This is my last early morning train journey to London. I like to sit in the vestibule of the bicycle carriage and watch the cyclists jockey their mounts into their stalls. Many years ago I met a curator crocheting on this train. She was horrified that I was about to embark on a PhD and foretold the end of my practice. I already had an uneasy relationship with research so her prognostication tickled my unease. Forgive me I am tired.
