Somehow it seemed appropriate to begin on the first.
Although unplanned..... as things often are, in resonance.
Strangely I start my entrance into this space from another empty space.
A family home, occupied all year round except for these few days when its inhabiters are away on holiday.
These inhabiters have left the home which once was mine, and so it is to some extent a "return" I am part of. Here, in this lived-life house, I find the remnants of my past. Oddly disembodied from my present.
Here I return to a time, preserved by my trace.
For now this is all, a substantial entry will appear here soon.
This post will act as my way in - a door if you like.
Everyone needs a door into a space, especially when blinded by the walls.
These sentences are my door, to remind me that as the day of 58 Shelmerdine Close draws nearer to me, so must I draw nearer to it.
Let me not forget then, that the personal is a space saturated within the empty.
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