Armstrong Beach QLD, August 2011.
Just a beachwalk and a random pattern. It looked like a Tolkien map of the Shire, and it looked like Aboriginal art. This moment has already become a slice of dreamtime to me.
When I was a student and we read Caedmon's Hymn and Beowulf I got fascinated by the cosmic notions of the Anglo Saxons and the world picture of the Dark Ages
Se Middangeard - under heofones hrof.
Maps have fascinated me ever since I was a child and became aware of travelling distances.
Dit is it wurk jong! As wie it fanút e himel wei, sa kinsto yn ien eachopslach it hele ryk oersjen: grinzen, djippen, stêden.
A slice of Dreamtime
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.
[TS Eliot, Burnt Norton]