Stone thinking…
I am satisfied with how the twigs sit now. I know what they are, where they came from in terms of my evolving practice, and I know what they’re doing, what they stand for and what I’m doing with them.
I can’t yet say the same for these stones.
As with the sticks, I start to get to know the stones by handling them and drawing them. Stones are connected to the earth the twigs emerge from, the roots surrounded them but do not penetrate them. These particular stones though have holes in them, worn by the power of water and sand and smaller stones, or the burrowing of sea creatures into softer parts of the stone… (these holes could support a plant… I might make it happen… )
Semiotically speaking the place these particular stones came from is not the same environment as the sticks… perhaps my mother was a stone and my father was a stick? Brought together by circumstance from 2000 miles apart… I am already seeking extra layers of meaning for myself. Maybe I do this because of that feeling of rootlessness? A need to create order from chaos?
I will continue to draw them… to see if they start to tell me more…
I’ve started to draw them together, I like how that feels and looks, and threading a stick through a hole in a stone feels like the natural thing to do…
