I have been thinking a lot this week about my physical location – where I actually spend a large amount of my life. How it impacts on my being an artist. The shadow of the former mining industry has a long half life and the place seems to be in a state of suspense, waiting for … what?
Perhaps it is that inchoate sense of possibility that I am drawn to, and back to. Meanwhile, where else would I be woken at 5 in the morning by a mass of horses running through the street after being let out from their enclosures on the fell by local malcontents. Or be given a guided tour of the fell by an ex-miner who later brought me a large section of a fossilized fish from the time when the fell was under the sea.
