This is Oxford's cycle-delivered, solar-powered stage which was today in Broad Meadow, the new name for Broad Street now that half of it has been filled with tubs of grass and flowers and seats blocking vehicle access. I had no idea this celebratory event was happening until a performance poet friend of mine (a four-year-old poem here, if you're up for the politics) contacted me last night to say he'd be on stage at 2pm. I briefly wandered over to find out about the horse in the background but when the second artist in a week tried to bombard me with details of his thinking and artworks and where I could go to admire them I retreated to the self-effacing poets dropping their papers and the singer-songwriters trying to control the shake in their hands. They entertained me for several hours but the audience could have been much bigger if publicity had been better. A shame.