In 1998-1999 I produced a number of drawings based on memories and photographs of the area in which I grew up: Charnwood Forest in Leicestershire.
The text reads:
Looking. Logging. Letting-go.
Where are those days now? What happens to the years? Are they piled and stacked somewhere? Does the dust fall on them now, or does it fall on them in their own time? Was it yesterday that disappeared? Or today? Or does nothing disappear – everything at every moment being re-absorbed into what is?
Make a den – somewhere to sit – be anything – play ghosts, have fears – cry, howk, tremble at the tilt of sunlight through cobwebs and flies’ wings.
Excavations in rain – water in crannies of rock – roots push hard against black earth – mist settling like a soft white swan. Touchstone.