7.30 am: I departed Aberystwyth on the first leg of my journey to Newport, Gwent. The landscape was raked by a frosted sunlight. A brittle air. Sharply defined contours. A thin reflective vapour lifted off the water. Fields glistened. Shadows stretched long. (The anticipation of a better and more intense world — the plains of Heaven.)  I was reminded of another place, another time – this world. (Was it approaching Christmas, then?) What I saw; what I remembered: seeped into one another.

9.15 am: It was unusually cold at Shrewsbury. I listened to John McLaughlin’s second solo album, Devotion (1970), on the second leg. Hendrix’s influence is evident. But JM, having been brought to the guitar through jazz, had a far greater command of melodic invention than H ever would:

11.15 am: Approaching Newport: ‘Oh, Clarence Place in my dreams!’:

An early check-in was possible at my usual stables in this parish. I had lunch and caught up on departmental business and with my general plan of action for the next few days.

1.00 pm: Off to >

Here, in 1981, that I began my study of art and Welsh Nonconformity. In those days, there wasn’t very much to read on the topic and, certainly, not much written since the end of the nineteenth century. There were very few readers today; the good weather that has prevailed in these parts over the past few days proved too enticing, perhaps.

5.00 pm: They chuck you out early here! I returned to my accommodation, freshened up, caught-up on mail, and headed over the road to for little Weatherspoonery. The waitresses hovered around my table, periodically asking whether ‘everything was alright’. This made me insecure about my meal.

7.00 pm: It’d been a long day. Once the evening’s trivial and the routine business had been dispatched, I listened to music and watched the town through the net curtain. In the background, I heard the whirr and draw of the trains as they pulled out of Newport station: