Graphics.

I walked to Whitstable last night to visit the Horsebridge Centre and witness the new Psychotic Reaction formation. The venue was a little too clean and new for my performance ideals, and the sound was biased toward the final act, though to feign surprise about such a thing would be like gasping at water turning into ice. I ate chips when I reached Whitstable and, hot as they may have seemed, some were not cooked to a satisfying level. Like Herne Bay, some of Whitstable's notice boards advertise events that are going to happen five years ago. "0227" indeed. They should be rounded up.

I do have photos from that warm evening, but they're just not ART. Instead, I used my Saturday morning turning worlds around. Here are some of the results:







I spent some of the rest of the day by the shoreline and eating. I watched an episode of the newest Doctor Who and wished that it still scared or inspired me. It's nice to fool yourself into liking Honey to the B Piper for most of an hour.

Tomorrow means music in Palace Street. I might take a flask of free coffee, keep it to yourself. There will be loads of 'gutted' England fans, so I might wear some wellingtons.