Field note 1: Island ∼ Pond
Image: Brynjar Bandlien, 2016
Do the rhythms of islands offer a feeling of isolation or freedom?
Who and what might be attracted to a pond?
What is the ‘passage’ between island and pond?
What is the hope, happiness and trauma of the pond and sea?
Ask anyone to take a sheet of paper and to draw an island as seen from the air. Most likely, that person would draw a stylized image of a piece of land, without much detail other than being surrounded by water. It would fit within the space confines of the sheet. It would also, uncannily, have an approximately circular shape. ∼ G. Baldacchino, 2005
Ask the person to now do the same with a pond in mind. It would probably look very much like the island, though turned inside out and, most likely, taking less space on the sheet. Then ask the drawer; what is the ‘passage’ between ‘island’ and ‘pond’. ∼ Who or what could best answer this question; an adult or a child, a frog, a glacier or a giant kelp forest? Or a tiny shoe washed upon a beach on the greek island of Fourni in the North East Aegean Sea.
This cryptic task, speculative and ambiguous in character, will probably be virtually impossible to fathom with any degree of certitude. Amphibious Trilogies probes this question tenta(c)tively, on a 1:1 scale (the landscape as it’s own map¹) and from a 360°perspective, on-and alongside the water. We are speaking in tongues of the Motion of the Ocean, and of all sorts of littoral landscapes where water and land mingle in slippery, sedimentary and shape-shifting liaisons.
¹ Something like as described in the first chapter of ‘Towards a Lexicon of Usership‘, Steven Wright, 2013