As we leave, I worry about loosing the connection to rocks, water, and plants, creatures in this extraordinary landscape where we have been since the start of confinement.
I am tethered in by both floating and taught threads to the locations where I drew, the places spent in observation, listening, seeing, and finding active awareness of relationships between, for example, a birch and their surrounding moss beds, or twisting cedars growing out of rock bases, touching the fjord, where beluga pods gently open the surface of the water; white mounds rising, flashing like the birch trees in moonlight.
I am not loosing 'here', but anchored to these places, the complex and precise relationships found there, held and woven into the time of there, accessible anywhere, anytime. A line that extends from the body right back down to that rock where the listening and drawing happened and where with my spine curved into that cedar.
Departures and arrivals.
*( works in the early 90's: threads taught accross rooms, threads decending from the ceiling changing the perception of space, 2 tiny sculpted heads joined by a taught thread accross the room where to draw the line