Andy Marshall's Genius Loci Digest: 15 Nov 2024
Woody’s getting on a bit, but I’ll carry on using this beloved van for as long as I can—to keep that flicker alive, to be a small candle in the dark.
This digest revels in the in-between, the transitional, the presence of absence. My camera with its dials and knobs and sharp focus has taken me into the blur of things. It has taught me that because things can't be measured it doesn't mean that it isn't there. The spirit of things, the essence of our places is as real as my shutter button.
Woody’s getting on a bit, but I’ll carry on using this beloved van for as long as I can—to keep that flicker alive, to be a small candle in the dark.
The climb to the castle heights takes me from the market's hustle and bustle to the whistle of the wind through the ramparts. With every metre gained in height, the clamour below gradually evaporates.
My story, now unfolding, was filled with renewed perspective and purpose.
And so, in a café in Howden, through the portal of the final page of my little black sketchbook, I begin to see the world as it truly is.
The light is a blessing today, John - the magnificent and ruinous east end is rising above the rooftops.
It’s remarkable how, when we take the time to look closely, we can sense the spirit or zeitgeist behind an object. For me, it feels like time travel—an opening into the mind of the artist who crafted it.
This is not a place to rush through or tick off a bucket list. It is a place that rewards patience, a place to linger when others hurry past. To be here is to step into a world where time folds in on itself, where the genius loci appears to those willing to invest their time.
Relief washes over me—something new to explore, a welcome distraction from the mental clutter of the morning’s news.
And there are rumours that the synchronicity that sprang from the Roman temple inspired the medieval scholar Alcuin to build the Alma Sophia (Holy Wisdom) here.