I am a huge fan of Goldsworthy. He has played an influential part in my development as an artist and is a great inspiration to follow. Working directly in the landscape he makes sculptures, permanent and temporary, using the materials that he finds or that belong or are associated with a particular area. His work can have a performative edge or action that happens either straight away or over a long period of time, such as melting ice, plant decay, or ageing of wood or stone.
It was a strenuous walk, physical. My senses were heightened and I became very aware of all the colours around me. They seemed brighter than ever. Was this because Portugal had been drier and more arid? A hue of greens and greys with the occasional exotic plant. The ground in Scotland is lush, illuminous almost, with all shades of browns and oranges, pinks and greens all mixed in. I mainly work in monochrome, black and white, and these colours are bright.
It is also very noisy, not of dogs barking and the tinkling of the bells around the sheep, goats and cow's necks in Portugal, but of birds and insects. It seemed almost deafening. Lovely, but very loud. At least it seemed so.
It was good to be out in the fresh air. I seem to crave the sensation of wind blowing in my face, almost hungary, just for that. The sense of touch perhaps, and a metaphorical "blowing away the cobwebs", freedom.
We walked through the forest. 'Proper' forest, where the path disappeared and we had to scramble vertically up the hill side, through the trees, almost on our hands and knees, getting covered in all manner of pines, twigs and plant debris on the way. Initially I loved being in the forest, the soft carpet ground, the smells of the wood, the hushed silence, I suppose - the adventure, but I started to get anxious and panicked and the trees felt like they were closing in on me, claustrophobia. The young branches looked like a web spreading out above and around me. We finally made it out from the trees up onto open ground.
When I walk, it is for the experience of the walk and a place/time to think. Often I become oblivious to the views around me. Because there were so many ups and downs, and I hate going up hills, I focussed on Shawn's footsteps in front of me. If I couldn't see the hill in front of me and it's 'verticalness', then I could just keep walking, each step at a time, until I got to the top. Only then would I look around at the views and my surroundings. It's interesting that many of my drawings are like imaginary landscapes that you look down from above, yet when I am, in real life, at a high point looking down from above, I don't actually take it all in. I love the views, but I don't thrill about them. They're kind of just there, but obviously seem to be important in my drawings, as that is what I draw.
After seeing the first arch in the farm building, we managed to reach two more, the forth one being too far away. Able to sit next to the stone, they were a shelter and marker points for our journey. Pleased to be sharing in the work of Goldsworthy, I think I would have been more excited if I had discovered one of his ephemeral pieces somewhere, such as a pattern of leaves, or a drawing of twigs.
We were right out, almost on our own. There was a lack of humans, but not really. There was a wind farm ahead of us, an aeroplane flying high in the sky, and the odd bleeping of the mobile phone. Hey ho.
I do like walking, both as an exercise and activity. I have been part of three group walks led by Hamish Fulton, whose practice is all about the walk - "no walk, no work" he will say. It was a good walk yesterday and I know I ache a bit today!
Colt Hill Arch
Benbrack Arch with Colt Hill Arch in the distance
Walking up toward Colt Hill Arch
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