Voices in the air, on buildings, clothes, skin, vehicles, radios, phones. We scan these tides of sense and nonsense constantly, making stories.
- Grave Digger Petrolheads MCC – on leather, on the bus.
- Boot Locker, Fizzy Lips, Prime Shop to let – arriving in Broadmead.
- Mummy loves you – a mummy.
- Don’t let the city destroy our love – inside TK Maxx.
- Pie, mash, and groovy please – Pieminister, St Nick’s Market.
- HP sauce – on the table, for the pie.
Here in this hive brain, much of it is in different languages, is untranslatable, indecipherable, or unpublishable.
- She’s quite a quiet girl, but – on his phone, one elbow against the wall.
- Any bicycles left against this railing will be removed – Bristol City Council notice.
- Well well, could be worse. They could be taking my body down the street in a hearse – the busker in the picture.
- We are family. I got all my sisters and me – builder singing with his radio, by the cemetery off Tailor’s Court. Where grave-robbers once worked, there are snowdrops like bunches of sisters.
Multi-layered networks, here, now, and never the same again, in the heart of Bristol.
- We can help you unlock the potential of your savings – leaving Broadmead.
- Body piercings here – keep on walking and don’t look back.
- Muller Road please, driver.
- He’s always just shooting right up – into the restful near silence on the bus back.
- Bus stopping
Post by our lovely guest blogger Old Teasel.