Loweswater 29.1.10
It is impossible for us to be here and not remember our first efforts in ‘Swimming Home’ a couple of years ago on a warm summer day:
Now it is midwinter and the other side of the year. We walk in and arrive at the same place on the shore. Paul immerses himself in the lake, while I immerse myself in preparations for transforming a tree, a tree whose fruits are to be painted stones.
I paint the stones while snow settles on them and reflect that bathing in a tarn is best, but bathing or immersing myself in the performance of art is good also – ‘dipping’ into ‘Swim Circle’ has that same invigorating and transforming effect. Even thinking about ‘Swim Circle’ while engaged on some mundane task – washing up – has that effect on me – this is the power of ‘art’?
We are engaged on a project whose fruits are memorable experiences; and these are organised into a frame of mind, a structure of meaning – Swim Circle.
When we finish we walk away from the shore and into the woods, two walkers pass us – it is grim weather and their demeanours seem to increase the general grimness of the day. Our fantasy is that they walk along and discover the pieces we have constructed and that their discovery starts them talking, so that they feel uplifted – their day is redeemed and enlarged by our work – they are happy, we are happy, our experience has had a positive effect on theirs.
We skulk around in the trees trying to see what they do, trying to confirm our fantasy. They definitely stop in the vicinity of the work – beyond that all is guess work. They talk? About what? About the two pieces of work or what they see as litter? Are they outraged or appreciative. But then maybe art should evoke outrage?
They move on and we walk back along the shore in a cloud of unknowing. All this has to find its place in the ‘big picture’ – Swim Circle.
Richard
