Back at Islington Mill, years after having a studio there, and finding bits of the old life still hanging on. One of my geometric pieces still up in a window frame on the brick, an I Am Enough poster stuck by a doorway, and a hand-painted Martin Creed board propped on a pile of rubble as the place gets worked on and changed.
Ten years of my life happened in that building, so going back is never neutral. The Mill is always half building site, always becoming the next thing, and it is strange and good to see your old work weathering on somewhere that has moved on without you. Some of it is still there, doing its quiet thing on a wall.
See also Islington Mill.