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Commentary

My concept was that these stones were mid-points in a journey and not a final destination. Also, they were places of decision or choice – to go one way or another. And I got a great feeling of the past meeting up with the present and future – the original stone draws us to the past while the new stone would hopefully point to the future.

From the first drawings sent by Joanne (and there were many over a short period of time) I recognized a language within the markings – a kind of hieroglyphic or cipher that the viewer would interpret as the markings touched them. There were also subtle directions almost as if the stone was a map for the future. Within these she had positioned the few lines that we had agreed to use so that the viewer would need to walk round the stone and inter-react with it. - James Caruth

Read the poem
Read the poem
Read the poem
Read the poem


A procession of cars twists

up through the hills, each one

intent on God knows where.

Each one searching

for a reference, an anchorage

in an ocean of heather.


Rest a while,

you drovers and jaggers,

unhitch your load. Look back

from where you’ve come,

the old paths lost now

in the valley’s folds,

the fraught sky tethered to a stone.


This place is neither here nor there,

but set your hand on its gritty heart,

feel the earth’s cold pulse.

For every path will lead you

to somewhere you have yet to name.

So choose,

the road out, or the long road home.