Tuesday, 12 October 2010

(18) Dun Carloway


‘Names are a legacy.’

- Ian Stephen, ‘Versed in Vessels: An appreciation of Ian Hamilton Finlay’s fleet’, in Chapman, no.78-9 (1994)

‘A lot of my work is to do with straightforward affection (liking, appreciation), and it always amazes me how little affection for ANYTHING there is in art today.’

- Ian Hamilton Finlay, from a letter to Ian Stephen (1994)

Our ferry at Tsukinowa is sailing with Ian in El Vigo, and travelling the Pentland Road in Jon’s blue Berlingo

Our remains of Sato Shoji’s castle is Dun Carloway, on the Isle of Lewis

Our family graves is Dalmore cemetery

Our the first of Satsuki is the last day of September

An Lanntair


18 Ken introduces P6 to ‘Topiary Aircraft Carrier’
Jon Macleod, 2010

I’m in Stornoway to run school workshops around the exhibition at An Lanntair, Ian Hamilton Finlay: Sailing Dinghy. I’m working with artist Jon Macleod, and together we work with pupils in the gallery, in schools, and on beaches. Finlay had a fondness for the poetry of fishing-boat names, and the unnamed sailing dinghy which forms the centrepiece of the exhibition gives scope to the kids to come up with their own names for it – here’s a selection.

the Achilles
the Big Red
the Caranoch
the Dragonfly
the Mermaid
the Pearl
the Pride of Gress
the Sea Skimmer
the Star of Coll
the Vatisker
the Zoom

Finlay ‘rhymed’ fishing-boats with lemons in many works – a visual, rather than a sound, rhyme, and on the last day we give the kids lemons to name, and launch them with much glee at the beach.


18 Names for lemons (‘Brown Sails’, ‘Pearl’, ‘Spear Fish’), Stornoway Primary School, September 2010
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Stornoway Bay


18 Stornoway Harbour, boats
Ken Cockburn, 2010


18 El Vigo & Lews Castle
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Clouds have cleared and it’s a fine bright autumn afternoon. Ian Stephen has suggested a sailing trip, but the only problem is there’s next to no wind. I board El Vigo across Kaylana, moored for a repaint, with James, who lives on the top floor of Ian’s harbourside house, and we engine out from the quayside.


18 Ian Stephen on El Vigo
Ken Cockburn, 2010


18 Arnish Yards, Stornoway
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Once we’re out in the bay Ian and James raise the sails. Today’s drink of choice is cider, which I haven’t tasted for years. I’m allocated the tiller, told to steer towards the Arnish yard’s landmark green, and as we get closer what I feel as a slight breeze on my cheeks fills the sails enough to get us moving. We pass the big blue CalMac freight ferry MV Muirneag, and a few smaller vessels, even pick up a bit of speed.


18 Stornoway Bay
Ken Cockburn, 2010


18 MV Muirneag
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Turning, the boats slows, but we repass the Muirneag, and watch a group of young seagulls gathered hopefully around a seal who’s surfaced with a fish he eats showily, seeming to enjoy the attention. We’ve just about enough behind us to inch our way back to the quayside where we started. . Ian’s off to a meeting, despite the clement weather I’m chilled, and lightheaded from the cider, and James steers the boat back to her berth.


Ken Cockburn, 2010

Dalmore


18 Dalmore cemetery
Ken Cockburn, 2010

After the morning workshop at An Lanntair with kids from Carloway and Brager primaries, Jon Macleod and I drive west along the Pentland Road, and wait by the cemetery above Dalmore beach for the school coach. Jon’s an artist, works part-time at An Lanntair on the education programme, is just back from Finland where he hooked up with Gerry Loose and Kirsty Law. Surfers emerge from a van, wet-suited and boarded. We wonder future archaeologist-anthropologists ignorant of surfing might make of the sight – a woman in a tight-fitting black suit and matching head-piece carrying a white board slightly smaller than herself, followed by two men also with boards and wetsuits but bare-headed, one bushy-haired and the other quite bald. You’d surely read some sort of intent into that last detail, wouldn’t you?


18 Sand surfer
Ken Cockburn, 2010

We spend an hour with the kids happily making circles and sand-poems and sand-drawings – though Adam writes too close to the water’s edge and, despite the fact the tide’s going out, loses his poem to a wave. What did it say, I ask, and he replies, I can’t remember. Nothing beside remains…


18 Adam’s lost poem
Ken Cockburn, 2010

The kids depart and Jon drives me to Dun Carloway, then heads off to see his ex nearby, whose father died last week. Jon sat at the wakes, and attended Monday’s funeral.

Dun Carloway


18 Carloway broch
Ken Cockburn, 2010


18 hokku-label (windblown west coast cousin)
(‘windblown west coast cousin / to Telve and Troddan / the Valley boys’, KC)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

The broch’s similar in size and shape to those at Glenelg, but alone, and higher, and with a view, and covered in a film of pale-green lichen, with the odd patch of vibrant yellow.


18 Broch lichen
Ken Cockburn, 2010

There are visitors – a serious photographer, couples in outdoor gear, a German-speaking family whose dialect’s mostly lost on me. I sit inside the wall out of the wind drinking a Japanese black tea, himifuuki.


18 Broch interior
Ken Cockburn, 2010

It’s climbable too – famously so, as when in the 16th century Donald Cam Macauley climbed the broch to smoke out a party of Morrison cattle raiders who had taken refuge in the ruin. Less calamitously the German boy scrambles up the side, excitedly helloes his mother, Gruss Gott! When they leave, there’s silence, or something like it, for the gate-spring’s broken, but the sound only emphasises solitude and absence.


[18 hokku-label (inside the wind drops)]
(‘inside the wind drops / but the gate still / keeps banging on about it’, KC)
Ken Cockburn, 2010


18 hokku-label
(‘the German visitors have gone / the boy who climbed / to the very top / is just a memory’, KC)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

In the centre of the drystone circle I libate and drink Aberlour, for the builders, look to place another hokku-label, and a second poem of the day is lost, this time to a gust of wind, but I’ve managed to record it first.


18 hokku-label
(‘empty horizon / heroics long forgotten / rock and brown bracken’, KC)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

I walk up to a cairn on a knoll and look west to sea and the blank horizon.


18 Cairn & Atlantic horizon
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Down in the carpark I see the blue Berlingo. As Jon enjoys the himifuuki he points out the ramshead gatepost on the new house below the broch. The visitor centre blends into the landscape, the house is plonked down on top of it.


18 Ramshead gatepost, Carloway
Ken Cockburn, 2010

The Big Field

Returning we stop at Achmore, one of the few inland villages on Lewis. An Ach More just means The Big Field, a wry take on the expanse of moorland stretching more miles in each direction. Thirty years ago peat-cutting revealed a stone circle, though all but two of the stones have (been) toppled over, and some are missing.


18 Toppled stone in peat, Achmore
Ken Cockburn, 2010

The view south reminds me of North Uist, and Langais in particular, a patchwork of lochs, a small forest, the moor rising gradually to higher hills, though here you see further. In the car Jon pointed out Sleeping Beauty, a range of hills like a recumbent figure – an outcrop just the right shape and scale forms a nose that gives the notion legs, as it were, and the information board points out that only from the Achmore stone circle does the hill range look like a pregnant woman. It’s where we’ll head tomorrow – to Harris, Seilebost on the west coast, and Rhenigadale on the east.


18 View S from Achmore
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Coda – The Little Seamstress

The exhibition Ian Hamilton Finlay: Sailing Dinghy at An Lanntair includes the print The Little Seamstress – a drawing of a sailing boat whose wake looks like a seam. Here’s a photo of a motorised seamstress, working the Kyles Scalpay a few years ago.


Homage to IHF
Ken Cockburn, 2004

(KC)

intimations

Ian Stephen is a writer and artist from the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides. His latest work is a collaborative exhibition, 'Is a thing lost if we know where it is?', exploring the relationship between the tradtional boats of Lewis and Orkney.

An Lanntair Arts Centre, Stornoway, Western Isles - a beacon for the Arts in the Highlands and Islands

Explore The Isle of Lewis - an online guide

National Galleries of Scotland - Ian Hamilton Finlay

Historic Scotland - guide to Dun Carloway

Friday, 8 October 2010

(40) Berneray


‘everytime I visit
I’m gifted something new'

– after Ryokan

Our Sakata is Lochmaddy

Our Hokuroku district is South Harris

Our Nezu Barrier and Ichiburi Barrier are the causeways linking Benbecula, Grimsay, North Uist, and Berneray

Our Sado, dimly seen, is St Kilda, dimly seen

Our Heaven’s Stream is stars & beacons seen on a stormy night

Sado–St Kilda

Symbolically the farthest station on Basho’s ginko road is defined by the view towards the isle of Sado dim on the horizon – isle of gold, of exile, of lovers – where he sees deep into the stellar distances.

Basho’s hokku

rough as the sea is
reaching over to Sado
the Heaven’s star stream

Basho, tr. Cid Corman

wild as the seas fetch
from Berneray to St Kilda’s
all Milky Way

ver. AF

no one sees us
alone out here
among the stars

var. after Brian Eno

40 Sado (map)
Alec Finlay, 2010

(AF)

Berneray

‘that muddied turquoise
across from stolen mountains
mist, gale together’

Ian Stephen, ‘On Berneray’

40 Eck, Gatliff Trust Hostel, Berneray
mid 1990s

A hostel’s as close as we’ll get or ever want to be to Big Brother, even if it is a gleaming white Gatliff Trust thatched croft. This is a reunion with the island I know best. Every summer I used to come to Berneray, but it’s been 8 years, so I have that odd feeling of not knowing what’s changed, wondering if Annie and Jessie, the elderly sisters who saw to the hostel, are still alive. They were the spirit of the place; kind, gently teasing, knitting woollens – socks £2 a pair, though I’d try to bargain them up to a higher price – spreads of pancakes, scones and strawberry jam. You’d see them, 2 windbent figures in faded blue Macs, herding the sheep with their handbags. Their farm had a flock of 100 or so, and even in their 70s they saw to the shearing themselves, with hand clippers.

40 Annie & Jessie's house
Ken Cockburn, 2010

As girls Annie & Jessie can recall Seton Gordon, and my gran, Catriona, camping down on the beach. That would be in the mid 1930s. Because the hostel’s magic attracts so many, there are folk all over the world who fondly recall their lilting refrain, very good, very good. I take Ken down their track, and we knock at the door and window, do a circuit of the house. No answer. Are they both gone then? There’s Annie at the window, asking who it is? She opens the door but won’t let us in as the place isn’t put right and she’s nothing to give us. So she sits in her chair by the door, and we stand and chat. Jessie died a year past April; she misses her very much. And Angus too has gone away now. No, she can’t knit any more because my hands shake. She asks am I not married yet? When we leave we get a sweetie each from the tin.

40 hokku-label
(‘Jessie's gone / Angus has left us / Annie sits with us / at her door’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

The bog-cotton, ‘cannach’, hangs in tufts. One high midsummer all of us in the hostel took a vow and dispensed with timepieces, living off the light which stretched its shining hands around the clock. Hostel life has a rhythm, as each wee party sorties out on their anti-clockwise journey around the island, returning sunglown with tales of Sado and seals.

the sea’s the colour
of seal

diluted with cloud
and light

Grey though it is, there’s a pearl gleam to the west. I’ve another elegy to record: pausing at the spot where we made love, sheltered in the dunes, the West Beach recalls Kirsty, gone now, laughing then – throwing her trousers at me when I snapped her after a swim, wearing nothing but one of Annie & Jessie’s aquamarine seaweed knit jumpers.

40 Kirsty
Alec Finlay, mid 1990s

It was here, on this beach, I composed my second ever poem, and then had to say it to myself, over and over, on the walk back to my pen at the hostel.

West Beach (Berneray, Harris)

The machair flowers
like so many stars

I'm walking home
through the Universe.


40 circle poem (braiding Harris Tweed)
for Chris and Roger
Alec Finlay, 2010

That afternoon I was followed on the road by a collie from one of the farms. I kept ordering it home; it kept following me away from the farm. Then I met the ferryman, who explained this dog only understood Gaelic, and sent her fleeing off with a single command.


40 circle poem (curlew)
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 hokku-label, Berneray
(‘Ken says the shag / isn’t fishing / just diving’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 hokku-label, Berneray
(‘grey front / passes between us // and Fiskavaig redces / Harris to a dark rumour’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

(AF)

Berneray, Saturday

Those times are exchanged for this time.

40 ('SING PLACE', AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 circle poem
(‘hands hold the winds open’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Ken says goodbye to Rebecca and Paul who leave for India and New Zealand in a few weeks, collects Eck from Lochmaddy’s Old Courthouse – where he’s been sleeping, but not in the cells – and we head north for the Berneray causeway, but find another on the way.

40 Sora strikes a rocking stone
Alec Finlay, 2010

40 Dun an Sticir, North Uist
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Dun an Sticir’s our first water-protected dun, recycled as medieval fortified residence, approached across a causeway partly underwater – the causeways were narrower than they are today, and sometimes included a ‘rocking stone’, which could alert the occupants of the broch to unwelcome visitors. We arrive as a party of cyclists depart, their silhouettes doing a crazy walk over the causeway like an early Madness video. Soon we discover why: there are many ‘rocking stones’. Barney and Eck get soakings. Seven swans glide warily on the loch.

40 Berneray hostel
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 Berneray hostel
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 by Berneray hostel
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 by Berneray hostel
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Arriving at The Hostel, Berneray, we choose ‘Honeymoon Suite’, with a view to Leverburgh and Roineabhal: rather that than ‘Shady Corner’ (by the loo) or ‘Penthouse Suite’ (by the kitchen). An open-air range quietly rusts in the nearby ruin, while some campers have brought their own central heating. (Overnight the gale blew smoke back into the tent, so like any system it’s not foolproof.)

40 East Beach
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 shell-line
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 fourteens (cockles)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 Avantgarde campers
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Walking down the beach, we revive the shell-cult, do some fourteens for Isobel, and pass a visiting avantgarde (and we so thought we were it). Then four gunshots.


40 hokku-label, Berneray
(‘4 shots ring out / we pass him with a brace / of geese in each hand’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 Loch Bhrusda
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 silage bales & geese, Loch Brusda
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 circle poem (swans & geese)
Alec Finlay, 2010

A drive past Cnoc na Greine brings us to the N. end of Loch Bhrusda, and we cross the machair, Maol Bhàn, to the west beach, where we write in the sand – not quite a new form, but one we begin to refine. We trace memorials for Sado, and The Princess Forest that once grew between here, Harris and St Kilda, and Eck adds another for Poppy, David Connearn’s dog, who once heroically tried to herd these waves.

40 Basho, composing sand-verses, West Beach
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 sand-poem, West Beach, i.m. Poppy
(‘Poppy tends the turning tide’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 sand-poem, West Beach
(‘80 years back / the last boats / sailed east’, KC)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 sand-poem, West Beach
(‘arrow tip gannet tip’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 sand-poem, West Beach
(‘ash / oak / wash / soak’ (1), AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 sand-poem, West Beach
(‘ash / oak / wash / soak’ (2), AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 sand-poem, The Princess Forest, West Beach
(‘midwave / a deep forest’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 sand-poem, West Beach, after Basho
(‘seeing clouds above Hokuriku’, KC)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

40 sand-poem, West Beach, after Basho
(‘star stream’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 sand-poem, The Princess Forest, West Beach
(‘when will / the princess / return from / the hunt?’, KC)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

On the road back we stop at the Lobster-Pot tearoom with its own Met. Office.

40 FORECASTING STONE
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Back at Baile the hostel kitchen’s humming with activity. A group of twentysomethings, mainly Scottish voices but all up from London, are gearing up for Lochmaddy’s nightlife but first have a whole cooked lobster to butcher and eat. Ken improvises with modest ingredients – leeks, cabbage, red lentils and sun-dried tomatoes, and produce a good stew he’ll happily make again, ceremonially washed down with Mac Na Mara anda pot of the Tea of Life. The lasses go for a swim.

the swimming’s OK
once you go through
the cold

swimsuits & giggles
doesn’t make them
courtesans

(AF, KC)


Berneray, Sunday


40 Berneray Circular Walk
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Breakfast is cold stew, chocolate gingers, Roibois. I’m happy enough, though slightly envious of the London-Scottish’s scallops and scrambled eggs.

From the hostel we head north as yesterday, along the beach road past Annie’s place, then following the path uphill at the old MacInnes croft, towards the island burial ground. We’re luffing into a strong north-westerly.

billows

this wind just blows me away
light breaks in at the curtains
its noise is all its own
taking it all round
from top to toe
you’ll wear me out, you
says the beach to the sea

(AF, with a nod to Boswell)

The boundary wall’s yellow-lichened, inside windblown grass, but other than a few nettles the moor’s kept out. Many small unshaped unmarked stones, of those shaped and carved some lost in lichen, others (slate or granite) unmarked by it. Often English text and Gaelic scripture. Nothing recent.


40 Burial Ground
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 Burial Ground wall
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 Burial Ground, shoemaker's gravestone
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 grave rubbing
Alec Finlay, 2010

Climbing Beinn Shleibhe, a modest 93m + constant breeze. A young German man who’d sat quietly by himself last night reading Tolkein's Two Towers joins us at the trig point. We share tea. From the trig the West Beach looks like a pie crust with the rollers spume for cream. The Shiants are NE, but NW there’s no Sado, only Haskeir, which isn’t the gabbro stack of Hirta, St Kilda.


40 Sora & Barno, Berneray
Alec Finlay, 2010


40 hokku-label, Berneray
(‘marram gives to the wind / thistles resists till ready / to offer up down’, KC)
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 sand-poem, West Beach
(‘Sado is on every horizon’, AF)
Alec Finlay, 2010


40 sand-poem, West Beach
(‘ST KILDA / SADO’, AF)
Alec Finlay, 2010


40 (‘SADO’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

(AF, KC)


Berneray, West Beach

Matsushima ya
ay Matsushima ya
Matsushima ya

Basho

Berneray –
aye Berneray
Berneray!

ver. AF


40 Walking oku file
Alec Finlay, 2010

We descend oku-style, single file, poet-dog-poet, into a seastrong wind, down to the beach, Pabbay in sun across the sound, Caolas Phabaigh (not Boreray as Eck’s sand circle poem has it). Ken finds a sheltered spot in the dunes to catch his breath and write a hokku-label. Eck sits on rocks and decides to stay thereabouts.

40 circle poem (counting waves)
Alec Finlay, 2010

Ken’s circuit

I walk on letting flotsam & jetsam catch my eye, thinking they'd be good bases for hokku-labels but sometimes, like Basho, no way to keep up writing.


40 jetsam, West Beech
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 jetsam, West Beach
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 jetsam, West Beach
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 jetsam, West Beach
Ken Cockburn, 2010

I lunch in the dunes, sheltered but grains of sand carry on to me. Lie back and doze a while, find I’ve composed a hokku-label for the lobster-creel, as Eck does likewise elsewhere.


40 hokku-label, West Beach
(‘wind-lull / sun full / sand-hull / sleep pull’, KC)
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 hokku-label, West Beach
(‘beached creel / still dreams of lobsters / blue beneath the waves’, KC)
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 hokku-label, Berneray
(‘wanted / wan lapster-felly / fir da pot’, AF)
Alec Finlay, 2010

Wanting respite from the wind and to get my bearings I cross dunes to machair. Fail latterly but succeed formerly and enjoy the quiet that distance from breakers brings.


40 hokku-label, Berneary
(‘rough as the ocean is / reaching over to St Kilda / machair flowers / flowering stars’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 Macaskill monument
Ken Cockburn, 2010

I reach almost the SW corner of the island, pasture for sheep and cattle, and the monument to Angus Macaskill the orange map declines to note – known as the Nova Scotia giant (1825–1861) he was born here, stood 7 feet nine inches in height without pathological defect, and is remembered as a kindly and just man and a humble Christian.


40 chair stone
Ken Cockburn, 2010


40 bog cotton, Cnoc Bhuirgh
Ken Cockburn, 2010

Back along road and by fence to the chair stone, lopsided and black. Look for the marked cairn and souterrain among the many scattered rocks and boulders but discern nothing made. I cross pasture between grazing cattle raising a snipe at a clear watercressed stream, then climb over rock and heather to the windy top of Cnoc Bhuirgh. Rocks and a pool where bog-cotton thrives.

I cut down to the road and meet up with the German again. On Loch a Bhaigh he’s spotted three seals where they love to sunbathe on the rocks. With his company the last leg seems to speed up.

At the hostel the tide’s out exposing sandbanks and rocks, beginning with the outline of an S shaped wall that comes and goes with the tide, Eck says is the remains of a Viking harbour. Beyond are what Ian Stephen calls 2 ‘fixed greens’: navigation beacons marking the narrow channel for fishing-boats. And beyond, at low tide, a wide spit of sand that extends all the way to the skerry of Bhaiteam.


40 hokku-label, Viking Harbour, Baile, Berneray
(‘sand / strand // green) / (green // rock / crook’, AF)
Ken Cockburn, 2010

(KC)


Eck’s return


40 Sado buoy
Alec Finlay, 2010


40 Basho, Sado
Angharad Closs Stephens, 2010

My shorter slower route, round the skirts of Beinn Ghainche, puts the wind behind me. The whole way I marveled at the gannets rise and fall as they span around the island on a turquoise carousel, just for badness it seemed, as little fishing went on. One visit I watched Simon, an artist from London, pencil sketch every bird species on the island into the hostel log.


40 hokku-label, West Beach, Berneray
(‘the / gannets // cut / waves // both / ways’, AF)
Alec Finlay, 2010

birds in the north
black & white, shades

of grey and a flare
or pipe of orange


40 ME74
Alec Finlay, 2010

From land every sea horizon has a Sado of it’s own. Looking out on the little islands of the Sound of Harris – Grodhaigh, Lingeigh, Sgarabhaigh, Sgeir Chruaidh, Eilean Bhacam, Ceileagraigh, Ensay – and over to Macleaod’s Table on Skye, I tried to pick out a location for each of the flashing beacons I’d seen flashing at 4am the night before, in a gale that cowped a tent or two heilster-gowdie, when Barno had an accident that’s best passed over in silence.


40 Barno casts a shadow
Alec Finlay 2010


40 Basho casts a shadow
Alec Finlay, 2010

(AF)


If wishes were thistles

When we left Jon & Ali at Kingussie they were just about to pack the tent and head back to Berneray where, the island being treeless, they left us this wish.


40 wish, thistle, Berneray
Thomson & Craighead, 2010

The wish being such a potent form – as Ali said, being there always, even after it’s gone – I’ve sent out a few for other people’s trees. This is the first record to arrive back, having found a Bashoesque home.


40 wish, Japanese cherry blossom tree
Ali Bowden, 2010

And then this wish which a close reader tied to a holly among apples, in the Dean allotments, Edinburgh.

(AF)


Caroline’s Coda

And these 2 photos from Caroline Dear’s visit to Berneray show what happens to our labels after flapping about for a few weeks in Hebridean climes.




40 Berneray
Caroline Dear, 2010

Tomohiko’s Coda

The e-post also brings in new artworks by Tomohiko Ogawa, collaging together Japan and Scotland.




40 flat ridge (Five Sister, Kintail, Loch Duich)
Tomohiko Ogawa, 2010


40 flatridge (Mt. Nantai, Nikko)
Tomohiko Ogawa, 2010

intimations

Gatliff Hebridean Hostels Trust works with islanders to establish and maintain a chain of Crofters' Hostels to sound basic standards throughout the Hebrides. It aims to provide hostellers with the opportunity to get to know the communities, their language and culture, the scenery and natural environment of the islands.

the Isle of Bernaray - an online guide.

visual artists Jon thomson and Alison Craighead (Thomson & Craighead) have rpoduced works such as Flat Earth (2007) and The Time Machine in Alphabetical Order (2010), a complete rendition of the 1960's film version of HG Wells Novella re-edited by us into alphabetical order from beginning to end.


Coda

barefoot steps
on acorns
dog walking

Tomohiko Ogawa, 2010