unwrapping

Low tide was around breakfast time yesterday so the first thing I did when I got down to the point was to inspect the fabric bundles I'd left a few weeks ago.  I could only find five of the seven I'd noted down, so two have been lost to the sea. There is a certain ceremony to unwrapping something that has been left like this to develop with hope and expectation.  I carefully snip the string and unwind it, then slowly unwrap the fabric itself.

One had to be dug out of a small dune that had formed against the groyne it was attached to.

The ones left further down the beach, which have been submerged with every high tide, twice a day are certainly more worn with deeper, darker marks.  Those nearer the top of the beach are still very white with bright orange rust marks, so these must only have been submerged a handful of times. 

I took them all inside and up to the lamp room where there is a rail I could drape them over in the sunshine to have a good look.  

They looked well in bright sunlight, particularly the silk, whose creases catch the light in much the same way as the ripples on sand and water.  

There are grubby marks, bits of sand and seaweed, holes where they've been pounded by the waves.  Some bits are rather too much like tie-dye but other parts are really unexpected and beautiful.  I spent a good deal of time on this visit forming a clearer vision of the final pieces I'd like to produce.  The ideas are still growing, and they will continue to do so with the making, but I have a good deal of material to work with now.