let’s hang {+ give away winner} | into the next town {UK, part II}

i don’t think i have ever been anything else but a seeker. as of today i’ll commit head on: i am the seeker. i will most probably always be the seeker. searching being the drive force behind the creative process, i seek. {i’m guessing we all do.}

naturally i also want to find. to do so i’ve been asking myself defining questions. what makes what i do mine? a query happening over and again, many times. a day. yes. i’ll admit to that too: it is tiring. very, very tiring. i think i may hang my queries out to dry.

for now, i drew the give away winner already, hand on my heart; eyes closed. congratulations on the happy occasion, babies. your tiny parcel is leaving on monday, if you send me your postal adress.

now. anyone sending me their snail mail address {woolfenbell[AT]gmail[DOT]com} receives a signed tinyWOOLF postcard {not in the shop} anyway; an early season’s greeting, a sharing, let's say. ♥ can i also thank you all for your best wishes on the opening of my tinyWOOLF shop. feel very welcome. now. let's return to england...

the reason why in the eighties we rode into the next town from our remote seaside stead was to gaze at such shops as waterstone's, boots and WAREHOUSE, to next lose ourselves spending pennies. the tearooms we hung out in were authentical, no chain rubbish. {sorry for the hearsey feeling up there in the image. look closely! that horse is doing a muybridge : all four up in the air at the same time.}

also when i lived in kent i dreamed of getting into canterbury art college. remembering my application days fondly i now realize the lack of a stable mentor {and an impressive portfolio} quickly broke off that ambiguous caprice. it doesn't half raise a smile today.

walking those familar streets many thoughts arose, primarily of the '...if ' kind; the alleys of old felt revived, whilest discovering many new ones; the cathedral's quiet cloisters having remained reassuringly square and free to the public. i used to dream here alot, in the shade. last week i silently shot some images ...

... before fleeing the early evening chill, all of a sudden drawn in by lingering young boys' voices, practicing evensong. as the main cathedral lights were being turned off, the presbytery filled up, leaving everyone inside snug and loyal. before the mass hand-outs reached my seat though, i slipped out again, chasing another blast from the past. for now, all of my canterbury here.