We had small head lamps, as Michael and I briskly moved to the west following the circle exit, he had taken off the light and was waving it underneath a large pink sheet that was covering his head and much of his body. As he ran away from me and then returning to pass me again a small, shadowy silhouette of a dancing figure could clearly be seen, arms flailing, changing in scale, Michaels agile body was being propelled by this animated figure of light and shadow. I couldn’t b
Lake Crosbie. The next morning we were up fairly early and decided to take a drive around the lake to survey the general area. We didn’t get very far before coming across some old salt mining equipment and salt mounds, which we decided to mine for sonic purposes. The mounds were curiously resonant when walked upon or struck, with plenty of subtle sonic varia-tion. The rusted machinery was also a sonic delight keeping us absorbed. After an hour or so I sought some shade and be
I sounded my bells as I walked. I felt a massive liberation out here in the middle by myself, some kind of elemental freedom from the urbanised sophisticate. After an hour or so my head was starting to spin, I knew I needed to get out of the sun quickly. For a brief moment I lost my tracks and it occurred to me how vulnerable I actu-ally was, yet I still felt vividly alive.