heading down to brighton after jake and i part ways, he's off to see his friends in shoreditch and brick lane, me i'm heading down south england, brighton to catch up with terry and jean who i have not seen in 24 years. i sit next to a guy reading alexander dumas, so we chat about his work and swap fave books.
down in brighton the sun starts to shine, every one looks happy and healthy, the station looks busy with a nice flow, those victorians knew how to build majestically, i wonder if terry will recognise me, it's been a long time. a long time.
it's surreal, when we meet up the changes are obvious, 24 years measured in memory, the present makes us appear different and the traces of youth are lost in a distant memory and feeling, the past they say is another country. but the three off us are older, wiser and somewhat more mature than when we last stood together, our experience has shaped us and moulded us in similar ways, it's quite remarkable seeing these people, profoundly moving and very emotional.
we decide to have a wander through brightons hot spots, the wonderful lanes and craft shops, the bookshops and coffee shops, the eccentric styles and individuals who inhabit them, i immediately really like this place, it puts me at ease, terry says it's the bohemian in me, and i think he's right.
there's something about brighton, the individuality of things, the general vibrancy, vitality and english seaside archetype novelty of it. i can certainly understand why it attracts a creative crowd, there's some very interesting things happening here, the people all seem creative and young energy abounds. we wander down to the beach where i see not sand but stones, millions of stones. it's surreal seeing this beach, where is the sand? it's something my brain finds difficult to cope with.
we get some fish and chips, sit down by a merry- go- round and suddenly i'm travelling through time, terry warns me not to step on a butterfly lest i cease to exist.
we drive back to their lovely home in working, stopping to look at the eccentric house boats.
later we eat food and go walking down to the beach where im again bemused and somewhat bewildered by the stones on the beach.
we have a late night, talking, we cover all things important, it's good, it feels good and healing in a way, these time loops and cycles are here for reasons, it's important for me to honour them.
terry and jean can't do enough for me, they are so generous and caring, noble souls on a bumpy journey working it all out, struggling with the same shit as i do, they are articulate and well read and terry is a encyclopedia of information, jean has her own independent intelligence, and they have created a harmonious environment, creative and nurturing, these are my friends, these are my tribe.
the next morning we head of to the wonderful downs, where we climb up to a chalk plateau and gaze down at the land and ocean. terry tells me that the chalk here and all over the south of england is actually the bones of lifeforms that have sunk down. it's an outstanding fact, imagine the volume of life it took to create these structures.
i return to london, terry and jean walk with me through the labyrinth of streets as we hunt for a pair of furry boots i saw yesterday, but it's no good, they have mysteriously vanished.
we say goodbye, it's strange, 'not just a reunion, an event' terry says.
i'm sitting on the train, heading back to london, there's a tear in my eye. it's a strange experience, to connect after so long away, to discover that the people i care about have all taken very different routes but arrived at the same inner truths. this is reassuring for me, it gives me something that i have not had in a while. hope.
terry, jean, i'm so lucky to have you in my life, what absolutely genuine souls you are, in many ways my journey started with you guys, it's not over yet, we have some tracks to lay down, an unfinished blues number, some dirty rhythm's, three chords and the truth. the deep fix.