The stage was set, the people gathered, no real plan and the rest just happened. The tide came in and ate the fire. Temporary art, in all the elements. I’ve never launched a book like this before. It was magnificent.
Later now and the flame from the Rollo chimney is coming straight after a mysterious right side smokiness. The chickens are hatching and running loose in there. The Brickell Band kicks in like a potato grater on your soul, but settles into something resembling a real band...
Day 1: Thursday. A chicken dance AI agenda. Can you identify any risks? Let’s go build something with a nail gun. A giant chicken? A barricade? A raft? The palpable relief that comes with purpose. Holly is nailing it. The clouds move in all directions. A bit like us...
