.
Fragile heat, March sun
Morning frost fizzle melt
Spring threads of creeper
– sprung, in
Lip of light
and shadow play
≈ .
F i z z z z z z l e s
of morning frost
≈≈≈
Now playing: Tristan Perich: Surface Image (performed by Vicky Chow).
Murdo Eason - From Hill to Sea
walking / writing / between world and word
.
Ink etched blue silence. Cold harbour spires, sketched over cubist sails. Thorn pinned birds still tethered. Wings opening, sensing the sky
…
.
The ruined pier at Crombie Point. (January, 2017).
Jules Verne travelled to Scotland for the first time in 1859. He arrived at Crombie Point on 30th August, following a three-day exploration of Edinburgh.
Verne along with his traveling companion and old school friend, Aristide Hignard, had boarded the steamship The Prince of Wales at Granton Harbour earlier in the morning. The ship sailed up the Firth of Forth passing Aberdour, Queensferry, Rosyth, Blackness Castle and Charlestown with Verne recounting tales of historical events associated with the coastal landmarks. Approaching Crombie Point, the weather turned violently against them with high winds and waves proving too strong for the steamship to moor at the pier. Verne and Hignard managed to transfer into a smaller sail boat to reach the landing stage safely but very wet. They were met by the Reverend William Smith, from Oakley, who ushered them into the nearby Black Anchor Tavern to dry out and take a whisky.
What was once the Black Anchor Tavern, Crombie Point. Now a private house. (January, 2017).
…
Beyond the door-less door. An invitation to enter. What lies beyond the threshold, the scattering of leaves and crouched shadows?
On the ancient whispering walls, the faces start to appear. Language of the stones, silent tongues ….
And on this short stretch of coastal path, the receding tide and dying light coats Torry Bay in an emulsion of gun-metal grey. A vista of colour bleached beauty with a tangible undertow of concealed violence bleeding over the mudflats.
In the middle of Torry Bay you will see witches rock. This rock was used to tie-up and restrain anyone suspected of witchcraft. Here the witches were judged and simultaneously sentenced as the tide rose. If they drowned, they were absolved of being a witch, but if they survived they were deemed to be to be a witch and burned at the stake.
(adapted from heritage interpretation boards located on Torry Bay)
More on the dark history of this short stretch of Fife coastline emerged from the Tales for Travellers Project which we recently participated in:
On Torry Bay the sky appears to expand to a grey cloak as we experience a brief rain shower. It’s a suitable backdrop for Kate Walker to tell us of the dark history of witch hunting along this coast in the seventeenth century. Zealous, self-appointed witch-finders, usually being local clergymen searching for those who had ‘danced with the devil’. They used an armoury of pseudo-scientific techniques to prey on poor, elderly, and vulnerable women, with their use of witch pricking and searching for the devil’s mark. The familiar power structures embedded in organised religion and misogyny. Kate recounted the tragic story of local woman Lilias Adie, buried face down in the mud on the beach, between the high tide and low tide marks as it was outside consecrated ground. Buried neither on land or at sea, huge stone slabs were placed on top of her; a folk remedy for revenants who were suspected of returning from the grave to torment the living.
≈≈≈
Now playing: Ensemble of Irreproducible Outcomes – ‘Trio and Sine Waves (With Wind, Snow, And Birds)’ from Memory and Weather.
Reference:
Ian Thompson, Jules Verne’s Scotland: In Fact and Fiction, (Edinburgh: Luath Press, 2011).
.
Unseen
On the move overhead in the dark, a skein of geese trace elemental songlines. An arc of ancient language: shared, precise, yet never disclosed
.
.
Untranslatable articulations. Dreamtime tracks. Already distant, almost gone. A fading away towards some idea of silence.
≈
At around, 23.04 – 23.05, Saturday 18th February 2017.
.
Settle
.
.
Settled /
.
/ /
.
/ Disperse
.
Dispersed
≈
ice blue hue of early morning / / settled setting of frozen music / / arrowhead stave aimed at the stars / / rhythms inked on starless starlight [ crack crack – cacophony crescendo ] winged chorus sounded in flight / /
settle / / settled / / disperse / / dispersed
still / / stilled / / stillness
At Capernaum Pier, Limekilns. Early morning 21st January 2017.
Now playing: David Cross & Robert Fripp – Starless Starlight
A dream in masonry and living rock
Robert Louis Stevenson
the habit of dreaming and the ability to dream are primordial
Fernando Pessoa
.
adrift
casting a line
to pull down
the stars
.
.
at the threshold
of hearing, sounds
of the city, stored
in the stones
.
.
thought bubble
of the white dove
fractured figments
of translation – PA?
.
.
dazzle me
with dreams
of a kinder
kind of blue
.
.
even electrons
get lost
in the forest
(scratch) —–>
this way
≈≈≈
From a walk through the New Town of Edinburgh on 14th January 2017.
(Edinburgh’s) buildings are dominated by locally quarried sandstone so that the stone-built heritage literally grows out of the bedrock foundations of the city. (McMillan and Hyslop, The City of Edinburgh: Landscape and Stone, 2008).
Now playing: Morton Feldman – Triadic Memories (Steffen Schleiermacher).
Last setting of the light – 2016
Leaves will return
≈
(Saw a kingfisher today, for only the second time, so 2016 has largely redeemed itself).
Best wishes to all in 2017 and thanks for the support, collaboration, discussion and walking. More to come …
Now playing: Anna Thorvaldsdottir – In the Light of Air, performed by the International Contemporary Ensemble (ICE).
To begin the journey, we congregate almost four hundred years after Jonson. In front of the Palace walls, a set of variations in muted ochre, the orange pantile roof catches weak strands of sunlight on this September morning …
≈≈≈
Tales for Travellers and Travellers Tales … walking in the footsteps of Ben Jonson
It was a delight to be part of this wonderful project where we took Ben Jonson out for a walk in September.
Rebecca Crowther has documented the activities of all who took part in a new website which records our nine mile social walk from Culross to Dunfermline. Here you’ll find some background to the project, photographs, a short video, sound recordings of our interactive stops along the way and our own contribution from Murdo Eason.
Some extracts below:
still
s
i
t
t
i
n
g
In a quiet place
I watch the sky
fall to earth.
.
A few leaves
cast adrift, circle
as clouds and trees
slip silently below
the skin of water
≈≈≈
The sock & coulter symbol of the plough. A farmer’s life, turning soil, slowly returning to the land
You can find it all here:
Tales for Travellers and Travellers Tales … walking in the footsteps of Ben Jonson
.
Conflux of cobbles
Walking against
Autumn’s wake
.
.
Deep Time
Shore Line
F r e s c o
.
.
a scattering of jewels
criss-cross streams
of early morning light
.
.
drifting
at the edges
meaning, slipping
away
from the words
.
.
Godot Tree
Waiting
For leaves
To fall
.
Autumn morning / City pastoral
(King’s Stables Road, Edinburgh. Horse and cattle markets were held weekly in this road from 1477 until 1911)
.
Underfoot
the spaces in between
One cracked cobble
.
.
“Several whales have come in upon this coast
Anno 1652, one, eighty feet in length”
Moby Dick (Supplied by a Sub-Sub-Librarian) – on the Fife coast.
.
.
No still life:
Foraging wasps, drunk
on autumnal colour
.
.
Always good to head for a higher perspective. On the way, counsel from the elephant wood shaman.
.
.
Towards the brow of the hill:
a wind blown tree;
an apparition,
forming in the sky
.
.
Always the tracks
of footfall
beyond the now
of time
.
.
Frost already underfoot/ A smothering of darkness/ Celestial lights & the eerie glow of the petrochemical plant/ A heron stalks the shadows
.
Now Playing: Robin Hayward – Stop Time (favourite piece of music of the year).