There is something very satisfying about seeing the face, hearing the voice when all previous contact has been , shall we say, ethereal.
Yesterday, I met Angela and Abi in London (I'm staying on the southern fringe) and we took in a couple of exhibitions at the Hayward, sloshed through puddles and wound up our afternoon with restorative glass at a handy pub.
The conversation? Well, books, of course! And we touched on the folly of library closures, the somewhat rigid view some folk have of artist books, the long-distance companionship of collaborations like ours. Politics may have entered into it, but I'll leave that out for the moment!
And suddenly it was time catch our various chariots. A nice young tourist chap obliged with a picture...