Marking the Place

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Soft winter sun. After the storms of the last few days, there is suddenly no wind. Down through the muddy woodland path to the river. This landscape is still a little unfamiliar to me: the way the trees and undergrowth grow right to the cliff edge – the overhanging creepers and plants – the vertically layered shaley rock – soft light, distant sand dunes, and a curlew over open water.

northamrock-030_w.jpgI explore tangled root systems, undermined and exposed where soil has been eroded from the cliff face.

I think about every place on earth being so intensely specific.

I think about landscapes I have known and wandered, and how, over time, they became a permanent part of myself. Or was it the other way round?

I only feel lightly bonded with this place. It is a delightful place to be on a quiet winter morning, but I cannot feel it in my bones, in my existential gut.

I mark out a circle on the rock face with gold foil lametta (angel hair). I have connected myself. The circle shines brilliant gold, dazzling my eyes in the sunshine, and I feel power.

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About throughstones

I am primarily a visual artist, living on the North Devon coast, a beautiful semi-rural area in South West England. I am interested in full engagement with 'place' and the eternal movement of life - particularly as it relates to what we call 'the natural environment'.
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