On the train to Brussels Nadia points out street of women in windows. They sit or dance in their undress. My reflection in the window stops me seeing properly.
At a Market in Brussels
Horta's house is dead
The following diary excerpts, emails, texts and transcripts will record my extraordinary experiences as I prepare some sort of work for the next Whitstable Biennale in 2010. At the point of writing I have very little idea of what I will do. All the records are exactly contemporary and given from the standpoint and within the range of knowledge of those who gave them.