Collections

 

Collections

When I walk I pick up things. It’s a habit, a deeply engrained one that is difficult to break. My home is full of many things which I have collected on my walks. These are as varied as my walks; one day it may include a beautiful feather from a magpie and another walk may include finding a super smooth small pebble. I write ‘include’, as I have never been able to just pick up one thing.

one collection on top of the piano

There are many which combine to become a visual reminder of the walk. I have collections of natural objects all over my house; they start off on flat surfaces, such as table tops and shelves, in groupings, as they were found, then over a period of time they may be put into a pot or other empty’ish’ vessel, still within the home. As time goes by I note that they get ‘tidied’ and they seem to seek the great outdoors again. There are many pots of found objects by the back doors of the house; they are gradually creeping into their natural habitat.

 

Older collection trying to escape back into the wild.

I do wonder what any archaeologist who may dig up our land in the future would make of it. Our garden is full of found fragments of pretty Victorian glass and crockery, which were discovered on a walk out at Conyer in the old dumps. Ok, not really just discovered on a path, but dug for with great enthusiasm. We also have wonderful piles of ammonites and fossilised ‘Devils Toenails’ from walks on the windswept Redcar beach, beautiful large pink and purple smooth pebbles from Dunster beach in Somerset, where we have had many wild windy walks and of course many, many special shells, pebbles and rocks from our own beaches, here on the Kent coast. Thinking about it, even our car has pockets full of the precious glittery finds that we picked up on our walks around Loch Sunart earlier this year.

Recording

One way that I thought I could restrain myself from bringing home so many things was to photograph what I see.

 

Found objects from walk on Seasalter beach.

But that has now just become another way of collecting. I collect views, landscapes, still lives of plants, the atmospheric effect of the seasons etc. So I have tried over the last week to just take just a few mementoes from the walks and photograph them when I come home. In doing so I hope that that will be enough of a visual reminder and I can move the pieces out sooner into the garden. But the fact of the matter is I love the things I choose on my walks. They speak to me of the season, the place and remind me of whom I was walking with or if I was alone. Once in the home they become even more beautiful or unusual as they are seen out of context. I see that they are no longer competing for my attention but being seen almost as art pieces.

My Dresser

I have a dresser that is full too. It has some useful crockery on it, but it is also full of things that I have found whilst out walking.

 

Detail of my dresser.

These walks take me into charity shops, junk shops, boot fairs etc. I used to feel pretty guilty about this collecting until I read a book by the artist Mark Hearld.

‘Mark Hearld’s Workbook’ charts his inspiration and is a collection of his wonderful work, so far. He lives in a house that makes mine look tame. He also has every surface covered in things, but refers to them as his inspiration.

My dresser with Mark Hearld's book on it showing his dresser...

In describing his work, Simon Martin writes that ‘he sees the act of collecting such items, at flea markets and junk shops, as creative, an activity akin to making a collage.’So I think perhaps my act of collecting, recording and displaying my walking treasures is also artistically acceptable and I could perhaps even become proud of it!

Inspiring Environments

Last Friday I went on a workshop held in Kings Wood, near Ashford in Kent, run by Stour Valley Arts. It was titled ‘Inspiring Environments’ and was run to encourage group leaders to use the natural setting of Kings Wood as a classroom in which people could be inspired to create artwork together and therefore positively engage with each other.

 

Found objects from Kings Wood.

We were given a demonstration by a couple of artists on how a number of useful tools could be used, encouraged to explore the area we were to make our art in and then started collecting useful things to create our own artwork. We worked in small groups and by lunchtime all of us had created wonderful large art works in the wood. They were all very different, but all had a story to go with them. It seemed that the imagination was inspired by the very act of creation. My group collected feathers, twigs, silvered with fungi and dried bluebell stalks. We found a natural depression in the ground and created a nest like structure that we then put fir cones in and a random bright red gladioli flower that we found on the ground. It had its own story, but I am sure you can make one up yourself that would be just as interesting.

Nature Connection

Over the weekend I went with my family to the Permaculture Convergenge. It was a wonderful weekend. The food was great and we were surrounded by lovely like minded people.

Leaf, left on ground (not picked up and kept) at Gilwell Park.

One workshop that I attended was led by Klaudia van Gool. She encouraged us to take our shoes off and connect with nature. We stood barefoot in a large circle under the huge Oak at Gilwell Park and became mindful of ourselves, the ground beneath our feet, the roots of the tree under them and the canopy of leaves above our heads. We learnt how to see with ‘owl’ eyes, hear with ‘deer’ ears and walk barefoot like ‘fox’. It was a beautiful educational and meditative experience. For once I was actually being animal, being not doing. I have planned a barefoot walk with a friend early next week. I shall practice these experiential nature connections while walking and see just how much difference it can make, perhaps I will be fully sated by this and not be tempted to pick up things and bring them home, or record the journey in photographs. As the walking artist Hamish Fulton has said about his work, ‘The walk is the work.’

Physical nature connection, spiders webs this morning.

 

(I completed my MA last September and recorded the last two months of it in another blog called www.thesaltwayfarer.blogspot.co.uk

Please feel free to look at that anytime, as it is from that, that I am where I am now.)

Timely Walks

Timely Walks

Over the last couple of days it has become apparent to me that how we walk and at what time we walk are two very important factors in connecting people to place.
 

Walking with friends.

With ever increasing traumatic events happening in the world and feeling terribly helpless to do anything, I have found solace in connecting to the natural world through walking. Recognising just how privileged I am to be able to experience real peace in my life, I have embraced the simple act of walking out along age old paths and viewing the simplicity and sheer golden beauty of the sun setting and the voluptuous full moon rising.

A 'SunDog' overhead yesterday.

We are approaching the Autumn Equinox, where the day and nights are of equal length. It is a time of balance, as the nights will soon get longer and the daylight hours lessen. It has been wonderful to experience watching a ‘Super-moon’ rise majestically from behind houses onshore as we stood out at sea watching the sun go down over the Isle of Sheppey.

Sun setting over the Isle of Sheppey.

We were standing, once again, on The Street, a natural bank of shingle that projects out into the sea at low tide and is exposed enough to allow people to walk up it, as if it was a street.
 

The Street at low tide.

I have written about the Street numerous times in this blog and the preceding one. www.thesaltwayfarer.blogspot.co.uk

Seasonal Celebrations

I guess I am quite fascinated by The Street, but I am not the only one, for a start, it has its own review page on Tripadvisor! I often get a call from a close friend to say she is going to be there for the sunset and would I like to join her? The walk out to the end of the Street is always wonderful; it feels quite magical to be so far out ‘in’ the sea, looking back at the shore in the distance.

The Street, looking onto shore, from the sea.

At these times of significant sun sets and moon risings, the atmosphere of the place changes. The sky and sea to the West of the Street glow; the opposite happens on the eastern side. It is all hues of blue; even purple in places, it is quite wonderful to see.

The sky and sea glowing to the West.

Cool blue tones can be seen as the moon rises.

It surprises me how people seem to be drawn to it at low tide and start the long walk out to the end. It is often very chilly out there, especially at Imbolc, in February.

At the end of the Street, looking further out to sea.

The other evening was exactly the right time to stand upon it, listening to the seagulls flying overhead, the water lapping on each side and observe the spectacle that happens at specific times throughout the year and has probably always been noted, as long as humans have been able to walk out onto it.

Barefoot Walking

I have read about this walking practice in the past and listened to a very good ‘Ramblings’ episode on Radio Four with Claire Balding a while ago, in which she shared a walk with a man who walked everywhere in this way.  The worry of walking onto something sharp or foul has always put me off doing this anywhere else than in  my garden, but a couple of days ago I gave it a proper try in Victory Wood. The wood is young and the paths are lush with clover and grass. I took off my sandals and sank my bare feet in the green. To start with I looked down and noted all the hazards I could see and avoided them; brambles, dog/fox poo etc. then I got bored of looking down and looked up  more, ahead and was surprised at just how comfortable it was. My feet could feet the contour of the ground underfoot and the depth and texture of the vegetation I was walking on. My walking companion pointed out just how quiet it was. There was no more rhythmic pace of the sole of the shoe on the ground. It was almost silent. Hunting barefoot must have been the only way to approach an animal quietly. I am going to try and walk barefoot more on different terrains and see just what it can do to increase my awareness during a walk. I walked up the same section of the path barefoot last night in the dark; we had gone out to watch the sun set and the full moon rise from a brow of a hill overlooking the Thames Estuary and Whitstable.
 

Seeing the sea from the brow of the hill.

The feel of the ground under my feet last night was so different. The fear of what I could step in was gone; it was too dark to look. I walked confidently and looked ahead, seeing the profile of the hill in silhouette above me.

walking barefoot

My feet could feel the wet dewy grass and clover. It was so cold. My insteps were curved around the earth, pushing uphill and they felt frozen. It was a relief to put my sandals back on, and again, I noted the change in noise, from almost silent to a ‘flapping’ beat. It seems I walk differently when barefoot. The foot rolls onto the ground in a graceful move, rather than an abrupt flat motion.
 

Looking towards Hernehill.

Looking out to sea.

To walk mindfully, barefoot, along an ancient path will be one experience I will try to have before the seasons shift a bit more and the cold weather comes.

 (I completed my MA last September and recorded the last two months of it in another blog called www.thesaltwayfarer.blogspot.co.uk

Please feel free to look at that anytime, as it is from that, that I am where I am now.)

Folkestone Triennial

Folkestone Triennial

Last weekend we ventured out to Folkestone to visit the Triennial to see the other half of Krijn de Konings work, Dwelling.

 

A very different experience, in a very different setting.

As expected the deliberate choice of setting made for an altogether different experience when walking in it. 

 

The installation was in the artificial rock-face.

Last week and in the last blog post I had explained that its twin installation outside at the Turner Contemporary, Margate, reminded me of a lido, with its colourful panels.

 

Margates' colourful, bright, open space.

But here on the cliff face in an artificial cave. It looked so different. It felt strange to enter the space with overhanging rocks overhead creating an eerie, claustrophobic environment.

 

From inside looking out, accidentally blurred, but how it made me feel!

The panels were cut to meet the uneven rock faces and the colours were obviously duller inside the cave.

We didn’t linger. 

 

Rocks, as seen through the frame.

Left

One very pleasant aspect of the Triennial is the work that has been left in Folkestone from the two previous events, in 2008 and 2011. It has created a lasting legacy for the town. Two of these pieces in particular caught my eye.

The bell, hung above the old trace of the Rotunda building

The first was a bell hung on a wire 20m up in the air on the site of the old Rotunda funfair building. This work was created for the 2011 Triennial by AK Dolven. I have many memories of this place that no longer exists. My Grandma used to have a holiday caravan in nearby Capel-le-Ferne when I was young, so we used to visit Folkestone area a lot and on special occasions we used to visit the funfair that stood at the bottom of the cliffs. It was an incredibly exciting place to be as a child. Now it has all been demolished and it looks bare. There are traces of its past on the ground and in surrounding grand buildings. But for me the bell, ‘Out of Tune’, stood as a poignant and sad reminder of all that was gone.

Fun Funicular

The Victorian Funicular was a grand invention. Along with the engineering required to produce seaside piers it allowed people to explore exciting elevations and travel in new ways.

At the top...

Folkestone still has its own in working order. The technology is simple. Two cars, one above and one below are attached to a rope and have each a large tank under them. One tank at the top of the lift is filled with water and therefore becomes heavier than the lower one, the brake is released and the car descends on the track and as they are connected, this enables the lower car to rise up the steep incline.

 

Water filling up the top tank.

When the heavier car reaches the bottom, the water is released into the lower reservoir and so it goes on. It opened in 1885 and after Victoria pier opened in 1888, a second lift was built as it was so popular. Today it is a grand way to access the lower cliff and the now desolate beach.

Whithervanes

These were another of this years art pieces that are worth a mention. I have always loved looking up at clouds, birds, trees, architecture etc. and in doing so I have been intrigued by weathervanes as long as I remember.

An intriguing Whithervane.

The artists ‘rootoftwo’ have created a series of Whithervanes across Folkestone which ‘Track the orchestration of fear in real time by monitoring internet newsfeeds for alarmist keywords, revolving away from the geographic origin of each story’. I like this idea.

Destination

Back home, walking in nature, the true depth of the art surprised me. It could be seen as flippant, superficial and a waste of money by some people. But, the whole point of art is to make people think isn’t it? The Triennial made me and many others visit Folkestone, it was our chosen destination for that day and the event is on until November the 2^nd. So many more people will be encouraged to go and explore the art and its surroundings; it will bring people to the place and create new memories and connections to it. That is good for the economy and the general feel of an area.

Pablo Bronstein, 'Beach hut in the style of Nicholas Hawksmoor'.

Next week sees the start of Canterbury’s Wise Word festival, again, this encourages interaction with people and place, creating shared experiences and enjoyable times. By then I should have had some clear time to plan my next move forward with People-to-Place. Fingers crossed.

 (I completed my MA last September and recorded the last two months of it in another blog called www.thesaltwayfarer.blogspot.co.uk

Please feel free to look at that anytime, as it is from that, that I am where I am now.)