I stroll out when the veil between this and that is thin. A bridge from darkness to light. I follow paths carved by those before in the grass that is both verdant and bronze thatch. Watching my feet rhythmically trace earth flattened by footsteps long gone, mesmerised by the...
Following a Golden String
I give you the end of a golden string;Only wind it into a ball:It will lead you in at Heaven’s gate,Built in Jerusalem’s wall. ‘Jerusalem’ – William Blake The work and thoughts here are part of my MA in Artist Teacher Practice at Oxford Brookes. I am currently pursuing...