Andy Marshall's Genius Loci Digest: 13 September 2024
Even though we have the darker nights, this is the time of year when sunrise and sunset bless our waking hours. As the day dissipates into the ether, the atmosphere is often charged with motion
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.
Even though we have the darker nights, this is the time of year when sunrise and sunset bless our waking hours. As the day dissipates into the ether, the atmosphere is often charged with motion
We are birds today. With our hive minds, we are tethered in murmuration - a beautiful synthesis of thought and action.
At Hopwood, where Byron’s feet had trod, lumpy clods of plaster had fallen, making their presence known beneath my soles - prickly protestations at the status quo.
I’m feeling very low. It’s the perfect storm—a toxic cocktail of intersecting events that hits deep into my self-esteem.
All the best things are double-baked—in this case, built and built again. Many of the stones that have held up the walls for over 1,300 years were tooled and carved by the hands of Romans.
The angry cursive is absorbed by the sweeping concord of the subtle and the intangible.
Adam is more than a bookbinder; he is a Time Lord, a guardian of this precious conduit to history, enshrining fragile hooks to the past with a love and dedication that has taken him over 14 years to hone.
I know it all sounds a little odd, and men don’t usually talk about these things, but I feel that what happened to me during that time was miraculous, and miraculous things should be shouted from the rooftops.
Inside the nave, the vaulting is a vast geometry caught in Medusa’s gaze, but here the softened, soapy Caen unfurls fern-like.