My journeys these days take me passed the homes I almost inhabbited. In my mind driving through the landscape, towns, villages, I walk through the rooms I may have changed, knocked a wall down, kept the northern pantry. The Saw Mills, the first, Tunstall the first serious I backed out, the Water Home, Cockatrice – the land is punctuated with these narratives stories of almost living. And still i search on. Why the restless soul? A fault line? Any one of them would have been fine. Milarepa comes to mind.
Searching for a home
Kaliwood 