This is a new body of work beginning to coalesce and fall into harmony within me. It comes from a very ancient part of me, that part that echoes down from a kind of dreaming, a collective ancestral experience of living more completely within the world. The remains of megalithic structures pepper the landscape of the Penwith Peninsula in Cornwall, a land I know well from deep encounters over many years of living there. These enigmatic totems now stand in isolation scattered across moorland, separated from their culture and context of some 6,000 years ago, when humans lived in closer alignment with the rhythms of the land and celestial bodies. In spatial and temporal flux, they have shifted and slipped from their original moorings, but they still resonate with intent, giant thresholds booming out with sonorous solemnity, holding the ground and the space around them. Rilke’s Poeme, 1924, expresses the hope of harmony in the connectedness of humans and the world around us so beautifully: “Space, outside outside ourselves, invades and ravishes things: / If you want to achieve the existence of a tree, / Invest it with inner space, this space / That has its being in you.”