Field Study's Man in E11 has an empty warehouse for a brain (I mean mind)
I have, for the last week or so, been clearing out a warehouse. Our distribution depot is moving from Bermondsey to Wood Green and this marks the beginnings of a significant re-orientation for Field Study's Man in E11's significant others; me, myself and I, in the guise of Julian Beere. Our workaday ventures will begin with a commute north west, rather than south west, from the flat-lands of Leytonstone. We will miss the Limehouse Cut and, at this time of year, the welcome cooling shade and shelter of Southwark Park - oh, and the fume-filled mind bend of the Rotherhithe Tunnel. What about all those familiar strangers who appeared in my, or our, daily traipse? Were they ghosts, figments, unrequited imaginary friends invented to ease a fear of being alone, or worse, prey to the demons and monsters of the road, broadway, high street, mills, riverside, lock, cut, basin, tunnel and park? I imagine the field student is appalled by the withering output of Julian Beere. 'Don...