Lured by the blue sky, clear air, glorious sunshine, and unseasonably warm temperature, on Friday I took the risk of going to Folkestone to see the Triennial (till 5 Nov) and have lunch by the seaside.
Hmm, didn't quite work out that way ... I got off at the "wrong" station (as compared to previous years) so the place looked a bit different ... and the walk along the clifftop was great, with a few bits of art to notice, perhaps part of the "permanent collection" rather than this year's crop -
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"Temporary sign" and passing shadow |
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(The choice!) |
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Mark Wallinger's Folk Stones, 2008 - one for each of the 19,240 British soldiers killed on the first day of the battle of the Somme, 1 July 1916 |
In the centre of town, the sunshine continued, but I was completely discombobulated and not terribly interested in the artworks, even after getting a map that showed what and where they were, and coming across "fringe" works too.
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Little houses in inappropriate places .... |
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"This is an accurate timepiece made from gunpowder. It shows a 12 hour clock (showing both night and day) and runs on a 24 hour loop. Hours, Minutes and Seconds are exactly marked by a series of small explosions" |
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Look through the peepholes and see "Burning Time" by Colin David |
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"Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens" (Nathan Coley) |
Then it came time to find "somewhere nice" to eat, and my resilience crumbled into food-indecision and wandering into charity shops -
However that very one yielded a copy, with lurid cover, of the first of
Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, which I'm wanting to re-read before getting The Book of Dust.
So when further indecisive food-wandering led along a quiet street to a pub called The Pullman, there was no further decision to be made.
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Possibly the only bike being pushed in Folkestone that day |
Late lunch, then head for the nearest station.
It was good to see the sea -
Slimply Red had a song that they used that line "heaven is a place where nothing every happens."
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