'I LOOKED INSIDE'

This is an excerpt from the book entitled 'Personal Maps'

PERSONAL MAPS - SENSE OF PLACE AND IDENTITY. A COLLECTION OF PRINTS

'I LOOKED INSIDE'

I looked inside

This old heart

And there the river

Still ran

And everything

Was full

Of you.

'I LOOKED INSIDE'

It was a hot day, but luckily there had been cloud cover, and as the day drew to a close, the air began to cool and fragrant as it drifted over the mountain herbs that hug the rugged landscape. I took an unusual turn in the main road and I found myself parked next to an old agricultural commission sign. On a weathered map, I could just about make out some local species of birds and a path leading to the river.

I decided to take the little dirt track, and within a few minutes, I was amongst old olive trees and allotments that must have been thriving some thirty years ago. Their borders lay clearly delineated in big riverbed stones.  I realised that place was, in fact, the deep ravine that I saw each day on my drive along the mountain road. I had been told stories by the locals of thriving water-driven flour mills down there and had fleetingly glimpsed parts of stone walls on the brink of collapse.

Suddenly, there it was. A huge, powerful river that had coaxed and rolled and dragged millions of huge, rounded stones down its course. The locals had referred to the river as flowing so strongly, "it would take your head off" if you were not looking.  The surprisingly big river bed was dry. It lay there silent and obsolete, straddled by an ancient Roman bridge.  The loss of the river suddenly hit me hard. Up above a few kilometres away from all natural water sources had been redirected to an immense reservoir designed to supply the local towns. The village nearby was now as dry as a bone. Its name, meaning 'Riverside' redundant.

 The dry, deserted landscape, filled me with a desire to hold on to what was left. Despite being a recent arrival to the area, not a local, I become angry, sad and emotional.  It seemed as if the very life of this land had been wrenched from it, yet people carried on and continued to hope and to toil in these harsh conditions. I sat beneath the gnarled olive trees and allowed these negative emotions to run their course. Momentarily I sensed my heart swell with a feeling which was hard to place or measure.  It was love for all that is fleeting, human and vulnerable in this world. When back at the house, I drew this little heart shaped image. My love for this land, the people and my family had found a sort of expression. I created this drawing, which I dedicated to them.

If you look closely, you can see the submerged village of Sfondili, another casualty of the dam.  In my mind, this work flies against life's disappointment and catastrophes; the image is about love and hope and, more love. Faced with the inevitability of loss made me feel that the ones we love are truly precious.