07 June 2007
It might as well be 1920 and I have just finished an excruciatingly exhausting day in the field, in search of great things to present at Primitive. I feel like I am on the Orient Express, which I have just rushed to catch, slumped in my compartment, wearing a wrinkled linen suit, my Pandora, the most reliable sunshield I know, swaying on a hat hook as the train begins to chug along. Loosening m...