visual work: digital drawings: blues: shipping-forecast-crop

The Shipping Forecast   Sometimes when I’m homesick, I listen to the shipping forecast on Radio Four, and imagine a great deep indigo. I’m a fisherman in my tiny boat. The woman reads the reports with the softest sealined voice - gale warning, becoming cyclonic later, outlook poor. Occasionally very poor for a time. Fog. She’s the opposite of a siren on a distant shore, with reassuring crisp words about the ocean to us fishermen in the night. She is a kind steady voice in a dark glowlit studio in a city somewhere. Dreaming of me, her fisherman. Soothing in high seas.

The Shipping Forecast Sometimes when I’m homesick, I listen to the shipping forecast on Radio Four, and imagine a great deep indigo. I’m a fisherman in my tiny boat. The woman reads the reports with the softest sealined voice - gale warning, becoming cyclonic later, outlook poor. Occasionally very poor for a time. Fog. She’s the opposite of a siren on a distant shore, with reassuring crisp words about the ocean to us fishermen in the night. She is a kind steady voice in a dark glowlit studio in a city somewhere. Dreaming of me, her fisherman. Soothing in high seas.