Fields : a talk by Emma Bush
In the winter months a series of fields are visited, often at twilight. The fields lie in the Westcountry in a village named Harbertonford. In this presentation you are invited to come and see something of what happend there. In the fields lies a promise, a stillness, a pause for reflection with the impermanence of things, the myth of stability and the longing for 'home' A green space, a bounded space. The quietness of fields. A kind of slumber associated with field, country, empty space. to be still there; to stop and notice. To attempt to get close, to be immersed in field. The uniform colour of 'field' from a distance gives the impression of a completeness. Field; contained within itself. A sofness of field; of lying down and touching the grass. Of falling to sleep and looking at clouds. Seeing close up and faraway. Standing alone watching the light change, a rook flies over on its way to roost, across the valley a line of houses nestles into the hill. The sun illuminates their bright colours as it leaves the sky, blue smoke rises from the chimney in the middle of the line. |
