The first walk of the cycle, Bath's Last Legal Slaveowners, outside the residencies of Bath's Last Legal Slaveowners, those who hung on to the bitter end to claim their share of the £20 million payout. I performed the court judgment angry perhaps for my own white skinned and gendered euro centric collusion, perhaps for the way that They always get away with it. Bear witness at least we can all do that. My sense-ing began playful, turns angry and by the end as we taste sugar and I read Dabydeen turns to tears.
On Tuesday it began with a station announcement "Platform One for the Merchant Venturer to Bristol Temple Meads only"
and I was off into the layering, the obscuring and wondering how to unpick and tell it. So were we all for the rest of the day. I got off at Keynsham met with the walkers and we headed down pst the old Cadbury's factory gates, to the river to the Brass Mill. Another sharp and painful connecting point. Here is the social media trail for the day, a few blips to be ironed out.
and thus we arrived walking through to Bristol having dragged virtual fingers across the sharpest points, the piercing points through which chocolate and tea are made palatable, the deafening bashing out of brass pots and the deadly silence of the money that greased it all. The water cycle, warm wet winds from the Atlantic dampen our cheeks, more than tears flowing in river memory water. Walks continue.