Sunday morning in town, its a bit breezy, people making the shortcut through the graveyard, a flock of pigeons or Rock Doves as they used to be called, air con units, aircraft heading away from London, a lady whose perfume I detected before I saw her, I feel like I have to behave differently in this urban environment as I can’t blend in to being a tourist, I’m more on guard, a man asking if he was in my way, I wave him through, people aren’t here to look at the attraction they’re on their way to somewhere else so why would I be sitting in a graveyard with a lot of recording kit on a Sunday morning feeling vulnerable? The concerned man walks back through the other way with a drink less concerned this time, a car with loud music travelling down Queen Street, a gull, a man sneezing, ‘Morning!’ said a man who took a photograph of the ruins, and exclaiming child in a push chair.

It’s warm on the outside, warm on the in, I can feel the effects of my (non-psychedelic) mushroom gummy, my 21st day of sobriety, I made it to 47 days last time so let’s see how I get on, I do have more clarity but I also feel slightly removed from some situations, its a new feeling as I take a step in to the next stage of my life, leaving a lot of things behind, embracing the new, and trying to be kinder to myself, a Robin, a man running, a woman on a phone call, the Rock Doves taking to the air and flying past the microphone, someone clapping, the shadows moving slowly but perceptibly, dapples, gravestones with names eroded away over time, a lady with a Nirvana t-shirt, I’m writing more today as I have my head down as a defence mechanism, not wanting to engage with passers by, the wind has died down a bit but I only notice as it picks up and moves the trees, a lady in her Sunday best, the fragrance of a woman after I have seen her, a man with a hand in his pocket, the Robin again, I need to take some tips from this experience as I’ll be recording in Ipswich Town Centre soon where I imagine there will be lots of passers by, I have done lots of urban recording before but not with film, and not for as long durations, Church bells but from further away than St.Botolphs, a motorbike, the Church bell of St.Botolphs, nearer with longer intervals whilst the further faster bells still play, here it sounds like a ‘Campanology Course for People with No Sense of Timing’, a Jay, a cough, curious children, a man with crocs who says ‘Allo mate!’ but wasn’t talking to me, people wearing all black even though it is still really summery, a man with a striped t-shirt, a woman with a spotty dress, at first it was interesting that the soundscape was punctuated with a bell nearby and somewhat haphazard but now it’s annoying that they haven’t got any better and it hasn’t formed in to a one note polyrhythmic masterpiece, the Robin’s warning call, some lads being laddish, a woman with blue hair.

Piece of Paper
Under the arch
Sheltering
Then after 10 minutes
Wheels across the path to the grass
Someone let it go without screwing it up
Which is rare
Gave it a chance to leave
To go on its own
To seek sanctuary
Within the confines of wherever the wind takes it
We could all learn a lesson from that.