Early humans would arrange rocks in places where they encountered gods, creating stacks, circles, towers. They piled whatever was around, that would last the seasons, to mark trails. In Iceland, cairns remain today from Vikings of the 9th century, geometrically piled high so the horses could see them over the snow drifts. Or maybe the custom came from the Celtic tradition of the Irish slaves the Vikings had brought with them. The Scottish used the stone heaps as landmarks and burial monuments. They were built for astrological, ceremonial and hunting purposes. Seafarers used cairns for navigating long before lighthouses entered the equation.
The markers of the past were practical, in present they seem mystical. As if a fossil can tell us the history of where they are found and how they got there according to their sequencing. There is narrative in layers, of time imprinted like an ancient fossilized wing, a previous existence trapped in its surroundings. Geologists call this stratification, almost a complete confession of the past below, compounded below the surface.
Materials have an autobiography, how they behave is shown over time in their construction. The build up, the layers, time is of the essence and the manipulator of form for function. Adaptation is key and failure is nearly irrelevant because things adjust. Even in death or obsolescence, things transform, never fully extinct or evaporated. Just adjusted. Maybe turned relic.
Amplifying the symbolic potential, a visual vocabulary for the wreath is born out of a surrealist proclivity for a startling juxtaposition. Female imagery, witchy, empowered and rightfully Vitruvian as woman is self examined relation to each other.
Reanimation. Miracles of nature being lost. Is nature cursed? The summer solstice is the official launch date of Chanctonbury rings, according to a Sussex archaeology and folklore, you can see the fairies dancing in the Ring on Midsummer Eve as well as UFO’s flying overhead. Not to keep bringing up the Icelandic, but they believe you can roll around with elves on the moss this night as well. One must walk around in a circle, contrary to the sun’s course, considered unlucky, seven times around the ring.
35mm photographs along the shores of Lake Michigan