When I arrived in Barmouth a number of people asked whether I would be walking back to Aberystwyth. 'Of course not' I thought, and said. It's not that I couldn't see the logic in this proposition, it was more that the thought of retracing my steps filled me with dread. That same journey that had been filled with so much adventure because of the motivation provided by the destination and the Barmouth show were gone. Places of concrete experience had been created, and that was of course the purpose, but somehow it seemed too soon to go back to them. Memory and time need to operate together for a while before I will feel the lure to retrace those steps. In either direction, except possibly mentally, through film or through performance.