With constant change comes an attitude of abandon. Arm out-stretched ‘who gives a fuck?’freedom. Improvisation has always ruled in Dungeness, and the remnants of centuries of experiments mark the landscape. Marconi's tumbledown wireless shed housed research into radio-wave transmission in the 1890's. Thirty years later, the acoustic mirrors up the coast at Greatstone were prototyped as an early warning system to detect enemy aircraft. Since Derek Jarman's cottage has drawn a new focus, Dungeness has become an architectural laboratory with strict planning regulations to build on existing plots. One of the sparsest conversions is called Experimental Station, after its former use as a testing station for marine apparatus. "It reminds me of Marfa" said Jorge, and true that the flat expanses feel more like an artist's retreat in Texas than a Kent fishing community. But out here and isolated, people take on many roles and identities, and the loose ends start to tie together again. 

Nuclear power artists and photo-shy armed guards
Concrete meteorologists and escape architects
Pirate illustrators and fishing trawler politicians 

There are infinite stories to gather at Dungeness. The place is in itself an anthology. We picked up one thread to follow, and the rest remain there to be found...