I Live Here Now

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Then the whole long line set forth in the dusk, their shadows in the water more beautiful than the line itself. Most of us are anxious about the sudden Orange red was also the colour of the trousers I put on that day, perhaps to invoke the berries, of one of my supermarket foraging bags, of my daughter’s hat and coat and the strap of my satchel. Gluzberg has had an extensive teaching career – most recently the Royal College of Art, where she was Reader in Contemporary Visual Production for many years.

I want to take in this sounding part of her — a pitch and sway as pleasingly familiar as her gait, not conveyed by the e-mailed words which have had to stand for her in this recent absence — that breaks out of her speech and runs away in the other direction, like water. Prints of one of these bandstand drawings are being sold in the café on the street below, where his father’s bakery once stood, to fund a campaign to save the circus from being dug up and “re-landscaped” by the local council.I make drawing after drawing, sometimes by eye, but mostly trying to measure it, and it continues to elude me. The professor talked happily of topology as we made our way along the shoreline, of Moëbius bands and the Klein bottle, those enigmatic, endlessly looping surfaces that seem to deflect a defining of inside or out, of solid boundaries keeping things apart on one side or another. She has exhibited in London, Scotland and Paris, and published a book of writing and drawings about walking in cities, I Live Here Now .

And when I finished my swim, dried and got dressed, I picked up my bag from the shore and walked back to the road. Two days ago the sun nudged just above the walls of the back tenements, enough to push a triangle of light into the corner of my room for the first time in months.The young man and woman who work here talk to me about how long they haven’t seen their siblings for, about the difficulty of travel, to home in Thessaloniki, to a brother working in Germany. I had never seen such a gathering, but realised that they must have been blown down from the gutters, or the slate rooftops by the lifting winds.

I loved your sketches and the energy they transmit, also it was good to see my good friend Liza Dimbleby in there too! Our breakfasts were prolonged, and the tea was drunk hot, lukewarm and stewed — the buckthorn ameliorated the bitterness of the ever strengthening dregs, as the hot water ran out and we were draining the tepid condensed tea essence, or zavarka.A measured voice, careful and without cliché in his choice of words, his narration of this particular story, and a voice in which I hear echoes of my earliest love and attention, no matter if I must now share it with millions of other people listening.

An old philosopher I knew in Moscow told me that his name was from the Ukrainian for tailor, Sukach, from the more archaic sukno, cloth.A last long segment of orange light fans out towards me across the leafy floor, and then that too is eclipsed. It is true that they seem to be more constant these days, a permanence in their windows, continually painting and working. All structured data from the main, Property, Lexeme, and EntitySchema namespaces is available under the Creative Commons CC0 License; text in the other namespaces is available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License; additional terms may apply. Leaving behind a room full of promise, a great fat pocket of time, about to be trodden into streets. I sit and follow the stirring of the tree, the kite, the hat of the girl — going up and back, and repeating again like a swing.