Space to breathe.

I find that living in this part of the UK has many benefits but sometimes it is wonderful to take a break and venture further out and into the wilds of our country, so in early August we took a break from our familiar surroundings to have a family holiday and headed North. Stopping at a few places on the way up, we were quickly surprised at the space available to us, both the physical environment and in our own head-space.

Image from  'Of House and Home' exhibition at YSP by Alice Pattullo.

Kent is undoubtedly a busy and in some areas, an overcrowded region of the UK. It is close to the continent and London, which makes it impossible to ignore or be unaware of the bigger picture of the world. This, at the present moment is quite an unsettling one, so it was great to get away.

We left early and watched the sun rise as we travelled up north, stopping regularly to both stretch our legs and find our bearings. One stop at Wakefield took us to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park where we and many others walked around the acres of beautiful countryside enjoying the wonderful sculptures, using them as landmarks to navigate the terrain. I had not seen Henry Moore sculptures outside a gallery space before but knew he had made them for this environment, not galleries or other domestic settings and so for me it was a revelation to see them at last in context.

YSP, Henry Moore galore!

James Turrell, an artist that I had researched whilst studying for my MA also had a piece of work in the park. He creates physical spaces that encourage observation of the sky. They are called Skyspaces and the one in Wakefield was one of two that we visited on our trip. Looking at the blurb for YSP it seems they also use it for many special events throughout the year, such as sound-bath meditation and sunrise and sunset observations. I will certainly plan a visit to incorporate this in the not too distant future.

Deer shelter Skyspace.

We all entered the Deershelter Skyspace quietly and once sat on the concrete benches that surround the inside of the chamber, we sat in silence and wonder at the simplicity of it all. Certainly space to breathe, with space to think and watch the clouds slowly scud across the view from the square aperture.

Entering the Kielder Skyspace.

The following week at Kielder Observatory we discovered another of his Skyspaces and entered with a more excited sense of what we thought we would discover. This time the aperture was circular and captured both the glow of the setting sun and the concentration of space directly above us.

Circular view.

Later that evening we saw the (almost) full moon through huge telescopes and were shown planets, stars and their constellations. We drank hot chocolate and wondered what we could see from the Skyspace now. Kielder Observatory is located in Europe’s largest expanse of dark sky, so even when the sun has one down there is plenty to see. So much to see in fact that you go giddy with it all.

Moon photo taken by my mobile phone via a telescope lens.

We ventured to Kelso in Scotland to see an extraordinary set of three art installations by Steve Messam, set in the grounds of Mellerstain House. These were inflatable structures that 'explore their sense of space, presence and place'. Again they acted as points to navigate to, encouraging exploration and discovery. The inflatable spheres on the ornamental lake certainly stayed with me as an image. I think they really summed up our holiday. A series of circular objects that encapsulated what we really needed; space to breathe.

Sculpture by Steve Messam.

I will be opening the doors of my beautiful straw bale studio once again this year to exhibit my own and Alison Lees work as part of the Canterbury Festival, the theme is still 'The Spirit of Place' as it is an ongoing art project based in Kent.

You can keep up to date with our explorations and discoveries by looking at www.facebook.com/EastKentSpiritOfPlace

Open times are 11-5 daily on the weekends from 14-29^th of October. We can be found at house number 25 on the Whitstable trail. Please see the webpage www.ekoh.org.uk for more information.

 I can be contacted on 07432679164 or clare@people-to-place.co.uk

Walking Freely

Walking Freely.

There is often a choice that needs to be taken. Whether we choose to walk or drive is just one of those choices. Which road or path to take is another.

Road, pavement or footpath?

There is a well known poem by Robert Frost, written in 1916, it ends with this revelation.  I haven’t studied this poem, so I don’t know if it has deeper significant meanings, it may well do as it was written in the middle of the First World War, but I like its simplicity and his understanding of choice.

‘Two roads diverged in wood, and I- I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference.’ Robert Frost

 

Two paths diverging, Sharsted Court. Newnham, Kent.

Walking frees you up. I can remember, whilst learning to drive many years ago that I found I had difficultly in navigating my familiar surroundings. I had to add another layer to my mental map of the place that I knew. It wasn’t just the increased speed of travel that threw me; it was a combination of things.

There were one way streets, dual carriageways and tricky spots, such as steep hills that I would try to avoid, in case I had to do a hill-start.

An upended old boundary stone, with beautiful hand-carved letter.

Walking around my local area was far freer. I could walk where I liked. I used alleyways a lot to cut through between roads, sneaking a peek into other people’s lives via their gardens. I walked over pedestrian bridges, noticing the contrast of the speeding traffic below and my more leisurely and slower gait.

Our shadows are evidence of being out in nature.

When I chose to drive I would find myself unable to observe as much as I was used to. I missed finer details of seasonal change and the heightened awareness that comes from being outside and being able to experience your surroundings with all senses.

The Spell of the Sensuous

This is the title of one of the most insightful books that I dipped into whilst studying for my Masters. I say dipped into, as I will admit I haven’t read it (yet) cover to cover, but like many other wonderful books it is so full of teachings that these momentary immersions can give powerful insights. It was written by David Abram in 1996 and explores the connection between the landscape and the human, ‘suggesting language as one of the factors responsible for humanity’s sensorial disassociation from nature.’

Walking through the seasons.

When I think back to the earlier mentioned days of driving, I think it was a disassociation from the actual experience of being in the environment, in nature that I missed when navigating familiar routes.

 

Walking in the woods, in Springtime.

Being contained within a car and moving at speed stopped me being aware of the actual place I was traveling through. I was in my own ‘bubble’, a man-made environment that I inhabited, along with specific possessions that I needed for the journey, such as music tapes, sunglasses and maps.

Had I been walking, I would have employed all senses; the pace of the walk would have allowed me to hear sounds such as traffic, birdsong and voices. I would even have been aware of subtle scents in the air. Walking allows us to inhabit the space fully.

A Woodland Walk

As I walked out in to the bright sunshine, last Thursday with my sister in her local woodland, we went along a path that we often use.

Taking a familiar path...

Snowdrops were looking small and precious amongst the brown fallen autumn leaves on the edge of the wood.

 

Snowdrops.

Bluebell leaves were starting to poke through deeper leaf litter further along the path and the emerging spiky shoots of Wild Garlic edged the muddy path.

Bluebell shoots poking through the fallen leaves.

We could smell fox, leaf mould and pine in some areas. The wind blew coldly on us as we approached the edge of the estate.

Looking from the woods toward Doddington Estate.

Here we stood and looked back into the wood and saw the sunlight bright and raw, shine onto tree bark, woodland floor and fallen trees.

Bright sunlight on the tree bark showed up much detail.

The sky was a sharp blue and highlighted the detail of the tree canopy, which waved above us.

 

Looking up the tree we saw a squirrels dray, high up.

Being in nature literally made us stop and stare, there was so much to see and hear, birds singing, trees creaking etc, that I now understand even more that it is an immersive experience.

 

Colourful lichen.

This experience cannot be fully understood by those who do not choose or are unable to discover it for themselves.

This is why I am working on two projects at the moment. Both of these are collaborations with other artists. One is working with schools in Kent, encouraging local children to walk out and about into their environs. The other project similarly is about connecting people to place through walking, creating an immersive experience that will engage and inspire.

Being in the environment capturing moments of nature.

The actual form that these will take needs further development and funding, which is being sought at the moment.

Seeing reminders of past seasons, eg: sweet chestnut cases.

Personally, I am putting on a number of day workshops that will explore the themes of walking that I have been studying, exploring and writing about over the last 4 years or so. One is called appropriately, ‘Connecting People to Place’, the second is ‘Women, Walking and Wellbeing’, as I think there is a special place for women, walking in the environment, one which may have been overlooked for a long time.

Old fence posts and trunk, moss attached to both.

Beautiful ring of moss around young sapling.

So, my choice at the moment is to concentrate on these two projects and the two day courses, to encourage people out, to walk in the world and allow them to connect creatively with the place in which they inhabit.

Migration

Migration

World Migratory Bird Day was set up in 2006 by the United Nations. It was initiated to highlight and celebrate migratory birds and the phenomenon of bird migration. A friend told me about WMBD,about a year ago and showed me the marvellous posters that advertise it.

An image from the WMBD website.

We decided to work together on some ‘birdy/journey’ artwork that we could then exhibit and bring this event to the attention of a wider set of people. We thought we could make some sellable artwork too, as the posters were well designed and a marketing tie-in would help us all. Over time this led to another couple of artists joining us and we excitedly watched ‘Winged Migration’ together.

This clip is one of my favourite parts of the film, along with the eerily beautiful vocals from the ‘Le Mystere Des Voix Bulgares’.

It is called 'The Return of the Cranes’,

After watching the film, all of us more deeply appreciated the beauty and resilience of birds and the incredible journeys that they take, it  was staggering to realise that some birds fly for thousands of miles at heights of up to 3000 feet!

The Easterly direction from which the Brent Geese came.

We have continued to work together and I feel our artwork on display now, as part of the Canterbury Festival, reflects this wonder of birds, journeys, connectedness and resilience.

As I continued to work on my 'People-to-Place' project, I recognised that the bird/journey artwork was very relevant as I had, in my MA research touched upon human migration and the paths they took to move seasonally from one place to another. These routes were what I was now looking for in the environment, in my bid to reconnect people to the places that they live in. Native peoples would have been more aware of migrations as they had to be more connected to where they lived, for their very survival and so, observed and understood seasonal changes in their environment.  We may have lost that knowledge and understanding as we have ‘evolved’ as a species, but, birds and the sheer endurance required to complete their long migrations filled me with awe.

Brent Geese

On Monday this week, I went with a friend for a long walk along Seasalter beach.

Looking towards the Isle of Sheppey, Seasalter Beach.

As I was walking on the foreshore, I thought I could see the white tops of waves towards the estuary, all along the horizon. It was only when we got closer that we saw the white shapes were in fact white tails of numerous floating birds.

Brent Geese, close to the shore.

They were facing due West, into the wind and were fairly quiet. As we walked back to the car, I asked a birdwatcher what they were. ‘Brent Geese’, he said. ‘All the way from Siberia, they prefer our winters.’ When I looked them up this morning on ‘Google’ that I realised they had flown 2,500 miles, following the coastline from northern Russia.

Could this be their tracks?

They will now be our guests, increasing in numbers up to January, mainly eating the inter-tidal eel grass, Zostera spp. leaving our shores in late February; they fly for over 3 months, to return to the Arctic tundra in June.  My father-in-law regularly digs along the intertidal area of the north Kent coast, (for archaeological finds, not bait), and often tells me of the birds he sees.

Looking for clues.

He goes out when the tide is right, all throughout the year and has become very aware of the passing through of many species of birds. Through his passion for archaeology, he is deeply connected to the tides, seasons and migratory habits of the birds in that area. He knows where the eel grass grows that the Brent geese favour, whether it’s a good year for it and all the other plants that live on the marshes. His regular connection with the landscape has given him specific knowledge of the area.

The sign for the 'Saxon Shore Way' path, leading around the Kent coast.

Journeys

I have always loved a journey; it is the path to the destination and a part of the whole experience. I like to explore a map and plan a route, look for landmarks and feel confident I can find my way home/back. I use the same method whether I am driving a car or walking. (I don’t use sat-nav.)

Sheep following a well worn path.

I feel that movement in itself can be remembered, sometimes as much as the physical landmarks. Walking up a hill will be remembered in the muscles of my body, where it felt easy, where I overstretched, where I rested etc. I wonder whether the physical act of walking along a route regularly enough physically and mentally connects us with the environment.

The choice of paths at Seasalter, along the grass or walking along the seashore.

 

Walking along the beach means having to step over every groyne.

I remember reading while researching for my MA that there is a link with movement and body memory. Just as we know that people can learn in a variety of ways, including kinaesthetic, then the act of walking may in itself allow us to learn whilst moving. I will experiment with this, in the next week I may try to learn a new poem whilst walking the same route regularly.

Close up of a groyne post, often holding small pebble treasures in its weathered wide grain.

I know, as a keen dancer, that the more I know a piece of music, the easier the moves within it become. The journey of the dance is led by the music. The music reminds my body of what way to go and what to do. Again, I think back to the ‘Songlines’, the navigable but invisible tracks in the land that allow Australian aborigines to walk for many hundreds of miles through their homeland.  These Songlines were memorised in an oral and aural tradition and used to tell stories of the earth’s creation. The people would walk the path and journey along the Songlines to a piece of narration in the form of a song, importantly the song is set to the speed of the walk itself. This reminds me of my body’s awareness when I dance. Subconsciously it remembers the music, the movements and the full dance. It is in the physical muscle of the body and in the memory of the sound. The dance movements release or realise the journey of the music.

Journeying

This is something I like to do; it is a deep, rewarding human activity and common practice to all indigenous societies throughout history. To journey in a shamanic way is to visit other landscapes, where the destination is unknown, but a clear intention can bring you to the right place. Shamanic journeys stay vivid in your mind, unlike a dream which is intangible and easy to forget. Listening to the sound of the drum which accompanies journeying allows for a more intense experience which gets into our subconscious mind. I may write more about this another time.

Big sky.

(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.)