Marking the Place


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.


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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