Long day. Left at 10am for the train, which was ten minutes late. Arrived in Euston at about 1pm and set up our table. Nicole, the Virgin Team Leader, was really nice and helpful, and come to think of it, most of my experiences of ever doing things, as an artist, with Virgin Trains has been really good, with friendly, supporting, and efficient staff.
The stall looked as good as it had before, with better signage, but it was difficult to engage with the passengers who were often busy, rushing, generally prone to ignoring stalls, but we (well, mostly Deb) spoke to several nice peripatetic aficionados of art, writing, poetry. Deb sold two Testing the Delicates and a Rattenfanger, and a joint Fall in Green CD. I sold a copy of Songs of Life, and metaphorically kicked myself for making a mistake on the sub totals; a calculator would be useful.
Bought some food and left, the train again ten minutes late. Overall we lost money on our 370-mile round trip, but we were warm and met some nice people; although I generally didn't say much. Perhaps I'm a little out of practice at human interaction these days, feeling often at the moment like I did in 2007 or so when Andrew Williams was my only friend, by email or pen. Art must be in phases, in, out. Each has advantages and disadvantages. I find I'm often happier the more I withdraw and the less I interact with people, although we have different moods, different personalities that become dominant. Perhaps, I hypothesized recently, our cells club together to form different creatures, each talking to another; the voices in our heads must necessarily be one fraction of our self communicating with another.
