The rain lashes, the wind whips, many damp people groan and tut at the audacity of a wet winter. A journey; a long one with bags of objects that would be considered entirely surplus. We arrive and are left in the absence of tension. The scent in the air is…

The crack – the crackle – the opening for light and darkness, sounds and silence. The opening for something new or something old to be found, profound or in the surface. A crack in a rock, a crack in the mirror, a crack in the everyday surface. It opens up…