feeling somewhat ROPEY!

further meditations on implied feelingness

one day or another, recently walking the pebble ridge, my massive evolving animate friend, that is familiar to me as part of my home – a place of spiritual and meditative value, a place of communal sensitivity to myself at least – I spied a large knot of rope on the strand line – human in scale, discarded as useless and bothersome from some passing boat, at some time or another, its specific age or place of origin being fairly indeterminate to me, despite the initial stages of algal growth within its mass and the various frayings and breakings in its length. I tossed it thoughtfully out of the ocean’s reach – subtracting it superficially from the mass of other tanglings threatening some forms of sea life (while also providing homes for others) and left it on the ridge for further contemplation at another time…

I have taken most recently to relating to objects and processes within my everyday environment as metaphors and actions for meditative and therapeutic repair[i]To spend an hour or so unraveling a tangle of rope being as relevant to ecological threat and purpose as it is to my psychological make-up and understanding. To gather sticks and bind them may be seen as a ritual of thought process as much as a sculptural activity, as a process of gathering fuel for a home and maybe equally powerful in intent and outcome…

and eventually, after some weeks of passing upon my regular wonderings, I was drawn to retrieve this particular tangle of rope, untouched it seemed by any other human hand, not thrown back to the ocean or cast into a landfill. Grey and frayed, exuding a gentle odour of rotting seaweed – it  somehow matched my frame of mind – confused and a little useless, not to mention grey and shot through with a heavy strand of vibrant turquoise!?! Balancing from cobble to cobble as I was, dancing along the stones as I have a tendency to do, to balance myself and bring strength to my lumbar core (or so I’m informed) – I placed the mass upon my hat and carried it thus like some sea salted Rastafarian, or a monster with its brain messily exposed, for half a mile or so until I reached a site to perform my intended operation – to attempt to unravel and to order this metaphorical complication that I had mindfully acquired…

feeling ropey

I did lope along the strand line

rescuing my tangled self

altering perspective through intimate investigation oddity and unravelled mindfulness…

 

this art is helpful on a number of levels

whether it is useful beyond its immediate interference is a matter for some other further debate…

PW2012


[i] Much gratitude and worthy acknowledgements to Clare Thomas for her MA Art & Environment research culminating in similar and shared aspirations and actions. Clare’s practice may be further explored and enjoyed at www.cleaningbeaches.wordpress.com with a more specifically related article at http://cleaningbeaches.wordpress.com/2012/04/13/small-acts-of-repair/

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