Procession and the act of walking.

Procession and the act of walking.

Last week I led a group of people in a procession up the ancient Salt Way, to mark the change in season, celebrating the Summer Solstice and the longest day of the year. A day when the daylight prevails and darkness is scarce. The path we take, The Salt Way was a trading route which has views out over Whitstable Bay to the north and the remains of the ancient Northwood of Kent to the south.

Path through the broad bean harvest.

We gathered together at the base of the path, for The Salt Way is interrupted here by the 'Thanet Way' passing over it and gathered ourselves together too. Greetings subsided, chats were finished off, candles for lanterns were lit and we got in line and looked up towards the tree tops on the horizon at the paths summit.

Looking across to The Blean.

Then in order of the colours which we had chosen to wear for that evening, we started to walk. Slowly and mindfully. It doesn't take any longer than 10-15 minutes to walk up that section of the Salt Way and for the affect it gives to those who process along it in this manner, time becomes something else. To walk in a procession with others is a process in itself. Walking slowly is something that feels so powerful, so simple and yet so unnatural amongst the busyness of the 21^st century that I feel we need to practise it all the more.

Midsummer sunset.

Walking at this pace becomes a conscious physical process. Aspects of it such as judging distance, poise of movement, understanding the surface to be trodden on, all play on, along with a constant silent narration keeping up the momentum; 'one side heel...ball of foot...toes, use a small push to take you forward, balance out with left foot heel...ball...toes..'

In doing so a gentle awareness is brought to the regular motion and complexity of this everyday act. Thinking of the feet and their mark on the earth, thinking of those who had all walked before us up this ancient path and all those who will walk here in the future is a very grounding occupation.

By the time I reached the area we were planning to stop and sit in I felt quite different, somehow calmer and more aware of my surroundings. I tried to keep a slow pace that didn't create too much wobbling off balance and the effect of the sun setting behind us casting our shadows into a procession walking alongside us added a wonderfully strange emphasis to this magical moment in time. Up the path through the fragrant broad bean crop we walked slowly one behind another with our shadowy companions.

Fire circle at top of hill.

At the top of the hill, we stopped and sat, gathering around a tiny fire. The home-made sea salt that we had held in our hand as we walked mindfully up the path was now thrown onto the fire with our blessings as dusk finally arrived.

Up there we spoke of our gratitude to have been able to make time to mark time, in this way, at this place on this significant day, Recognising the deep connection we have with people and place, we watched the sun sink lower creating a most beautiful sunset and slowly walked back down the hill.

Walking home.

Our mid year Summer exhibition, will be over the weekend of the 15-16^th of July. So, not long now for us to mount and frame some work, print out cards and other smaller pieces and get some last minute painting done too! (For there is nothing like a deadline to focus the mind!) The doors of the studio will be open from 11-4 on Saturday only when refreshments will be available and all are welcome. The address is 'Lucknow', 67 Northwood road, Tankerton, Whitstable, Kent. CT5 2HB.

Detail of drypoint etching print.

Also for your diaries I will be opening the doors of my beautiful straw bale studio once again this year to exhibit my own and Alison’s work as part of the Canterbury Festival, the theme is still 'The Spirit of Place' and 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

First woodcut ready for printing.

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

Seasonal Markers, our place in time, location and nature.

It seems hard to believe that it was just a month ago when the Bluebells were fully out and smelling so powerfully fragrant in our woods. Today it is hot, very hot and the season of Bluebells seem an age away.

The way into the wood.

When I remind myself of how it was when I walked into the lush woodland to see and smell such a vibrant and abundant flower it almost seems like a dream. The floor of the wood was covered in this amazing blue, nearly violet in hue and the haze of the colour spread out as far as the eye could see, in bright contrast to the emerald green leaves of the new Beech leaves overhead.

Storing and pressing a few Bluebells for my printing work at the studio later.

I remember Alison Lees, my friend and collaborating artist on the project 'Spirit of Place', sat on a fallen tree trunk and I sat on the damp forest floor observing and sketching the Bluebells, insects and trees and in doing so we felt nestled in, among and part of nature itself.

Painting in situ, on the woodland floor.

Later on in my studio I created a series of Gelli-plate prints coupled with William Blake’s words, celebrating the wonder of this moment. Since then I have also made a very large woodcut print of my experience and a much smaller drypoint etching. These will be on show in our mid year Summer exhibition, which we are planning now for next month. (Dates and place to be confirmed ASAP!).

Detail of the 'reveal' as it happened!

Tonight, I will lead a group of people in a procession up the ancient Salt Way, to mark the change in season, celebrating today the Summer Solstice and the longest day of the year. A day when the daylight prevails and darkness is scarce. The path we take, The Salt Way has been written about many times in this blog, for I used it as a case study when I studied for a Masters a few years back. It is a trading route which has views out over Whitstable Bay to the north and the remains of the ancient North Wood of Kent to the south.

Summer Solstice procession.

From the point at which we stop and sit, gathering around a tiny fire as dusk finally arrives we have a 360 degree view of our surroundings. Once again nestled down in nature and on this significant day, amongst friends, we mark time, recognising the deep connection we have with people and place.

The Salt Way continues on from this point at which we are seated, to Canterbury and beyond as it has done for thousands of years. To step out literally from this seemingly highly chaotic and busy world we live in and take time to slow down, the notion of the path connecting people to place over generations and more recently seasons has a very calming affect on us all.

Long may it last.

A finished Gelli-plate print.

Our mid year Summer exhibition, which we are planning now for next month will have its date and place confirmed on the next blog. In the meantime for your diaries I will be opening the doors of my beautiful straw bale studio once again this year to exhibit my own and Alison’s work as part of the Canterbury Festival, the theme is still 'The Spirit of Place' and 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

Marking Time

Marking Time

Soon it will be Midsummer. The longest day of daylight hours will be celebrated here in Whitstable again as it has been over the past few years when I will lead a procession of people up the hill on the old Salt Way, walking slowly and mindfully.

The Salt Way, Whitstable.

We will remember the history of this place in another time when it was a main trading route which carried salt from its origins on the coast through to the centre of Kent, where it was needed as an essential commodity.

Seawater, handmade clay vessel and small copper fire-pit.

I initially created this event as a one off piece of fieldwork for the MA project I was working on. I wanted to ‘re-enchant’ this overlooked and disused historic path by creating a spectacle that could be both participated in and viewed as a shared experience. Over the years it has become a regular occurrence and now past participants look forward to it.

Midsummer Fire on the Salt Way.

Midsummer day is a natural marker in the year to take stock of what has already been achieved and take some time out for anticipating future developments and clarifying the flow of our own activity on this lightest of days.

The sun setting last Midsummer.

From past experience I know that the practice of walking together in a procession and slowing down to a steady mindful pace does physically mark time for all of us and creates a wonderful and essential sense of connection with people, place and season, outside our busy lives.

Seasonal Senses

Over Easter I had a great break away, staying in a treehouse in Wales. I wrote about it here, two entries ago. What I most appreciated when I returned to Kent was the abundance of fruit blossom that was out in the orchards, amongst the roadside hedgerows and especially in my garden. We have planted many fruit trees here to add to the much older stock that we were lucky enough to inherit when we moved into the house and its garden 20 years ago.

Returning from the beautiful lush, wild and rocky landscape of Wales to suburban Kent was slightly disappointing until I opened the back door and saw that our garden was full of blossom! The pear blossom was nearly finished and didn't smell as sweet as the fresh apple tree flowers that were busy with bees, but the overall view of the garden was one of abundance and beauty.

Apple blossom.

Throughout the year as the seasons change there are always familiar elements to look forward to. In the woods in which I regularly walk, once the white carpet of Wood Anemones has finished, the Bluebells fragrance the air and their vibrant blue colour can become almost overwhelming in its intensity.

Seasonal variations in light and shadow can be appreciated whilst out walking.

These cyclic seasonal changes are reassuring and a great reminder of our place in the world, putting ‘front page news events’ into perspective. I believe that to walk and observe this regular seasonal change connect us to our senses and in fact sometimes are the only thing that ‘makes sense’. It reminds us that we are also part of the flora and fauna of these islands and that in itself is a humbling thought.

Making Sense

We like things to make sense; it gives us a feeling of well-being and security. With the onward march of the terror group ISIS, record and fatally high temperatures in India, FIFA corruption and constant government policy announcements in the news it can be a relief to walk out and use our senses to remind ourselves of the real world.

Walking allows us to focus on reality.

Walking allows us to slow down and observe seasonal changes and as we do so we start to recognise natural fragrances such as Bluebells or leaf litter, learn bird-songs or understand the light and shadow play at a specific time of year. Wild food foraging allows us to connect deeper to our environment knowing when and where to look for specific berries, leaves, seeds etc.

Wild Food Mandala created by Jo Barker and participants of her foraging walks.

‘The Spell of the Sensuous’ by David Abram was one of my favorite books I used when I studied for my MA. Its subtitle was ‘Perception and language in a More-Than-Human-World’. There is a chapter on the 'Ecology of Magic' that includes this quote,

‘Caught up in a mass of abstractions, our attention hypnotised by a host of human-made technologies that only reflect us back to ourselves, it is all too easy for us to forget our carnal inherence in a more-than-human matrix of sensations and sensibilities.’

Walking encourages us to slow down, that in itself is a start to making sense of it all. When we are at a walking pace we are able to observe and recognise the place that we are in. Steadily one step at a time we are able to become more than human.

Last years Midsummer gathering.

Mindful walking, alone or in a procession, creates a sense of enormous well-being and that is why I will be returning once again to the Salt Way at Midsummer, with others, to share a special experience that will help us make sense of it all.

Familiarity

Familiarity

I have just come back from a 5 day break in Cadiz. It was the third time I have visited this beautiful city and at last I felt a sense of familiarity with its streets. The first time I visited I remember thinking this was an impossibility.

At home in Cadiz.

The streets seemed to have no plan, they criss-crossed the peninsular, some stopped abruptly in a dead end whilst others opened up unexpectantly onto tree filled squares. In my imagination I had compared this place to a cleaner, friendlier and sunnier version of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld city, Ankh Morpork.

A typical street in Cadiz.

The difference between orientating yourself in a northern European city and this one, 59 miles away from Tangiers, Africa as I see it is one of scale and proportion. The climate and topography are obviously very different and these factors have influenced the evolution of the street system, the buildings and therefore our familiarity with its form.

Details of places once visited become familiar landmarks.

Cadiz gets very hot and one way of creating shady passageways amongst the city is to build taller buildings, close together, so that the sea air is funnelled through the streets, allowing for a cooler more comfortable city environment.

Looking up.

I have grown up in the UK where in comparison, the climate and topography is variable and in general the streets are wider and buildings lower than those in Cadiz and this allows landmarks to be more easily recognised from a distance.

Path in the Botanical gardens.

Whether they are manmade or natural these landmarks have given me a spatial awareness by which I have been able to map my environment. Even in a city like London, the vista is wide enough to be able to pinpoint a landmark and orientate myself. The scale of London is larger than that of Cadiz which is more of a pedestrian or human scale model.

Orientation

One of the difficulties of navigating around Cadiz is that it is set out on a peninsular away from the mainland of Spain. This creates many views through the streets that look similar; multiple narrow streets have a brilliant glow at the end, as the space becomes expansive and the sun on the ocean glints in the distance.

Looking out to sea.

Laurie Lee in his novel, ’As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning’ described the city well.

‘ Cadiz, from a distance, was a sharp incandescence, a scribble of white on a sheet of blue glass, lying curved on the bay like a scimitar and sparkling with African light.’

His other descriptions of the city are detailed and don’t paint the place as a pleasant destination at all. I am glad to say that it has changed; it is quite beautiful and charming now, with wonderful architecture, food and culture.

Door detail.

But on this visit, once I had relooked at my old map and taken note of the shape of the peninsular and remembered familiar ‘hang-outs’ from previous years, (such as various bars, the beach and market areas), it took me a while to orientate myself but then it was clear! I continued to add information on this trip to my past knowledge of the place and suddenly it felt familiar.

Detail from one of the many church facades.

This was a very comforting feeling to achieve and made me realise once again how important my project could be, connecting people to place through walking, discovering or rediscovering their locality.

Festivals and Rituals

The reason why I have visited Cadiz so often in the last few years is because of my interest in Flamenco. I have always loved the music and costume, so when a teacher offered classes in flamenco movement 5 years ago, I joined up. Four years ago we travelled out to Jerez, a neighbouring town of Cadiz and participated in our first Feria.

The Feria at Jerez is a place to promenade.

The history of the ‘Feria de Caballo’, (Jerez horse fair), goes back to over 500 years ago, when it was the location for a livestock fair, which ran from April to September. Over time it grew in popularity and stands were put up by local wine and sherry producers to sell to the spectators and participants. The specific dates are based on a three week timescale after Semana Santa, (the week leading up to Easter Sunday.)

Promenading by day and night.

People in this area have connected to the place where they live by participating in this event each year, watching the horses parade up and down the park and dancing Sevillanas in the surrounding ‘casetas’. This shared experience of an annual event is valuable to a community in many ways. It can bring people together, build community, encourage pride in a place and also inspire tourists to visit.

Flamenco costume in Cadiz streets.

During my MA study I researched the history of connection to the land through ritual use, including processional movement, symbolic landscape markers and ceremonial gatherings. The feria at Jerez was very interesting to visit with these aspects in mind.

Here in the UK there were many more annual festivals that have been lost. One I am particularly aware of was the ‘Scouring of the White Horse’ at Uffington in Oxfordshire. Thomas Hughes of ‘Tom Brown’s School Days’ fame, wrote a book with this title back in 1859 and depicts the ceremonial annual practice of scouring the chalk cut horse, so that its white shape can be seen with greater clarity from a distance.

The ceremonial path at Avebury has inspired me to paint.

The artist Paul Nash took this photo, he was also fascinated by the chalk white horse.

There is an Iron Age fort up on the hill, just above the chalk figure, it was in this enclosure, named ‘Uffington Castle’, that the festivities took place. His book details all the merry goings on and is an interesting read.

Midsummer

Next month it will be midsummer and yet again I will quietly lead a group of people up along a section of the Salt Way path to light a fire and enjoy being in that moment at that place. Over the last few years it has become even more special as I share the experience with others and they all add their own trace and story to the route.

The section of the Salt Way that we walk at Midsummer.

One lady introduced her daughter to the walk last year and they both shared a very special experience as the sun set and we sat around the fire at the top of the hill. The journey back down was lovely as the lanterns lit up the procession and people were chatting happily as fireworks went off in the distance at the harbour. I am sure this year will be wonderful again for the participants and any potential onlookers.