With the sea coming and going relentlessly against rocks, pebbles and the granite fortresses of men, the coastal edge close up is a potent place for me.
Recently I have placed small sculptures and carvings, drawings too, into the sea at this edge and photographed them. This quickly became part of an old myth - the birth of Venus - though perhaps only more flotsam and jetsam in there with the rest
.
I lost two small carvings sucked away on an undercurrent - as if the sea thought this might be an interesting game to play - a ritual in the making, perhaps… This is how things begin with me - quietly and without any great intention or mystery, like something subversive has slipped in covertly through the back door. I was reminded too of how Braque would take his small paintings out into a field, place them in some ploughed furrow to see how they would hold up.