Walking Commentary
Thoughts while waiting to walk from Manchester to Rome in 2022
This chapbook series started during a time when our movement was restricted to 5 km from home. Here, on the suburban coast of south County Dublin, two thirds of that area is offshore.
Texture is a part of every sense in your sensorium.
Sometimes an adverb is enough, as illustrated by poet Diarmuid Fitzgerald:
in the marshes
without my map –
joyously lost
Thames Way: haiku and tanka (Alba, 2015, page 27)
As a reflection seismologist, I spent four decades reducing sound echoes into visualisations of rock formations long buried from view.
As a photographer, I seek to capture incidents that might not otherwise be seen.
As a rambler, I try to emulate reflections: they leave no trace.
“The most important question we must ask ourselves is, ‘Are we being good ancestors?’”- Jonas Salk
One square kilometre of water bounded by some 1.5 million cubic metres of hewn rock, Dún Laoghaire Harbour was the the largest man-made harbour when the world popultion reached 1 billion.
My idea for Quarried could be described as a series of exploded views of the one scene, mirroring the way the rock itself was excavated. The harbour in Dun Laoghaire, for example, needed to be visible since the gap in which it would appear was what it was made from. The two harbour piers and that of the South Bull Wall were made from the now absent prominence, a hill that was once higher than anything that survives today. The South Bull was also
