Snapshots from Summer
Avebury Stone Circle
The campfire smoke hangs heavy in the still, summer air. The Neolithic standing stones slice skywards: sentinels of time past, time present. For some of those there, under the growing starlight, a thought is beginning to form. It settles and takes root: a sense of a great expanse of time, our presence in its cosmic arc.
At the coast, the sudden rush of excitement as clifftop turns to rushing air, turns to cool ocean water whipped by a summer breeze. Shrieks of happiness drift out over its glistening surface. Is this what life is like? they wonder. It can be.
Tate Modern, London
In the whirl and hum of the big city, energy abounds. Oil on canvas motions to them; forms emerge amongst the crowd; the witness becomes the show. The passers-by stop passing by, stop and stare. The moment hangs, like a lull between the gusts on a windy day. The shapely forms now fluid once more. The passers-by keep passing by. The moment drifts away, it is not forgotten.
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