i woke up at 2 o'clock for walk number 6 with no ideas. my mind in its just woken, still dreaming state was drawing a blank. previous experience told me that inspiration would come on the walk to the walk. i checked my pockets to see if i'd remembered my notebook - there'd be something in there to force an idea.
walk time 2h 15
a blank, swiftly followed by another - this sign normally active to tell motorists the state of parking play in the city, but obviously switched off to save money in these times.
i remembered the image from yesterday that had stuck with me - the blank billboard - a voice with nothing to say - a shout reduced to mute.
the rest of the walk to my starting point confirmed the plan for the walk. 3 am on a sunday morning is a time of emptiness for a city, or this city at any rate. there was a stillness, a blankness - a sense of something missing. the feeling was of an over-exercised organ being allowed to catch its breath before the next period of concerted effort. a calm but with the sense that it would be short lived. the only disrupters of the ennui were the ubiquitous insect-like taxis buzzing around doing nothing in particular and the birdsong, anonymous but beautifully and comfortingly repetitive. otherwise, the blankness of slumber.