Watched Richard Linklater’s ‘Waking Life’ on the laptop on an evening train from Euston to Liverpool tonight. I’d seen it before so I knew broadly what to expect and let the animated talking heads undulate and philosophise as my eyes drifted from the screen to the views out of the window, and back again. The train was quiet and the landscape seemed to empty out into the long summer’s evening. I fell into some kind of hinterland between wakefulness and dreaming. A sense of possibility, of unknowing. A welcome interlude. Just as the train was pulling into Liverpool Lime St the film ended.
Waking life
Enchanted Isle 