The fellow traveller was the colours of the road.  All their clothes and accessories had a hint of Northumbria which told the story of a route well travelled. I found myself the other side of a potential conversation but hesitatent to avoid that possibility of discomfort.

I could sense myself being evaluated in a similar way. 

Say something about the weather. Then an affirmative reply that wasn’t too off kilter. This was a lone walker of the Pennines who had reached Kirk Yetholm early and decided to explore some of Hadrian’s Wall.  I knew I sounded surprised but the explanation of their return to Lancaster clarified the logic of their route.

I could compare my ancient journey on a similar route and notice that the equipment hasn’t changed much. Lightweight tent. Roll of compressed foam. Mini sleeping bag. Nothing loose to carry. We smiled as we parted company. A shared experience 40 years apart. Human to human.

Then I’m in Gateshead. On stage is a small sound booth; inside it sits a woman The Talent., Gemma - Alone. She is a voice-over artist. 

Off stage, in a space never seen but only heard, two disembodied voices ask her to conjure different voices for commercials, self-help audiobooks, meditation tapes, destination announcements, computer games, robotic tele scripts. She is top of her game.

But is she the powerful protagonist in her own narrative, building her's and our own reality - or is her voice being used to construct something more complicated? An audio debris, a vocal soup that, in a post-apocalyptic world, will continue to be heard for as long as there is electricity.

Like my chance encounter on the road, this Talent is s voice and human presence in the 21st Century. Where does the voice live? How will her voice live on, outside her body, if it can take on a life of its own? 

The Talent makes us consider the place of human voice in an increasingly cybernetic future.