Perspectives

Perspectives

I thought this week I could write about perspectives, how we view something from another place. I was going to walk in a familiar place but come at it from a different direction.

Seasalter beach looking East.

I thought that Seasalter beach would give me the opportunity to walk out towards the sea on the vast expanse of mussel beds and muddy shingle, not skirting the coast but striding out, northwards, towards the Isle of Sheppey.

 

Seasalter Beach heading West.

But, I hadn’t taken account of what the tide was doing. It was fully in and on the turn but going out very slowly due to the ferocious chilly wind blowing in from the heavy grey expanse of sky to our North.

Birds perching out at sea

So the perspective of the walk that I was looking forward to, one of contemplation, with a feeling of possession, looking inland from out on the mussel beds, didn’t happen. I could have checked my tide table, it is an essential tool in the summer months to know when I can easily either swim in the sea or go out on the mud, looking for fossils or clay to make pots etc. But I didn’t, I don’t tend to look at it so much as the weather gets colder, so instead we had went around the coast again, towards Faversham, walking close against the seawall, watching the brown rough waves slop onto the exposed thin strip of beach.

Timber, old, exposed and weathered.

We didn’t see any Brent Geese, I should think they have ventured further up the coast, towards the Thames estuary; they will be more protected there for the coming wintery months ahead.

Weathered detail of timber.

Looking at a familiar place from a different perspective could be seen as a metaphor for life itself. We all have our favourite, tried and tested routes, ways to do something which we are comfortable with and familiar, but it can be liberating to go against the flow and walk in another direction.

 

Seeing the familiar, close up.

This is what creativity thrives on, as seeing the familiar from another place can spark a curiosity that feeds and nurtures an open creative mind. 

Light

 As we approach the shortest day of the year, the 21^st of December, I am reminded how much I love sunlight, especially this precious low glow of sun that can be enjoyed now.

Brilliant dazzling sunlight on a clear December day.

A couple of weekends ago I went to a day long event held in a friend’s studio. We had lunch outside and basked in the sun, which now holds just a little warmth.

 

Sunlit exterior space.

But it is the sunlight itself that we all enjoyed, the brightness, the way it made the colours of the remaining summer flowers deeply glow.

Beautiful Geranium flower, glowing in the sun.

That is how I feel in this precious sun, I feel I glow, it illuminates me, it lifts my soul and I feel good. As the day progressed it quickly became more evident in the studio that the daylight was waning and we appreciated the low glow of the candles which were lit.

The candles glowed more brightly as the day became darker.

Every year I try to spend at least one evening around this time, just in candlelight. I think it will be romantic, festive and allow me to go to bed early! But every year, I realise that the reality is that I still need those dark hours illuminated by electric light to do all the chores that need doing such as cooking, clearing up, homework etc.

 

'Bunny Ears' capturing the setting sun on their soft surfaces.

Our lives are regulated not by the natural timely element of daylight hours but by the invention of clocks, electric light and routine. We tend to have a daily routine that overrides the seasonal changes taking place. We must be the only animal on the planet that actively works against seasonal changes that are happening. The Brent Geese that I had seen at Seasalter and on Whitstable beach earlier in the season had known it was time to fly 2500 miles from Siberia to our warmer shores. My bantams will not start laying eggs until the daylight hours become longer again and the leaves will not start to grow on the trees until the sap rises in the spring.

 

Brilliant Spring Green foliage on the beach shingle, above the tide line.

Yet we carry on regardless. No wonder we feel exhausted.

Seasonal Experience

Walking and being outside as much as possible throughout the year does give me a healthy awareness of the changing of the seasons. I think we need this to understand where we are in the yearly cycle. As the days grow shorter I have really tried this year to take things a bit easier, to not push myself so much, to enjoy the moment, to just be. I see winter as a time for introspection, a time to contemplate the past year and reflect on its gifts.

Precious flowers.

I heard a wonderful quote last week which took the (self-induced) stress out of this season, which has already been taken over by the spirit of mass consumption. Black Friday, Cyber Monday etc, all these ‘shopping’ opportunities named and marketed at a fragile, recession hit population makes this quote even more relevant.

‘At this time of year it is your presence that is needed, not your presents.’

As I have to leave writing now to go and see my youngest son in a school production, this seems even more important. I have decided to spend my precious time before the children break up from school, meeting up and being with a lot of my favourite people as well as being outside and enjoying the season. Yes, there will be presents, but there will also be a lot of presence. 

View from inland, looking towards Seasalter Beach, a different perspective.

 

 (I completed my MA in September 2014 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.)

Reading and Writing

Reading and Writing

‘To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June’, Jean-Paul Satre

This quote is the one I tried to find a few blog entries ago and even wrongly merited it to Yeats. But in researching the author of this quote I came across many other inspirational words, poems, stories and lyrics. So that was good. 

Seasalter beach, looking East with stormy sky.

Sinky mud, leaking wellies.

   

Ironically, in setting up my walking project, I have done less walking, but more reading and writing than I had ever expected to. I think this may be due to existing time commitments, but I must admit it is also due to the fear of walking alone in the countryside.

Walking with others and their dogs is a lovely option.

Living by the sea, here in Whitstable, I am very fortunate to be able to walk along the concrete promenade that edges the coast, built as part of the sea defence which stretches from Seasalter to Ramsgate.

Walking with company.

It is often busy with other people, especially dog walkers, so it mostly feels very safe to walk alone along the coast. But when it comes to walking along a country lane, footpath or through woods by myself, I feel a sense of anxiety. I think it would be good for me to acknowledge this and work out what I could do to feel more confident,  because if I feel this way, I am certain that I am not the only female feeling this anxiety when walking alone.

 

Really stormy skies over Whitstable.

I wonder whether this could become part of the art project that Arlette George and I have now decided we will do together, to explore human movement in the landscape. We will look for funding to create a project that will link two far away places in the UK: the Ardnamurchan Penisular in Scotland and Kent in England. Both areas have a large coastline and lie at the furthest geographical Westerly and Easterly points of the UK.

It's amazing what inspiration can come from just looking closely.

So, in my mind, to create a dynamic between these places and between the land and our bodies through the exploration of movement would be great. I don’t know how the project will look at the moment. That in itself would be part of the inquiry. How to articulate the project and create something of worth that could be discovered and used to inform the walking project ‘People-to-Place’ would be just one outcome. I would hope that the project in itself would lead us to other less prejudiced conclusions too.

Seaweed awaiting the tide to come in.

The Landscape as Metaphor

I attended an inspiring workshop on Saturday, it was held at the Beaney Institute in Canterbury and led by Mary Reynolds Thompson.

‘Reclaiming the Wild Soul’, turned out to be the perfect antidote to the last weekends' disappointment. From the start we were given a warm welcome and an appreciation of how we could expect to spend our valuable time. It was made clear what was to be the subject of our inquiry and guidelines were given so that we were able to understand the expectations of our group work such as confidentially, emotional responses and sharing.

A close up of the top of a groyne. A mini landscape.

After such a disappointing and traumatic workshop held the previous weekend by the UCA in Margate, this clarity and recognition of us as individuals was most welcome. Mary led the workshop with great integrity and generosity.

Mary lives in California and so it was a great opportunity to participate in, I think, her only workshop this year on our soil.

We wrote about archetypal landscapes, such as deserts, forests and oceans and rivers. These formed short texts, poems and more. In exploring the landscapes and in our thoughts how we feel about them, we are able to tap into a deeper wisdom. The other participants at the workshop were a great group, fully engaged and inspired by the idea of the landscape as metaphor and I really enjoyed their company. We all seemed to create beautiful writing.

‘When we connect to the wild we discover within ourselves the insight of the poets, the power of the shamans, and an unbridled passion for our precious earth. The wild exists in us and around us. Enter it and you transform the way you live, work, create and dream.’ 

Mary Reynolds Thompson.

She has written two books on this subject and holds many events. I urge anyone with an interest to look her and her work up. It is inspiring and deep.

Daily Practice

Here is a small snippet of a longer written piece, my response to a poem by Mary Oliver that I had been asked me to read. The poem was very apt. A couple of questions prompted me to think about ‘How is paying attention to the world a kind of prayer?’ and ‘How does this poem make you re-examine your own ‘wild and precious life?’

‘My wild and precious life; my luck to be here,

Right now, to feel connected, engaged and open.

Appreciation of it all is my prayer; I try to remain devout in prayer; even on the greyest day there may be a rainbow somewhere, a raindrop with all the colours within.’ 

Clare Jackson

I listened to a wonderful radio play years and years ago called ‘Spoonface Steinburg’, it was written by Lee Hall and broadcast as a monologue on BBC Radio 4 in 1997. The music is amazing, with excerpts from operas, sung by Maria Callas. But the part of me it touched and was able to be eloquently put was her understanding of what it was to be alive. How she recognised that everyday actions that we take can all be seen as prayers. I recommend listening to it, I will do so, soon.

It was with excitement that I realised that my painting ‘My Path’ is on this weeks page in the ‘Earth Pathways’ diary.

'My Path', on this weeks' diary page spread.

I feel quite proud to see it there and very pleased that it has been put with a poem by Simon Sawyer called ‘Dream Song’ which I feel really resonates with it.

‘Out of the earth came wind, and out of the

 air came sun, out of the rock came water.

Where they met, spirit grew,

And trees were born,

The trees dreamed of birds,

The birds dreamed of song, the song yearned

To love, and the love grew strong.’ 

Simon Sawyer. 2012

Every day I complete my ‘Morning pages’, a few pages of writing recommended as a creative tool in Julia Camerons’ wonderful book ‘The Artists Way’. I see this as my daily practice, this and appreciating what it is, to be.

(I completed my MA in September 2014 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.)