A common squatting experience: discovering one's objects in new unexpected surroundings. Objects seem to circulate in a chaotic way, following some very complex mathematical patterns yet to be discovered. Objects are lost, given away in free-parties, left behind in evicted houses locked behind sitex doors, in the confusion of hasty evictions. Only to resurface somewhere completely different, to be re-claimed or renounced again. Like K's beautiful red-handles nail-puller, which disappeared during the opening of Poplar. For a while then she searched for it, I even went up to the attics to see if it was there. Then, two evictions and 12 months later, I found it in P's tool-bag at the Villas. When I gave it back to her, she wasn't surprised for one bit.
Here, in number 19, I found: (1) my wooly red vest, which I was so happy to get rid off (2) Iranian garlic pickle, purchased in Marakesh (the shop on Walworth road) (3) cut images from a wedding greeting card I bought 4 years ago, in Bath.
The first two were ours untill the free party two months ago, and finding them again is disappointing, like a game of chess. (Give away: chess. Find them again: chessmate, you lose)
But as for the third, I have no idea how they got here.
previous musings on lost and found.
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