by Kelvin Smith
Finding what’s there to discover, rediscover, invest and reinvest with meaning, using charts and maps, wayside signs, nameplates, travellers’ tales and mealtime gossip; wisdom of old voyagers and the boasting of youthful buccaneers. Those not wanting to be found might hide away, or walk openly under a schlemiel’s pointed magic hat, while others, shyly eager for intercourse and audience, may languish, unable to project across the crowded continents and cresting oceans.
Without the scuttlebutt of busybodies, the denizens of the entrepôt will be unaware. With always another scandal to intrigue, the memories of a bookish byway can be flattened, outglared by other mundane flashes-in-the-pan.