Looking around the city there are always things out of place but when more than one interputs your path on a nights walk then you start to wonder. Last night, in between looking at the sky, my companions and I began observing the derelict and the faded.
">
That's what someone told me once. I don't know if it's true as I've never been to Australia. The plane trails last night were amazing. The sky was lit up by a strong sunset but the warm weather had put storm clouds in the air and the sky was being ploughed up by all the people heading off to Australia to see if they have plane trails there.
I've worked out how to alter the template to add things down the side of the page so I thought I would explain the new links I've added.
I have come across some interesting sites all linked around a group called Luna Nera. They are putting on a project in Russia called Kronstadt2004, on an island off the coast of St.Petersburg. It was built as a naval base and looks like an incredible site. They will be exploring it site-specifically using an old residence and a tent struture.
The info on the project is at Kronstadt2004
From that I started exploring those involved and came across Gillian McIver and her research MA project 'art/site'.I've yet to read it in detail but it seems to contain some interesting models of investigation in to site as well as texts.art/site
And finally the group that seems to be behind the whole thing, Luna Nera. They also intitated the Derelict Sensation show at St.Pancras Station. Their site is Luna Nera
We agreed that it would be nice to meet for a drink and arranged a mutual rendezvous so they could nip off to the cinema after. The weird thing was that it seemed so far away when we actually walked there. We walked that same route everyday for weeks but it never seemed that far before.
A small boy stumbles on his scooter and trips head first in to the curb. He picks himself up, dusts off and nonchalantly
continues down the street. He's not very good at balancing on his toy but his determination in the heat is admirable.
The cut through pulled away in front of me. As it turned gently round a corner far in the distance any exit was obscured from me. At intervals, along the unrelenting fencing, pockets of youths gather, filling the narrow passageway with their calls and heckles. A small intrusion to my left indicates an appreciated diversion. The new path plunges me in to a land of flowers and rustling trees against white washed plaster walls. Uncomfortable I walk faster towards my destination.
An ongoing dialogue between Lucy Gibson (Leeds, UK) and Ric Spencer (Perth, Western Australia)
