Andy Marshall's Genius Loci Digest: 30 June 2023
I have a friend that tells me that I'm an over-sharer. They're probably right - but I find a touch of healing in telling my story.
This digest revels in the in-between, the transitional, the presence of absence. My camera with its dials and knobs and sharp focus has taken me into the blur of things. It has taught me that because things can't be measured it doesn't mean that it isn't there. The spirit of things, the essence of our places is as real as my shutter button.
I have a friend that tells me that I'm an over-sharer. They're probably right - but I find a touch of healing in telling my story.
It feels like there is a kind of aesthetic gravity at play - that I am being drawn into a celestial whirlpool of beautiful things, flying through the cosmic dust of our historic environment only to be sucked into the divine detritus that adorns our churches.
After difficult times in my thirties, I found salvation in the vernacular.
There's a rap on the door. It's Caroline the architect - I'm still in my orrery. I exit the van via the rear door and hand her a rainbow baton we found earlier in the Orangery - left over from a wedding at the weekend. The tailgate hisses as it rises. I feel like Major Tom exiting an air lock.
I love drilling down from a complex construct of the past (such as a cathedral) to the patina on its walls which holds more complexity than the building itself. A universe in the particular.
J.B Priestley equated the time continuum to an omelette. Add Inglesham to the mix and time is a soufflé. Inglesham is like an odd bend in the road of time.
Here is the full three days of a remarkable journey into the heart of Pembrokeshire.
The stylistic formality of classicism is embossed upon the jaunty angled village vernacular of a planned town of the C12th.
After spending prolonged days wrestling with the light through my viewfinder, I’ve experienced a kind of photo-serotonin effect, as if a transfusion has taken place resulting in an inner glow, unable to stop chattering; a feeling of being baptised with the splendour of it.
✨ Wondering why I ask for support?
An Anxiety of Memberships