The Vermont Sugar House

Have you ever...

• ...driven through the barren, sprawling, gas station landscapes of Hopper. like Kowalski gunning up the Dodge and heading towards the Vanishing Point?
• ...been as low as Sylvia, taping round the doors in a cold London flat in the depths of a dark embittered winter, holding in her hands the Bible of Dreams?
• ...wished you were Macca, driving the Aston Martin out of London and into the English countryside, out to Winston's to write the songs that would sound fresh 35 years later?
• ...thrilled to the jangling Rickenbackers of the Byrds or the one note beauty of Brian Jones' Vox Teardrop?
• ...stood in an English municipal park on a cold autumn afternoon. imagining a game of mock tennis with Antonioni?
• ...yearned to be in the hard to believe it world of Joe Meek, stomping on the ceiling above a leather goods shop in Holloway Rd?
• ...walked out one midsummer morning down to Peter Blount's house with its round stained glass window?
• ......wanted to be Laurence Harvey, a dandy in aspic if ever there was one, or Julie Christie, with a beauty oh so disarming, eating French loaves and drinking cheap red wine in a contemporary second floor flat?
• ...dreamed of taking the wheel of the Ford Mustang as it speeds to Deauville and into eternity?
• ...fantasized about a game of foot volley on the Copacabana - Garrincha and Puskas on one side, young Georgie and Tom Finney on the other - sunblock anyone?