More liminal space exploration, falker satherhood moments and vaporwave emotions

While looking for mosaic supplies, I encountered this, a Falker Satherhood moment in the wild! On a related note, it's lovely to see Cake Wrecks still going after all these years; it brought a lot of joy to me and my friends back in college. Also, it would be remiss of me not to mention this post, because the "ripe ass advocados" are pure gold - 10/10, no notes. I could absolutely imagine someone in the shop going "Damn, those are some ripe ass avocados!" 

In other news, I have set off on a mission to check out more of Stevia Sphere/Glaciaere's back catalogue, after stumbling upon You're My Toy, Literally; Pool Water Blue and Troubled but Hopeful a couple of years ago and absolutely loving them. In this endeavour, I've been giving each album some breathing room before checking out another one, giving each one my full attention and appreciation. At time of writing, Overflow is really delivering the goods; the whole EP is sublime but summer nights forgotten, summer nights remembered is a major highlight; it's dreamlike, emotional, and it's got satisfyingly crunchy chiptune beats - really, what more could you ask for? Listening to that song while wandering through the liminal spaces on the fringes of town with noone else around, in the stubbornly dense heat and the last light of day; fields and the river to one side, railway to the other; with the acrid smell of nettles, cow parsley and other ragged trackside plants; it was raw and just so cathartic. It feels up close and personal with those unmooring feelings of longing, inbetweenishness and rough edges.

Also, important to mention, the EP finishes with the sound of purring cats. Stunning, flawless, superb.

Continuing the theme of liminal spaces, today's offering is just behind Sovereign House; it's another one of those spots that I've walked past countless times and never gave it much thought, just decided to go and nose about out of curiosity, and it yielded treasures! Seriously, this is like a proper full-on textbook backstreet hideaway; unapologetically rough, ramshackle and chaotic. Let's have a gander! Heading behind the Bate Hall and across a small car park, we reach our destination, where wonders await...

 

Weathered, stocky little wooden steps welcome us into this tucked-away area.

Lovely corduroy glass blocks here and more of the jumbled mash of architecture from various eras that often comes up in these older parts of town.

Graff reportedly by Just Drop In and the Prince's Trust, and deliciously weathered brickwork at the far wall there.

 

Assorted debris, more ghost portals and a little walkway with brick stairs leading down by this pipe/duct/effort, to a curious ginnel - this place really does have everything!

On the way back out, we get a better look at these delightfullly piecemeal walls.

A bench beneath a sign warning us of danger of death. Much like the rug in The Big Lebowski, this really ties the place together.

Instructions unclear, parked under the no parking sign. (Also concertina doors, I like those.)

And in closing, here's something that looks like it says 'minge' if you pronounce it with a French accent.