for a while our eldest son at the age of three, collected stones in his mouth; he would wander off into the garden, potter about and eventually return to me with a mischievous look in his eyes; ' spit it out,' was all I had to say and he had a small offering for me: a stone he placed in the palm of my hand straight from his mouth; I collected them, until one day he stopped. The stones rested in a mug, gathering dust and then one day, while working on a mosaic, I suddenly saw that they were meant to be stuck all together like a mosaic, and that is what i did, onto a bit of wood that was lying around. hi Grace , do you think this could be a cairn?
Hi, I'm an artist.
' Art might simply be the awareness of how we might create self. That we do. What happens, and then, what we do about it. The story. And the expression of that.' Jude Hill - Spirit Cloth [with kind permission]