It was the late afternoon and we had stopped off at a motorway station on our way back from two days in Liverpool for a coffee. We were in the outside garden, sprawled out on plastic chairs, the tranquillity of our mood not disturbed by the cars speeding by on the motorway behind the thin veneer of trees. I looked across the table at Andy Firth and then Andy Moss. Mr Firth was sat back with his eyes closed and face raised to the sky, his café latte in hand and mouth moving ever so slightly as he savoured the taste of it. Mr Moss with his long black hair and moustache wore a downward gaze and cradled his French style long espresso; reminiscent of a holiday in Paris. The thing that struck me so profoundly as I sat there watching them both was that here were two people dressed in the robes of utter contentment. A peace within that needs no words or grand gestures, just a very comfortable silence that had been so well deserved.
This moment of serenity had come by collaborating with two Liverpool Schools and sharing with them a day drawing in the sand on the great beach of Crosby surrounded by the ubiquitous sculptures of Antony Gormley. These schools were Calderstones and Holly Lodge respectively, full of kids with charisma who like a small army of ants swept onto this huge beach and made two most wonderful pieces of art. I thank them for their efforts and two great days spent on the beach with them. I hope they didn’t ache too much afterwards.
Also, thanks to the lovely Kathy Haywood who with great spirit marched us on and adorned the every so grateful Mr Moss with his Mexican sombrero with pink decoration; he will treasure it always. And thanks to the chaps from River Media who were undaunted by the challenges of the scissor lift and were so patient with our bizarre choreography. I look forward to seeing the films.