvaert is putting 12 members of the Citizens Theatre's choir, gently but assuredly through their paces. The choir are getting to grips with the daunting task of synchronous speaking- speaking as one and memorising 43 pages of script. The play, concept of lead actor and disabled rights activist Robert Softley, is based on the controversial issues surrounding the 'treatment' of Ashley X. Although this play is certain to challenge the audience it is in no way didactic.

The show is premiering at the Traverse Theatre on the 4th March and runs 'till the 13th March.

Pol Heyvaert

Robert Softley

It was a battle to get home; through gale force winds, past dead dumpsters and umbrella mortuaries.

Shoot-Up

2011-01-27T22:03:00.541Z

I need to get commercial. The past 18 months working with Glasgow's vulnerable and homeless has left me in a financially precarious place. The project to raise funds for a Big Issue Foundation has regrettably come to an end. The Big Issue management were behind my initiative- to create a 'biopic' iPhone/ iPad app starting with Iggy Pop then followed by vendor Barrie Greenan. A succession of sessions of artists and celebrities would follow- subsequent 'biopic' subjects. Sponsorship of the apps would have gone towards the funding of a Big Issue Foundation in Scotland and covering my production costs. Unfortunately the magazine have been unable to respond to any of my emails and without it's support there is no point continuing. The upshot of this misadventure is that, after investing so much of my time and resources in to the project, I need to find somewhere cheaper to rent- oh the irony!

To support my artistic development and keep me afloat I need someone in London to do my business- to find me work. A colleague recommended me to one of the best agents in the world of commercial photography- Horton-Stephens. Niall and his team are excited at the prospect of representing me- I have faith in their enthusiasm and expertise.

Niall Horton-Stephens

After meeting with Horton-Stephens I shot down Shoot-up Hill to my bed for the night.

William, The Maxwells front man.

William was mid band-practice at the Maxwell-Collins household. He broke the flow to welcome me and announce that in a fortnight he'd be supporting his father at the Shepherds Bush Empire. His band, The Maxwells (named in honour of his mother's side of the family), will be performing their first gig in front of a crowd of over 1000 but he ain't fazed.

Grace

It has been a long while since I've felt the warmth of this fiercely matriarchal household. The volume still reaches fever pitch and there's no room for the sentimental or superficial. Under Grace's stewardship the Maxwell-Collins juggernaut careers ever onward and upward with more laughter and less falling. If ever there was a motivation guru in the making then Grace is it.

Edwyn

Edwyn had been busy producing bands in his studio and working on his upcoming exhibition 'Nature Punk' showing at the Idea Generation Gallery. It's great to see Ed being creative on all fronts, giving as good as he gets and receiving the critical praise deserves.

This intimate image is one of triumph over adversity. Being with Grace and Edwyn puts things into perspective- money isn't the be all.

Make Believe

2011-01-20T11:59:00.224Z

The Office, Gordon Lane, Glesga

“I’ll have tae call you back, the police wanna word.”

It was a beautiful evening in July but on the west coast conditions were taking a turn for the worse. Barrie was being interrogated in The Office (Gordon Lane) by the boys in blue.

An hour later he called me back. “You’ll never faaken believed it...” Curiously, every time he says "you’ll never believe it," I almost always do.

Barrie had responded to cries for help coming from the lane. His fellow drinking compatriot Scott was being attacked by Cyclops, a monocular blade wielding thug. Cyclops threw away the knife at the sight of an oncoming Barrie before making good his escape past two bicycle mounted police responding to the incident.

The police arrived on the scene to find Scott berating Barrie. Barrie thought the knife had landed on an air-conditioning unit so they made a spectacularly failed attempt to find the evidence. Scott couldn’t lift Barrie- he was recovering from a recent groin operation. The two inebriates were unable to stand tall, let alone scale the dizzying height of the unit- almost 4 metres from the ground. The police charged Barrie with lifting a pole off the air-con unit with the intention of using it as a weapon.

Barrie was furious “Pole? Wha’ pole? There was nae pole.” In the eyes of the police Barrie was better off the streets and out of sight.

Glasgow Sheriff Court

August 2010. Glasgow Sheriff Court. At the first trial the evidence, the pole, could not be found. Nevertheless, the judge postponed the trial and served Barrie with a curfew order- off the streets by 7pm. This only served to prevent him from evening visits with his two daughters who were suffering from meningitis.

Toilets at the court- the blue lighting prevents addicts finding a vein

October 2010. Court Room 16. The second hearing was delayed- as usual. At one o’clock the court went into recess for lunch and Barrie’s lawyer suggested that I wrote a letter of commendation in case he was found guilty. I left Barrie and Scott to their liquid lunch and headed to a nearby cafe. When I returned Barrie was alone. He looked up at me and groaned “You’ll never faaken believe it...”

The dynamic duo were life-saving while I was busy composing. A widower floated by them, face down, as they were taking refreshments by the banks of the Clyde. Without hesitation Scott dived into the black waters and retrieved the wouldbe suicide victim. The prosecuting witnesses (the police) were watching on as the event unfolded and escorted Scott to the hospital to have him checked out for hypothermia. Back in court Barrie’s lawyer confessed that this was a first in all his years of practice at the bar. The judge had to agree and the trial was adjourned- again.

November 2010. The morning of the big day and Scott downed a bottle of cream sherry, in one, to steady his nerves. Barrie’s lawyer couldn’t call a soused Scott to stand as witness- Barrie was on his own. In Court Room 16 the Procurator Fiscal produced evidence- a metal pole with Barrie's name attached. The police witness couldn’t identify the object as the 'weapon' from the crime scene! The pole, as he recollected from his notes, was wooden not metal. The Procurator Fiscal requested that the trial be adjourned for 45 minutes while they tried to locate the actual evidence! Three quarters of an hour later and- you’ll never faaken believe it! A wooden pole turned up, again with Barrie’s name on it. It was his word against theirs. Was Barrie implying that the police were committing perjury? The judge had no alternative other than to find him guilty of a ‘very serious’ crime.

January 2010, sentencing day, Room 15, Glasgow Sheriff Court. I arrived in time for Barrie's lawyer to pass my letter of commendation to the judge. The judge peered over his spectacles at the room of assembled guilty and asked ”Is Mr Gavin Evans in court?” Barrie turned to me from the dock and I raised my finger. “Ah, the smartly dressed man at the front!” The heads of the condemned turned my way. “Mmm... Photographer in Residence with the National Theatre of Scotland,” he was impressed. In giving his verdict the judge summed that Barrie was indebted to his referees and, despite the serious nature of the crime, he would commute the sentence from a custodial term to one of 18 months probation.
Without letters of commendation from 'professionals' could Barrie be serving a sentence in Barlinnie for a crime of fiction? You'd better believe it!

Skippering

2011-01-19T14:52:00.009Z

Barrie showed me to where he used to 'skipper'- sleep rough. For a couple of years he slept on the beam of this bridge over the river Clyde. As if to prove the point there is a duvet hanging there like a ghostly reminder.

Extract

2011-01-19T11:19:00.144Z

In July I was approached by Dundee Health Services Unit. The unit was in the process of compiling the largest survey of the dental health and well-being of Scottish homeless people to date. 853 took part in a questionnaire and dental health checks- Barrie was one of the original interviewees for the project. A picture of the characteristics and needs of this group of people has been built up from the results. The next stage of the project is to; develop an oral health initiative for homeless people, offer assistance with finding a dentist, making and attending appointments and so on.
The unit requested permission to use one of the 'biopic' images for the cover of the report. The reproduction fee was obvious- teeth for Barrie. Barrie and I had agreed long ago that our last photographic session would be when he could smile without stigma or embarrassment. The unit gladly agreed to this reciprocal arrangement. The end is nigh.

Breaking with Convention

2011-01-07T14:03:00.262Z

The sense - producing human machine works on the basis of a very simple law:

We cannot see all the phenomena we can think of,
and we cannot think about certain images we can see.

The power of the sense, which cannot be reproduced in words or images,
belongs to the world of human feelings, as inner side of every image or word.

The sense we live in - the sense behind the one we believe in - is a vehicle which can be used for our journey or abused for the journey of someone else.

Eda Cufer- NSK

23 September 1993

Dear Mr Evans,

I am writing with reference to the reproduction of one of the

photographs from your recent exhibition published in the Sunday

Times Magazine of 29 August 1993.

The British Red Cross has a special responsibility for monitoring

unauthorised use or misuse of the red cross emblem and of designs

closely resembling the red cross emblem within the United

Kingdom. This is part of the price we pay for the privilege to

use the red cross emblem in our work.

I realise that the photograph in question does not replicate

exactly the red cross emblem. However, the red cross used might

be said to fall within the statutory provision prohibiting use

of designs closely resembling the red cross emblem without prior

authorisation from the Secretary of State for Trade and Industry

(Section 6(2)(b) of the Geneva Conventions Act 1957 - copy

attached). Perhaps more importantly, you will understand that

the image is rather stark, with disturbing connotations, running

counter to the meaning of the red cross emblem and the

humanitarian objects of the International Red Cross.

As you may be aware, the red cross emblem is the internationally

agreed symbol of protection during armed conflicts. It is used

to safeguard the wounded and sick and those who seek to help them

in a totally neutral and impartial way. If the red cross is

used for other purposes, no matter how insignificant or

beneficial they may seem, its special significance will be

diminished and potentially lives may be lost.

I also enclose a leaflet which may help to explain more clearly

the restrictions on use of the red cross design. Similar

restrictions apply in most other countries.

Whilst respecting fully your freedom of expression as an artist,

I feel obliged to bring the special significance of the red cross

and the legal restrictions on its use to your notice and ask for

your understanding and co-operation.

I should be most grateful if you would kindly take the above

comments into account when producing future material.

Thank you in advance for your consideration and support.

The 'enclosed leaflets'

The above warning was received when I was promoting my first, and last, commissioned exhibition 'dis'. I was astounded to find I had unwittingly broken the Geneva Convention. dis was a collaborative project that investigated the 'power of information'- a subject popularised by the introduction of Wikileaks. The image at the center of the controversy explored the appropriation of symbols and how sentiment or meaning could be changed or perverted. To the right a Lucky Strike cigarette packet is cut to reveal the word 'lust'. Lucky Strike claimed to change their branding from green to red during WW2 to save on copper used in the printing process. This was convenient propaganda; in reality the green graphic didn't appeal to female smokers. To the left is the image of a man broken into the shape of the Sanskrit symbol for good luck- the svastika. The svastika has had it's meaning irreparably changed by association with fascism. The positive '+' symbol that the body hangs on is corrupted by the negative connotations of the swastika. The '+' is on a black background though, not white and is also proportionately slimmer than the Red Cross logo. This incident clearly illustrates the value and sensitivity of information.

The Glasgow Pavilion's Christmas pantomime production of Robin Hood has now fallen foul of the Red Cross rule. The character of a nurse wearing a uniform with a red cross has too broken the Geneva Convention. This has turned a pantomime into a farce. I thought that the choice of Jim Davidson as lead actor was enough to break any conventions of taste.

A friend slipped this pamphlet into my hands when I told him of the Red Cross's attempt to expurgate the project.

New Site

2010-11-02T19:22:00.028Z

Kai- demon programmer

Kai has been working his magic and has rejuvenated my site. You can now see my images with the added bonus of a loupe to get close up and personal. I've added to the Open Edition prints the option to pay what you want for a 10"x8" print- just cover my costs.

New Site- Subject to Change

Showmen

2010-09-24T18:47:00.090+01:00

The showmen have pitched-up on the Meadows. These fairground folk are fair folk- don't call them travellers- they are showmen. Under the stewardship of father and son team, John and Jordan Evans (no relation to me) are bringing all the fun of the fair to the Edinburgh locals.

John Evans

Jordan Evans

Sheldon Evans

Sheldon Evans Jnr

Greg Hickey

Tanya Hickey

Nyla Hickey

The world of the showman is a family affair.

Take Your Pic

2010-09-11T14:50:00.034+01:00

Mementos from the motherland.
Dreams can come true- take your pic.

Ar Chaos on the Thames

2010-09-08T22:49:00.151+01:00

A retrospective of the world of legendary French circus Archaos was launched tonight as part of the Mayor's Thames Festival. My work is the centre piece of the show but I couldn't afford the fare to London to give a first hand account of the audience's reaction. I'd have liked to meet the old performers again and recollect the days of diesel fumes and cunning stunts.

The following is a selection of press/ publicity cuttings featuring my images:

The Guardian on-line

The Independent

The Stage

Mark Borkowski's Blog

Guardian paper

Free Art London

Coin Street

Thames Festival on-line

iPhone app

2010-08-08T22:17:00.000+01:00

The iPhone app is working and is the model for the Big Issue 'biopic' app. With the support and coverage of the magazine it is hoped that the app will attract sponsorship which will in turn go towards funding a Big Issue Foundation in Scotland.

You can download the app by entering www.m.gavinevans.com into Safari and then adding the app to your 'home screen'.

A Fare Cop

2010-08-01T22:30:00.108+01:00

Sunday Herald Magazine

I was between interviews for the post of Photographer in Residence with the National Theatre of Scotland- grilled by photographer David Eustace before being roasted by Roberta Doyle, Head of External Affairs. In the interlude I'd arranged to meet Barrie who was accompanied by vendors Scott and Rab. We were on our way from the Big Issue office in the Saltmarket to their pitches when police appeared from out of the blue and pulled us aside. The boys were drinking on the street- an offence in these parts of Glesga. Barrie shrugged off the incident- he'd amassed a pyre of fines. The belt around the policemen's waists drew my attention. The usual tools dangled; telescopic truncheons, cuffs and mace- nothing out of the ordinary. It was the taser and pistol that jolted my senses. Armed police handing out tickets to alcoholics- a sobering thought.

It's a fare cop!

biopic 02 chapter 11

2010-07-09T12:31:00.058+01:00

Barrie appears better. The swelling from the beating has subsided but the whites of his eyes tell their own story.

Appleby and Pomegranate

2010-06-08T23:07:00.124+01:00

Pre Appleby Gypsy gathering, Teesside

I’d planned to celebrate my birthday visiting Appleby Fair with Barrie. For years I’ve had the intention of attending the UK’s biggest gathering of Gypsy travellers. Barrie was glad of the invite and the chance to escape Glesga for a day or two. The night before we were due to leave I called him on the phone to firm arrangements. He was distraught, he couldn’t face living and the thought of the trip was the furthest thing from his mind. A couple of weeks ago he was been beaten within an inch of his life- another case of mistaken identity. Three men muscled their way into his home and taught him a lesson he couldn’t comprehend. None of my cagoling could permeate, let alone lift his depression. Barrie was drowning his sorrows in a sea of discount lager. The phone dropped from his hand and he went silent. All I could hear was the white noise of pedestrians and Tannoys- he was slumped in the entrance of Central Station.

I found him the next day roaming aimlessly in the rain. In the car he broke down. If asked him, if he had the choice, where would he want to be right there and then? It was my birthday and we were going to make good. His sister’s home in Hamilton sprang instantly to mind- the sanctity of the family nest. By the warmth of his sister's hearth he regained his strength and complained about his aching shoulder. Barrie had fallen down a flight of stairs the week before while attempting to cold turkey- the shock to this system resulted in a fit. Pulling on a shirt was agony. His injuries spread over his back like the flesh of a peeled pomegranate- back in the car.

After an hour at the local A and E Barrie appeared with his arm in a sling- he had fractured his shoulder.

We'll try again next year.

Saltmarket Invite

2010-05-20T21:50:00.012+01:00

Caution