I am wandering through ruins in St Thomas, Exeter, taking photos of the buildings.
Two people are following me. I divert into a health shop, hoping to lose them. In the shop, I order a coffee and a flapjack. As I wait, the shop fills with people, they are going on a guided tour of Ashwood Road. Apparently it has a lot of history.
I join the guided tour, chatting to people about choirs and vocal range. We pass by statues. I see a tattoo parlour and enter. A woman in a mask recommended it to me.
I see an empty room with old furniture. I’m not sure what to get. I think of covering my existing tattoos, or getting my socks tattooed on my legs.
The tattooist arrives. He is tall and smartly dressed. I shake his hand, a Masonic grip, the woman in the mask introduces him as “The Big Deal”.
He understands that I need time to think, and suggests a coffee while I browse designs. I am worried about bleeding too much, as I take drugs for my blood pressure.
The scene changes. I am dressed as a Zen monk. Alan Watts is teaching me Zazen. I can’t sit properly, I’m too inflexible. He explains it will take time.
Many small steps.