Stitched Red Leaf Sun Square

Stitched Red Leaf Sun Square, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

I spent all day making what I did yesterday and as I didn't have a watch with me I was surprised to find it was 6.30pm by the time I got home. I quickly showered, loaded and processed my photos, wrote two accompanying stories, cooked dinner and finally sat down and relaxed an hour later.

Saturday is my normal "land art day" but as I had the day off yesterday I took full advantage. My partner works Saturdays so I was looking forward to doing some more sculpturing today.

My cat is a very good alarm clock and at 7am without fail she announces her presence with a trill miaow. The trouble is she won't have anyone else feed her, she just ignores my partner so I have to get up to do it. No lie-ins for me! I felt very bleary eyed and not at all in a fit state to do some art. So instead of getting at it I had some brekkie, went to the supermarket and then came home and went back to bed! I'll bet proper, dedicated artists would never do that!

I went to the park once I was properly all snoozed out and found some lovely red and yellow variegated leaves that had dropped to the floor. I don't know their variety but they had a similar vein structure to maple leaves. The park attendants were doing their rounds clearing the bins in their green buggy. They saw me collecting leaves and pulled up and stared at me scowling. I just carried on and eventually they drove away. They can't have thought I really was up to much or perhaps they would have actually said something?!

Although there have been quite a few leaves on the ground for a few weeks, this morning was the first time I saw some beech and birch trees actively shedding in the light early morning breeze. It must be the cooler night time temperatures we have had accompanying this gorgeous clear weather.

I took the leaves back to the place where I was yesterday and found the lightning leaves sculpture 100% intact apart from an artistic slug which had dawbed silvery graffiti across it. I wonder if anyone will come across it? It is very near to a well travelled path but far enough away that perhaps no-one except sheep will pass that way. I hope someone does and they are intrigued as to how it came to be there. I know I would be if I came across such a thing.

To highlight the vein structure I cut out squares and stitched them together and then I had to think of a way of displaying as the leaves which were very delicate and would tear under their own weight if not well supported. So I constructed a square frame and pinned everything together with thorns. Next job was to find a pool of sunlight and somewhere to display it. This was the hardest part of all and took more than an hour of faffing and trying different places. The wind had got up at this point and it was starting to shed thorns meaning each time that it did I had to restitch a section and the leaves got more and holes and tears in them. The clock is always running with leaf sculptures like this. But finally I did get it sorted and hung it from a branch and the sunlight caught it just right.

Time for a beer and barbecued chicken now!

Stitched Red Leaf Sun Square, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

Stitched Red Leaf Sun Square, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

Leaf Lightning

Leaf Lightning, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

Earlier this week I went for a stroll around the university campus as it is only a few minutes away. There were lots of new students arriving with demeanours ranging from shocked looking to abject excitement. I joined the latter group when some wonderful maples caught my eye as they were resplendent with all the colours of a New England fall. That isn't usual with the trees in this country and I could barely contain myself. However they were all just out of reach. Hmm I thought how am I going to get to them?

Right that second the director of facilities walked past busily texting on his mobile (a bit of a coincidence seeing as I have only met three people who work there and very handy as he is the one who can give me permission to collect leaves). I bounded over to him and excitedly exclaimed "is it okay if I get a ladder and collect some of these leaves?!"

I don't think he recognised me immediately and unsurprisingly he was a bit taken aback. "Err yes, no-one will mind, feel free." I guess dealing with students leaves you a little desensitized to mad behaviour.

I am not used to asking for permission to be eccentric nor having it granted and this made a nice change so I returned the next day with a ladder and a stick and began plucking down the colourful lovelies err I mean leaves.

I woke up this morning and the image of this sculpture lingered in my mind as it must have been the subject of my last dream. I've been dreaming about land art all week and I think I am back in the groove again.

When I arrived at the place I was going to make it I searched for a place to gather some peat. Everywhere I tried there was nothing but curled up millipedes and thick roots, this wasn't going to work. So I climbed over the dry stone wall and surveyed the side of the stream and found a good spot for nice wet and dark peat.

I piled what I collected onto several flat stones and balanced them on top of the wall and then I clambered back over to where I was going to make the peat canvas.

I used the maple leaves I collected from the Uni campus and sealed them in with more black mud and this is the result.

On the way home a black wild rabbit ran out in front of me. Is that some sort of omen? I know about black cats but I have never seen a black rabbit before but I think I will decide that it means that this wonderful spell of glorious weather is going to last at least a couple of weeks. Happy weekend all!

Leaf Lightning, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

Leaf Lightning, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

Oak Leaf Sun Star

Oak Leaf Sun Star, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

I made this as a little doodle as I was waiting for the sun to go in to photograph the much more involved sculpture I had just finished making (I will post pictures of that later). Photography is weird (or perhaps I am) as normally I wait for the sun to come out to take a picture but direct sun on leaves bleaches the colour from the shot and so I needed shade.
It has rained and rained recently and finally high pressure has hit and we have been rewarded with glorious sunshine. There seems to be a pattern and this has happened in September at exactly the same time for the last few years. I've not been able to dabble in making my favourite leaves and light sculptures, too windy, too wet and no sun. But today has been glorious and yet I made something that needed shade. Hmmm...

But while I waited I inspected the oak trees and one had these wonderful variegated leaves, I think it was possibly diseased but they looked lovely all the same. A few thorns later and it was done and the hardest bit was getting the camera high enough to get a dark background. After all sorts of teetering on boulders and hanging on to tree branches this is what I ended up with.

Scarlet Oak Ball on Leaves

Scarlet Oak Ball on Leaves, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

I took the ball on a trip this morning: to a quarry to see some rock; on the moor to show it some heather in flower; to a bog to get it’s feet wet and to a wood to sit it on some leaves.

As the leaves dry and contract the thorns start to drop out. It can be quite an effort to keep something like this intact. At the first venue it fell off its perch and it went for quite a long roll. Fortunately it didn’t get too battered. But as I took it from place to place the travelling and the wind took its toll and it became more and more tatty. Some serious repair work is now required. It seems to be an odd combination – ephemeral land art. Not only are the sculptures fragile with a tendency to degrade quickly over time they also live outside amongst the elements and have to suffer the abuse that is thrown at it.

I met two guys walking at the quarry today and we chatted while I took some photos.

“What’s in the middle?” Jim asked me, “is it polystyrene?”

“No I said, I only use natural materials.”

“And the leaves are stitched together are they? What did you use? Cocktail sticks?”

“No” I said, “I used thorns, I only use what I can gather from nature.”

Art is all about self imposed rules and then seeing what you can do from within them. Whether applying paint to canvas, or sculpting a figure from stone they are all the same thing. By placing constraints on what you can do the hope is that you learn on many levels. About the material, about your imagination and about how you want to express yourself, all the time trying to learn more and improve what you are capable of.

Scarlet Oak Ball on Grass and on Leaves, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

Autumn Horse Chestnut Leaves

Autumn Horse Chestnut Leaves, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

I've always been tempted by these particular leaves, each year they are some of the first ones to turn, but unfortunately they are well out of reach.

Scarlet Oak Leaf Ball

Scarlet Oak Leaf Ball, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

I’ve been making this for several days, mostly because it has taken me time to locate enough trees to be able to find enough leaves. Many of them had been ravaged by insects and I could only reach a few of the lower branches so I had to find six different trees before I had enough leaves that were intact enough to use. I cannot tell you the exact variety of each tree but I think the leaves are a mixture of scarlet, red and pin oaks and they were several miles apart. The leaves are mostly quite large (larger than your hand), and none of the trees are native to Britain, although they are often grown here, so I am not too familiar with them. The photos were taken beneath one of the trees from which I gathered the leaves.

Whilst out gathering them I have received dozens of strange looks. I think people automatically assume you are up to no good if they cannot work out what you are doing. We live in such a distrusting society.

Yesterday’s sunshine didn’t last too long and today is again grey and drizzly. I took a walk around my usual haunts to see what the trees were doing and I was surprised to find that the trees from which I gathered the leaves to make this were already awash with colour. Despite originally calling that sculpture Sycamore Square I don’t think they are sycamore and I have not managed to correctly identify them. As I have become more interested in trees over the last few months I have realised my identifications are often wrong and I have a great deal more to learn. But I am guaranteed that the learning process will be very interesting indeed.

Scarlet Oak Leaf Ball, originally uploaded by escher (waiting no longer).

Maple Vein Squares

Maple Vein Squares, originally uploaded by escher (waiting for Autumn).

Wow, what a crap week it has been. It has rained pretty much non-stop, it has been extremely windy and autumn is certainly upon us as the nights are so obviously drawing in. I've been feeling really depressed and directionless and despite wanting to curl up in a corner and hide I have had endless crappy things to deal with that I could not avoid. A consequence of this mood is that my creativity has dried up and so I've not felt the satisfaction or the much needed solace that comes from making some art that I liked. With all the stress I started to feel that my creative edge was beginning to dissipate and I would not know how to ignite it once again.

But perhaps this demeanour is land art after all as the coming change in season dredges up deep feelings of melancholy as the period of abundance draws to a close. Perhaps I am feeling mother nature changing as all creatures at this time of year must do.

As the working week drew to a close the sun started to shine so I took a lunchtime stroll to blow away the cobwebs. The warmth on my face started to change the feeling in my stomach from sadness to a glow and it soon grew to genuine contentedness.

It is those things we call the small things that have the most profound affect on us whether we are aware of them or not. The small things should really be called the big things as that is how they really feel.

So I turned over a new leaf (do you see what I did there J) and as I looked at the dappled sunshine sparkle through the translucent leaves in their first autumnal flush I knew that where you lose one season you gain another and autumn is as wonderful as spring.

I stood beneath a single maple tree and the leaves on three of it’s dozens of branches were now turning every colour under the sun and another of those small things – the beauty of nature - was there in front of me in all it’s glory.

I took some of those and some yellowed leaves from a black poplar tree and just followed wherever my imagination took me. The right-angled veins of the dark maple leaves, the banana yellow of the black poplar and the red of the maple stalks were combined together until it felt just right.

The wind was still blowing strong so I would need some luck to get a picture in the can.

The leaves kept twisting in the wind but as I stepped back to my camera the arch frame tilted and put the whole sculpture into tension keeping it upright and straight and still.

It seems luck had returned to me and my art where just hours before I thought there was none. We can all find joy in the small things you just need to leave yourself open to find them.

And as I write these last sentences I glance to my right into the garden and a beautiful sparrowhawk is sitting on the wall in a pool of sunshine. How grateful I am for the small things.

Land Art Site

Maple Vein Squares, originally uploaded by escher (waiting for Autumn).

5 Colour Drops

5 Colour Drops, originally uploaded by escher (waiting for Autumn).

Part 2

If you are a bit of a perfectionist then the word's "that'll do" are a false economy. I've been out and finished this sculpture once already, written the notes, processed the photos and been ready to upload. Unfortunately what I ended up with was rubbish and I knew it but I carried on regardless. Well it saved me no time at all saying that'll do as I had to go back (to fortunately find it all still there) and put it together properly (I wouldn't have been able to sleep tonight if I hadn't). Finally I am happy with the result. I won't settle for second best again! Not being able to do it is one thing but not trying hard enough is another entirely. I am exhausted now and not feeling very funny or entertaining so I will just leave you with what I had written for the first attempt and go and crack myself open a beer. Happy Saturday evening all...

Part 1

After spilling a glass of water on my laptop last night (that will teach me not to drink - it should have been wine or beer) and rendering it operational but severely tempremental I wasn't in the mood to make anything today. Which is ironic as what I ended up with looks like balloons released from a kids party. It doesn't best describe my current demeanour but perhaps my subconcious is trying to tell me something.

I set off to a secret location this morning (one where grouse are not shot for fun) with the intention of building a new cairn. There is loads of suitable stone there and it is quite a good spot for one (although not as good as the previous place) and I thought with three days spare over the bank holiday weekend then I would have plenty of time to get it a fair way towards finished. The hardest part of constructing a cairn is carrying all the stone. I wish I could rope in some helpers but as usual I would have to do all the work myself. As I carried the tenth load I remembered my knackered foot, which is just beginning to heal, and thought that three days shifting stone wasn't really a good idea.

So I came home and went to see what colours my favourite cherry trees are producing. There were a few more coloured leaves but the most striking I found were vibrant red horse chestnut leaves. They are quite old and tattered by the time they produce this colour but they are striking nonetheless.

My obsession with leaves is undiminished so I just followed my nose without a plan or a preconceived idea of what was to follow.

The white leaves are poplar, the yellow/orange are cherry, the yellow/green is from an unidentified shrub, the green is hazel and lastly the red is horse chestnut.

I am not sure if the result is too childish but as I say I go about things without preconceptions. What comes out comes out and it either works or it doesn't. I am not sure whether this has worked or not. (In fact there is no doubt - it is rubbish!)

I am struggling a little with my land art at the moment and it seems that the funny stories have dried up too... These posts have always been real and from the heart, warts and all. I hope normal service will be resumed soon. We are complicated creatures and the more I learn the more I realise that I know nothing.

(And what's more I had my camera set up wrong - wrong ISO, wrong exposure comp - and had to take the pictures all over again twice. Just seemed I was running on 50% today).

Land Art Site

5 Colour Drops, originally uploaded by escher (waiting for Autumn).

Poplar Ball

Poplar Ball, originally uploaded by escher (waiting for Autumn).

We went looking for some new land art locations this morning and found a wonderful valley with a river in spate raging through the middle, a mini-gorge and a massive land slide. Every time we find a new magic hidden corner I am amazed at how much wonderful countryside there is around here, and we seem to find new magical places all the time. Northern Lancashire is fantastic for those of us who like to explore and delight at every mushroom, bird, flower and stream that is found. There is wide-eyed, child-like joy to be found round every corner. Or perhaps that's just me?

The rolling lane we took from the main road soon lifted us high onto the moor, the heather in flower glowed pink and the scudding clouds dragged dappled sunlight across the fells. There is nowhere more beautiful than the wild places of Northern Britain in such conditions. The rain and the shards of sun make the greens seem unreal and the pinks outlandish and the whole place wild and desolate and thrilling. It is though the saturation is permanently turned up and there is nowhere else you would want to be.

Uncle Hurricane Bill has come to visit us for a few days and his solo trip across the pond as left him much weakened and weary but he has still managed to lash us with wild winds and heavy rains. These pictures tell of the gaps between the squally showers as the wind dropped and the sun came out only for it to whip up again and for the heavens to open.

The branch that the ball is sat on was certainly not static and it got shaken off several times before I was finished, like a little seed ready to germinate, hitting the ground with a thunk. Each time a few more thorns would fall out and it was rendered a little bit more battered and out of shape.

The poplar leaves are like suede underneath, soft to the touch and white like no other leaves I know. As usual my land art ideas begin with simply finding something in nature that intrigues me with its beauty, so much so I have to make something with it. And then something about its structure or colour or another attribute will lead me want to follow the flow of what I see and see where it takes me. Intuitively exploring whatever I have found to feel and learn more about it.

These leaves have a delicate curve so that when you join them together they at first begin to form a bowl and the logical progression of this is of course a sphere. So that is the thought process I go through. First I see the leaves and pick one and feel its texture and marvel at its white underneath, the maple like shape that interlocks when joined together and the gentle curve that forms a sphere once the curve flows back around to join with itself once again.

I have a dream that one day I will have my own exhibition in a gallery and that some people will be interested enough to come see and will be enthralled enough to say that they enjoyed it. But ephemeral land art is as much about natural places and nature herself as it is about sculptures made from natural materials. To try and bring these things indoors divorces them from their home and can render them soulless and lost and lacking the energy and vibrancy that an ephemeral sculpture can be embued with outside. I have visited Andy Goldsworthy exhibitions and have seen some of his art keep that magic to such an extent that it takes your breath away and yet I have seen others that seem to be cut off from the source of their life. Perhaps this is simply how I viewed each sculpture, or perhaps that is indeed how they were but I long to discover how to bring that magic from outside to in so that more than a picture of an artwork can be shared.

So I think I am going to make a much larger poplar ball just to see if I can and to see if it develops sufficiently to be shown inside. I've brought home this one as I want to see what happens as the leaves dry out and to see how long it will last. The leaves are unlike any other deciduous leaves that I know so I am sure the result will be a surprise. I also expect my mood may have changed by tomorrow so I won't spout quite so much twaddle!

I photoed this amongst deciduous trees as that is where it came from but I also intended to take it onto the moor and set it upon dark, wet peat. That was going to be my entry into this months Land Art Connections project, theme "opposites", the white on black, growth of leaves on life giving earth. But I have a knackered foot and once we had stopped wandering this morning I winced at the thought of climbing high onto the moor and decided rest was a better idea. So here is my entry lacking a little of the concept aside from the whiteness of the leaves being the opposite of the green on top.

Made at Roeburndale Lancashire on 28th August 2009 from poplar, hazel and thorns.

Land Art Site

Poplar Ball, originally uploaded by escher (waiting for Autumn).

Reasons and seasons to be prolific

I've not been an 'artist' (whatever that is exactly) for very long (I've been a 'person' for much longer ;-)) so each fresh experience that comes my way feels very new.

I've been using nearly all my spare time recently to make inroads into my second book, trying to drum up some commissions, exhibitions and any interest that I can. It's been quite hard work, but reasonably fruitful. However despite my intentions it is work and not play. That won't be news to anyone of course but a combination of things seem to have conspired to have changed my life.

A few months ago I changed job and started to work from home more. This has meant longer hours and less spare time, but also I have not craved being outside as much as I would when stuck at the office.

Earlier in the year I went through an extremely prolific period of producing sculpture after sculpture. Ideas and more importantly the will to carry them through was in abundance. I knew that that couldn't continue indefinitely and it seems to have come to an end. So my ponderings are to ask why and perhaps the answer may also reveal an insight into why the prolific period begun at all.

As I said these experiences are new to me and I am interested in what I can learn from them.

Also I have noticed how I seem less inclined to make the most of the weather right now. During spring and early summer 2 minutes of sunshine meant an attempt at a barbecue or trying to pin translucent leaves to little wooden frame! And I mean every opportunity was taken! But now as the season seems to be remaining the same and I can't recall winter anymore I seem less inclined to make the most of what there is.

With my land art I try to explore the changes and factors of a season, what grows and what changes and how nature feels at any particular time. I don't think that it is contrived, instead my intention to learn about nature is a symptom rather than a cause. I make the discoveries by just going out and doing it and then finding out afterwards what I learnt. I don't try to learn this or that by preplanning, I find stuff out by accident but I find that all the more fascinating because it is that way. I simply wander and look, find a leaf that is beautiful (or whatever else) and then make something out of it and by doing I learn all about that thing, that place, nature and me.

But what I didn't realise until now is that my land art is not just about how nature changes and grows but it is about the affect those things have on me and how I feel. The hours of daylight, the need to be active during summer and the evocative feelings that a change in seasons can bring.

It dawned on me then that my land art is teaching me about myself and how as a living being the natural world affects me too, how I am a part of it and the seasons and cycles are felt and reveal change in me too. I now believe that the prolific period I enjoyed at the beginning of spring was borne of the long dark winter and those long nights built up in me a need to express the spring through what I did. Just as spring brings an explosion of life it also brought to me an explosion of ideas. But again this wasn't contrived spring brings a burst of energy to us all. It is real and not just a wish to put winter behind. I was born in January so I know what my parents were doing in spring!

What will the coming autumn bring to me? What will I learn about nature and what will I learn about myself? I can hardly wait!

This is a quote from my new book. Despite writing it I didn't really understand the level to which it may be true until now.

'Isn't it wonderful that every leaf, every stone has a moment in the limelight.

As the light hits each of them they come alive. The beauty of these things puts my life into perspective. I am sure it is the same thing that inspires religion in some people, but for me it just makes me feel humble with an inner-contentness, calmness and connectness. When I am making sculptures I feel I am the child I used to be. Wondering at the little things, the ripples in the water and the veins in a leaf as the sun pierces its translucent skin.

What I understand now is that nature's beauty isn't just in what I see, it's in what looking for it does to me.'

I'd be interested to know if artists of any persuasion (obsessed with nature and not) go through the same seasonal changes.

Conker Cube

Conker Cube, originally uploaded by escher (waiting for Autumn).

Well what is there to say? Its a cube made out of conkers.

Conkers aren't what the used to be, they've turned soft. I remember collecting them from the Horse Chestnut tree that hunger over my primary school playground. The green cases were very spiky and took a precision stomp to retrieve the brown nut from within.

These ones I collected this morning came in three varieties.

1) A little bit spiky
2) Bumps instead of spikes
3) Like miniature coconuts, soft and with no spikes at all

It's health and safety gone mad!

Land Art Site

24 Hours Later

24 Hours Later, originally uploaded by escher (waiting for Autumn).

A couple of you were asking how long these things last. Well here you go. You can see the leaves have gone brown and have dried up.

I have visited the tree where I got the leaves twice since I made this and each time, the number of leaves that had turned, had risen ten fold.

Is autumn early this year? I haven't looked as closely in previous years as I have started to this, but still it seems weird that some trees are turning already.

Land Art Site

Cherry Leaf Curtain

Cherry Leaf Curtain, originally uploaded by escher (waiting for Autumn).

Well I think the wait may be over. Autumn has arrived. I haven't visited my favourite cherry trees this year and finally they are starting to produce their most wonderful autumn colours.

But what is autumn and when does it start?

The Americans have a good system for this, they call it fall. So I propose that we rename spring to grow, summer to wilt and winter to shiver (the French nearly got that one right). Or how about using colours? Autumn could be red, summer yellow, spring green and winter white.

I noticed the first signs of colour earlier this week. Several beech trees were changing but they did look diseased. But every one of the ten cherry trees I searched out this morning had small clusters of orangey-pink leaves and these looked disease free.

It has been very wet in the UK over the last few weeks so it can't be that the trees need a drink but I don't remember seeing colour this early before. But again just like I hadn't ever noticed the colours that I found this spring and summer perhaps it is always this way. That autumn starts earlier and lasts longer than you might think and by putting my self on standby (escher waiting for autumn) then this year I have noticed the change. Another layer peeled back.

The autumnal theme is quite apt though as you may have noticed that this sculpture is sitting on a window sill. It has been very, very windy today. Far too windy for anything ephemeral to reach a point where I could take its photograph so I collected all the materials and went home. Whilst collecting I was lucky it was dry but a few short minutes after I got home the heavens opened so I have spent the day making this, listening to the radio whilst the rain lashed the window and the wind rocked the flowers and trees to and fro. The only evidence that belied it not being a full on autumnal day was the humidity and the temperature, everything else was just as it should be for an October day.

The other thing I learnt today is if you are going to make something indoors and photograph it there too then don't use the window sill that the cat likes to sit on because you will find that when you review the photos on your computer that the cat hair and paw smears on the glass will spoil the result. And after cleaning it inside and out beware of interested partners who suggest that you photograph it in front of several other windows. It isn't that they appreciate your art, it is more that the appreciate you cleaning the windows.

Land Art Site

Super Spore

Super Spore, originally uploaded by escher (waiting for Autumn).

I am not sure how this story will turn out. While I was out making this sculpture I realised that I hadn't had any breakfast and my blood sugar had plummeted. I felt very light headed and woosy and a handful of sugary wild blueberries didn't help. So this story may write itself as I still haven't recovered. It might be a true account or it may be a hypoglycaemic reverie of imagination. I'll let you know once I have finshed, or perhaps you can tell me when you stop reading.

Since I made the first spore I have wanted to make another. Bigger and stronger so that I can roll it down a hill. I used dogwood to construct it and I was taken aback by just how much material I needed. It was very dense and heavy and as I made it at the bottom of the hill so then I had to lug it to the top to take it's photo (plus camera, two tripods, a rock and a set Chinese meal for one). It was not an easy thing to carry, heavy and unweildy and it made it quite plain that it was not the only dense thing around here. Someone else must be too, to think that carrying such a spiky, twisty, heavy thing through thick undergrowth was a suitable leisure activity! Not only that but the dense undergrowth was sodden with dew and soon I emerged soaking wet from the chest down, trainers filled with water, leg stabbed multiple times with sharpened sticks and a sore wrist bent out of shape by the fruit of my labour. My "cover" story would sound about as plausible as the "I was vacuuming in the nude when..." tale told to hospital emergency staff.

The heather was in full bloom and the rowan trees dense with ripened red fruit. The blueberry leaves had turned golden and marroon red and the fell was awash with colours. Low blood sugar was not needed to enhance the riot of hues but I am sure it helped a little bit.

And then began a long period of fiddling with the sculpture just that little bit too much in the forlorn hope of going home to eat something. I'll bring a golf analogy in here as I think one is needed as they don't come past here very often, although I have to add that I hate golf. Sculpture fiddling as us "land art profeshkneealls" call it is like being two foot from the hole and putting twelve feet past it. In your desperation to get it right you fiddle past the point of no return and make a mess of what was nearly finished. It's like driving 1000 miles only to turn off one junction early and getting lost. Faint and light-headed as I was and desperate to go home and do the washing up, I really needed to get this finished but I also needed to get it right too.

So I fiddled and fiddled and fiddled and as I write this I am still not sure if I over or under fiddled or reached fiddler perfection. The photos are still downloading and none so far are any good and what's more I still haven't done the washing up. So if the photos are rubbish you won''t even get to read this and then I will have to eat off of dirty plates tonight. No-one realises that all this stuff goes on. I'll bet you look at a picture and go "ooh that's nice" but you have no inkling of the trials I have to go through to get that picture. Missing breakfast, rolling out golf analogies when I don't even like gof and eating off dirty plates. Really, you lot have it sooooo easy. ;-)

There is a riddle for the locals here. The place the spore is positioned is well known to me and putting it there is a sign of things to come.

Super Spore, originally uploaded by escher (waiting for Autumn).

This new film chronicles the Leaves & Light series that I followed in Spring and early Summer this year.

Thanks to Orb Gettarr for the excellent music. The two tracks are Crystalline Lattice and Meditation One. You should really check out their site, there are some superb tracks on there for the ambient aficionado.