Each time I tread this path, I stumble upon something new and return to the ground of my being with every step, pulled deeper into conversation with the land and with Linda who has walked beside me for almost a decade.
I'm reminded of John Muir's immortal phrase, 'as soon as we take one thing by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.' Linda, like Muir, lives in an " infinite storm of beauty." But, unlike him, she doesn't travel far. The skirt of Mount Caburn above Glynde village where she lives and works, is her circle. She follows every fold and seam, celebrating, sketching, printing and painting its seasons and subtleties, dressed in its perennial palette of ochre, mist, mushroom and grey blue.
"I like walking because it is slow, and I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works at about three miles an hour."
Rebecca Solnit writes in Wanderlust, 'I like walking because it is slow, and I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works at about three miles an hour. If this is so, then modern life is moving faster than the speed of thought, or thoughtfulness.' Linda moves at an unusually responsive pace - observing, remembering, tasting, listening; an intuitive, honest, feral force. Her work springs from walking, stillness and close attention. She concretizes Solnit's idea that 'walking shares with making and working that crucial element of engagement of the body and the mind with the world, of knowing the world through the body and the body through the world.'